A/N: Here it is! Chapter 2! Unfortunately, no jommy as of yet. But next chapter I promise! A huge huge thank you to my beta Larissa (JudendTommy) for sorting out the little grammar mistakes/me missing out words as I was typing too fast!

I awoke to the sun shining through my window, the morning making itself known to my tired eyes. My body still ached, although luckily it was less than yesterday, and I pulled the covers up over my head, desperately wanting to fall back into the welcoming depths of sleep. Oh but fate was cruel and wouldn't allow it, the sun, more than anything, stopping me from achieving my goal. Dragging myself out of the warm comforts of my bed, I stopped to peer at my reflection in the mirror. Strands of brown, black, blonde and green hair stuck up everywhere and my eyeliner and black eye shadow had smudged, giving me the resemblance of a raccoon. Great. Sticking my tongue out at my reflection, I padded through to the bathroom to get myself cleaned up and ready for whatever was going to happen today.

Twenty minutes later and I stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my body, my hair hanging around my face in wet strands. I have to admit that I was disgusted with my appearance. Maybe I had a case of wanting to change purely because of the break-up, but whatever it was, the problem was my hair. Cutting it was a huge no. I had spent years growing it to the length that it currently was – just below my shoulders – and I was happy with that… it was the colour. I hated it. Pure hate. Well, whoever invented the hair dye should be knighted or be made a saint or something. Quickly throwing on a pair of scruffy jeans, a black band shirt and a pair of sneakers, I grabbed my skateboard and my purse, and headed to the drugstore.

Okay, so to say that I hadn't thought about what colour I wanted was true, and I have to admit that I thought it would be easy to pick out a colour once I got to the store. Oh how I was wrong. How the fuck can I chose from hundreds of colours that are all similar, some shades making it hard to tell that they were different from the box beside them. There was one box that did catch my eye though. It was a beautiful natural blonde. Now, I've never even thought about going blonde, a few years ago and I would have died if I even thought about it. But now…? The chance was there, and I was curious to see what I would look like as a blonde. Picking up the box, I studied it in my hands. Yeah…yeah, this was the colour. It just seemed rather... I don't know. Boring? All one colour. Looking at the highlight kits, I wanted something unusual, something like the green that was currently highlighting my hair. The second box to catch my eye was that of a hot pink. Putting the hot pink colour beside the blonde that I held in my hands, I was convinced. This was it. Paying the five bucks for them, I skated home, glad that my mother was working and my brother was out. Locking myself in my bathroom, I spent over an hour working on my hair. I was completely happy with the results. My hair was now a natural looking blonde and I had parted it in a side fringe, giving it a bit (but not much) of a trim, colouring the right side with one single hot pink highlight.

The rest of the morning went pretty smoothly. I wrote a new song, went down to Starbucks for some coffee, and then sat in the park with my guitar. I've had a licence to busk for a while now, and used it to get myself extra money when it was needed. Sitting on the grass, softly strumming, I sang my newest songs. I had been singing since I could remember and taught myself to play the guitar, piano and drums. My first song was written at ten years old. I vividly remember being so proud of it… even if it was about a goldfish. Okay, so maybe it wasn't something I should have been proud of, but I was ten! Goldfish were all the rage!

People passed by, occasionally dropping in coins, some even stopping to just listen. Now, most of them didn't stay for longer then five or so seconds, but one person just stood until I had finished the song. Looking up, I squinted against the sun and found myself meeting eyes with an incredibly gorgeous guy. His hair was brown and slightly shaggy, his eyes were blue and his smile was oh my God worthy. He motioned to the floor and I nodded. Yeah, of course he could sit. Especially when he looked like that. He sat beside me and looked over my shoulder at the chords I had scribbled down.

"Play that for me?"

His voice was soft and he sounded interested, so I glanced at the chords before I played them for him, watching his facial expressions as I did.

"Your progression isn't landing right. May I?"

He motioned for my guitar this time and I handed it to him silently. He seemed to know what he was doing and he took the instrument expertly in his hands, looking once again at the chords before changing them slightly. My song sounded so much better and I noticed that he continued to play the notes I had written down, so I sang along. When we finished, we just stared at each other, small smiles on our faces. Something magical had just happened and I passed him my pencil to write down the changes.

His voice caught me off guard as I found myself staring again.

"I'm Spiederman. Well, actually it's Vincent, but no one calls me that, so it's just Spiederman… or Spied."

A smile crept up onto my lips and I found myself smirking at how he was rambling. It was cute. Somewhere I had heard that if a guy rambles while talking to you, it means he likes you. I don't know how true that is, but I hope it's true.

"I'm Rosalina."

My name was simple and I laughed quietly, looking down and then back up. I found myself blushing and tucked some of my hair behind my ear. Okay, so maybe it was obvious that I liked him. Even though I had only met him what must be five minutes or so ago, I had this feeling in my stomach, like butterflies, that I had never gotten with any other guy that I had told myself I liked. Spied's voice brought me out of my thoughts and my head whipped up.

"You know, you're really good. Come with me."

I raised an eyebrow and hurriedly stood, taking the hand that he offered to help me up. Packing my acoustic in its case, we started walking out of the park and further into town. Where the hell we were going, I had no idea as I hardly ever came to this part of the city. His hand was still holding onto mine and we talked about different things. Our topic of conversation ranged from music, to school, to everything else under the sun. I was currently trying to convince him that the Beatles were greater than Pink Floyd, when we stopped outside of a building.

G Major Records? He had to be kidding me right? He had said I was good, but there was no way in hell I'd be good enough to record anything. My feet wouldn't move and Spied seemed to notice my anxiety, as he gently tugged on my hand and pulled me through the doors.

"Come on Rosie… follow me."

Rosie. It sounded nice. I'd never been called that before, but if it came from his mouth like that, I'd love to hear it more often. I took in the atmosphere of the busy record label. People were bustling everywhere, doing their jobs. I could see people recording in the studio, people sitting behind desks answering phones and even someone making a sandwich. This was the type of place I had always dreamed of working, dreamed of making my own albums, of getting my music out there. I moved on autopilot, finding myself being taken through a set of huge double doors, into a blue tinted gold room, that seemed to reek of power. A man was sat behind the desk and I recognized him instantly. It was Darius Mills, the all-powerful hip-hop mogul. Everyone knew that he was it in the music business. If you worked with him, you had made it.

"D, I have G Major's next big thing with me."

Spied's voice shocked me out of my thoughts once again, and I blushed. Seriously? Is that what he seriously thought after hearing only one of my songs? Darius nodded but stayed silent, moving around the front of the desk to sit on it. Spiederman pulled my guitar from my case and handed it to me, encouraging me to start playing. So I did. I ran through one of my songs, making sure I sang every note right, that I played every chord correctly. Silence was what greeted me when I had finished, and Darius was smiling. Was that good? Turning to look at Spied, I saw he was smiling too. All of a sudden, Darius began applauding, which made me jump and got a chuckle from the beaming hip-hop mogul that stood in front of me.

"What's your name?"

What? Oh, um… my name? Okay, so I wasn't that nervous, but it was still a big deal. When I spoke, my voice sounded confident, but on the inside I was shaking.

"Rosalina Manson."

Darius stepped over to a filing cabinet that stood in the corner of the room behind his desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a piece of paper. He passed it to me and I was completely shocked.

"Welcome to G Major Records."