It was the ungodly (or so it would have seemed a mere few years ago) hour of 8 o'clock when I began my morning routine. First, it was the clichéd jog along the beach. Then, a shower, a bowl of Kashi cereal, and a freshly-brewed pot of Starbucks brand coffee. I was out the door by 9 at the latest and these days, I was rarely late. The drive to the office was ten minutes, fifteen with traffic which there always was, and a short elevator ride to the tenth floor.

"Morning Mark," I greeted the man behind the front desk.

"Good morning, Ash. Is that a new top?"

"Yup, you like?" I smirked, twirling around in jest.

"Looks hot!"

"You're not looking so bad yourself this morning, Marky." Mark swatted my hand away as I attempted to muss his hair.

"Easy, easy, a 'do like this does not just appear on my beautiful head every day." This earned him a laugh. "Oh yeah, you got another package!"

"From where?" I asked, although I probably could have guessed. No, scratch that, definitely could have guessed.

"Namibia, duh." Grinning to myself, I turned towards my office.

"I'll see ya later, Mark."

"Give Spencer my regards."

"Shut up!" I teased back. Upon entering my office, I spotted the small parcel Mark was talking about and immediately tore it open. A small, intricately designed replica of a zebra fell into my hand, along with a note.

'Never be afraid to change your stripes.

Love,

Spencer'

I grinned again, musing about how typical-Spencer that was, and placed the zebra on my desk next to the small, framed picture I kept of the blonde.

Today was the day I'd been thinking about for the past two years. Spencer's flight was scheduled to have landed at around 7 this morning, but flights, especially from African countries, were rarely on time. Still, the thought that Spencer could potentially be in the same city as I was at the moment had been giving me butterflies since I'd woken up.

I did not want to call Spencer. Well, I did, but I wouldn't. I wanted Spencer to see how much I'd changed for the better over the past couple years. The old Ashley would have called Paula and Arthur, driven over the night before, and camped out in Spencer's bedroom until she returned. Okay, perhaps I wouldn't have been quite so desperate, but I certainly would have been calling the Carlin residence every 10 minutes from 7am on. The new Ashley knew better though. I didn't want to push her; I didn't want Spencer to think I'd been waiting around for her; and I definitely didn't want to bother her. Above all, though, I wanted Spencer to see that I had become exactly the person she'd described to me that morning so long ago- someone happy and independent, with my own friends, my own job, and my own life. Of course, the fact that I hadn't remotely gotten over her- hadn't even tried to do so- might complicate my ability to reflect this new, 'independent' persona. Just a little bit.

Suddenly, my office phone rang. The thought that it could be Spencer almost gave me a heart attack and I took a moment to brace myself before picking it up. Why she would be calling me on my office phone, I didn't take the time to consider.

"Hello?"

"Ash, it's Ethan." Fuck my life.

"Oh. What's up?"

"Well, I've got some interesting news for you. You know the demo you sent over? The 'Looks Like Rain' tape?" he asked.

"Yeah…"

"It's amazing. I love it, the sound guys love it, the execs love it… everyone who's heard it loves it. It's gonna be pure gold when it hits the radio."

"Um, thanks, but what's the problem?"

"That's the thing. Usually when writers send us tracks, they're really rough, occasionally pitchy and off-key, just blueprint-type things. What you sent us… and what you normally do send us… I mean, we could put that on the radio as is without a problem."

"Uh… so what you're saying is you want me to sing and play badly?" I questioned.

"No, Ash, you're not getting it. The label wants to release the demo you sent us, as a single, sung by you. Followed up by a c.d. of your originals, also sung by you. Are you interested?" I was stunned into silence. Since the disaster that was the "performance" with Kyla all those years ago, I'd played a handful of small clubs, but had all but given up on my own career as a performer. Sure, I enjoyed the whole songwriting gig, but even I couldn't deny that there was something special about singing my own songs in front of people other than Ethan, some friends, and the artists I was writing for. "Ash, you with me?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just… I don't know. I've never really thought this would happen," I admitted.

"Come on, Ash. If things had been different with the whole Kyla lipsynching fiasco, you would be one of the most famous people in the country right now."

"Ethan…"

"I'm serious. If you want to do this, it's not too late to try."

"I'm 27 years old. That's, like, 60 in Hollywood."

"Come on, Ash, you know that's not true. Madonna's over 50 and she's still prancing around on stage in her underwear. You're golden. Besides, you have a great story to market… rock star's daughter rises to the top, against all odds, blah blah blah. And you're not too rough to look at, either."

"I… I need to think about it."

"Understandable. Can you get back to me tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" I replied in disbelief.

"How about next week?"

"Ugh, alright. I'll call you then."

"Great, talk to you later."

I wasn't stupid. It wouldn't be all roses and sunshine if I decided to do this. It'd be months of press, promotion, at least a small tour eventually… all the things I didn't have to worry about as a songwriter. But it definitely had its fair share of positives. I resolved to call Lindsey later and talk it over with her.

The beeping of my cell phone interrupted my train of thought. I had a text message, and something told me this was precisely what I had been waiting for. It was Spencer.

'Guess who's home?'

I smiled widely, suspicions confirmed, before replying. 'Welcome back! How was the flight?'

A few moments passed until I received a response. 'Long and boring. Jetlag sucks. But I wanna see you before I take a really long nap. Any chance you can stop by soon?'

YES YES YES, I wanted to respond. But I played it cool. 'Sure. Try to hold off on hibernating at least until I get to say hi.'

'Oh don't worry, I'm too excited to see you to be able to fall asleep just yet. Can't wait!'

The sound that I let out upon reading that could only be described as a squeal. Grabbing my bag and phone, I rushed out of the office and down to my car.