A/N: I forgot to put this in the first chapter, but here is my disclaimer for the whole story: I do not own any of these people (well, they're real people. So no one really owns them . . .) songs or anything else of this story. Just the story itself and the characters within the story. Okay, bye!

December 22, 2010

Selena's Apartment

New York City, New York

Selena woke up, sunlight blinding her for a moment or two. She groaned and looked over at the clock at her bedside.

8:45.

"CRAP!" Selena was a blur of motion as she hurried to get ready within fifteen minutes; even though a small voice inside her was saying she'd never make it in time.

As she was rushing to her closet, she unplugged her phone from its charger and speed-dialed Nick.

"Hello?"

Ignoring the slight heart attack at his voice, she rushed to tell him, "Nick, hi. I'm going to be a little late. My . . . uh, taxi is in awful traffic, worse than normal."

"No problem. I'll get the coffee."

Selena sighed in relief, "Alright. Just tell the barista that you're getting Selena's order. She knows me."

"Sounds good. See you in a bit," Nick hung up and Selena continued to hurriedly get ready for the day.

Selena made it to work twenty-five minutes later. When she got to her desk, her coffee was already there, her computer turned on, and a Post-It note attached to the screen. She pulled it off and read it:

When you get here, come straight to my office. I want you to hear something.

She smiled; this was the best part of her job. When Nick would finish a song, she was always the first one to hear it. Sometimes they would have a long discussion afterward, about the song and what or who it was about. It was during these talks where Selena had learned that Nick had Type 1 Diabetes, and he had learned that she and her mother were sixteen years apart. Selena was touched when just a few days after that talk she was back in his office, listening to "Rose Garden." He swore it wasn't about her, but they both knew he was lying. But they had both decided to not release those two songs, "too personal."

Selena went to Nick's door and waved the note in the air, "You wanted to see me?"

Nick looked up from the sheet music on his desk and smiled, "Yes ma'am."

They did their usual seat exchange: She sat in his big spinny chair and he sat on his desk with his guitar. With no introduction or speech, Nick started to sing the song that he had been listening to the day before:

"I want someone to love me,
for Who I Am.
I want someone to need me,
is that so bad?
I wanna break all the madness,
but it's all I have.
I want someone to love me,
for Who I Am.

Nothing makes sense, nothing makes sense anymore.
Nothing is right, nothing is right when you're gone.
I'm losing my breath, I'm losing my right to be wrong
I'm frightened to death, I'm frightened that I won't be strong

I want someone to love me,
for Who I Am
I want someone to need me,
is that so bad?
I wanna break all the madness,
but it's all I have.
I want someone to love me,
for Who I Am.

I'm shaking it off; I'm shaking off all of the pain.
Breaking my heart, breaking my heart once again

I want someone to love me,
for Who I Am
I want someone to need me,
is that so bad?
I wanna break all the madness,
but it's all I have.
I want someone to love me,
for Who I Am."

When Nick finished, he placed his guitar aside and looked at Selena.

She shook her head, "You better not publish that."

His face fell a bit, "It was that bad?"

Selena smiled, "No! It was that good!" Nick gave her a quizzical look. She sighed, "Nick, you can't publish that to someone else. You need to start recording your own music for yourself, not for other people. Have you ever thought of that?"

He shrugged, "I mean I have. But I just don't think it'd be the same."

"What wouldn't be the same?"

"Maybe people wouldn't like my music when I sing it as much as when other people sing it."

Selena blinked, "You have self esteem issues, my friend."

"Maybe I should go to counseling or something," Nick laughed and looked down at the sheet music, "You really think it could work?"

She smiled, "All I'm saying is if your music is as successful right now, then it can be life changing if it had your voice."

Nick looked up and smirked, "What are you saying about my voice?"

Selena shrugged and started walking out of Nick's office, "It just has a certain appeal to females." Then without thinking, Selena winked quickly and hurried back to her desk, appalled at herself.

Selena pulled out her phone and texted Demi: I did it again.

Less than thirty seconds later, she got a reply: Did what?

Selena: Acted on a whim, without thinking of the consequences.

Demi: Dear God. The last time that happened was two years ago when you yelled at some Tiki bartender about selling "Sex on the Beach."

Selena: IT SOUNDED GROSS AND ILLEGAL, OKAY?

Demi: It was a drink, Selena! And because of that, our pictures are in every single restaurant/bar in Myrtle Beach. So . . . what'd you do?

Selena retold her cousin how she had ever-so-lovely exited out of Nick's office.

Demi: SELENA MARIE RUSSO WINKED AT NICK JONES? WHEN DOES THIS HAPPEN?

Selena: Exactly! I have no idea!

Demi: Well, how did he react?

Selena: I have no idea. I left right after that.

Demi: Well he's probably thinking of ways to as you out now.

Selena: Yeah, about that . . .

Demi: He asked you out and you didn't tell me?

Selena: It's just to the company party tonight! Nothing special.

Demi: Nothing special, right. I can't believe you didn't tell me.

Selena: I was going to, I swear. But I woke up late this morning and had to rush. I really am sorry. :/

Demi: I know you are. Well I'm not gonna let you waste anymore time with your boyfriend. You go back to work now.

Selena: HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND.

Demi: Back to work, Selena. (:

Selena rolled her eyes, put her phone away, and continued to work.

At about three o'clock, Nick poked his head out the door and looked at Selena's back, "Hey, Lena? I wanted to ask you something about the party tonight."

Selena turned around, slowly. Was Nick backing out on them going together? "Yeah?"

"Well, I know you want to have enough time to get ready—being a girl and all—so if you need to take off soon, it's okay."

Selena nodded, "Sounds like a plan. I'll be just a little longer, and then I'll go."

Nick did one nod, "See you at six-thirty."

"Six-thirty," Selena confirmed and turned back to her computer for the next hour. After convincing herself that she had nothing else to do, she grabbed her things and gave Nick a quick wave (getting a simple "See ya" in response) and walked the few blocks back to her apartment.

At six-fifteen, Nick did one last tie-straightening check in his hallway mirror. He had gotten back to his apartment forty-five minutes before, and to be honest, he was surprised at how well he pulled himself out of work mode into party mode in such short time. Sure, he didn't need a lot of time, but he still liked to be on some sort of pace rather than trying to get everything done within a matter of seconds.

Nick locked his door and headed out to the street below. After maneuvering his way through the usual throng of people, he reached the curb and hailed a cab. Nick gave the driver Selena's address, and when they arrived outside her place, he paid the driver an extra ten to wait outside while Nick got Selena.

Nick stepped out of the cab and walked the few stairs up to her door. He rang the doorbell, and a few seconds later, Selena's voice came out through the intercom, scratchy and sharp, "Just a sec!"

Nick thought he heard some sort of music turn off inside the apartment, then the click of heels across hardwood floors. The door unlocked and Selena opened it, smiling hugely.

He blinked; Selena looked amazing. Nick had been used to seeing her in worn-in jean and Converse, and now she was wearing a strapless red dress that ended before her knee and killer black heels that easily knocked off the five inches that stopped her from being his height.

"Hey," she said.

Nick cleared his throat, "Hi. You ready?"

Selena nodded and locked her door, dropping the key into the silver clutch she was holding. She noticed the cab at the curb and the beefy driver inside, staring at them. She pointed, "Ours?"

"Yup," he opened the car door for her and she slid in, "I decided it would be more efficient for you to not walk fifteen blocks in heels."

"Smart move," she smiled.

Nick gave the driver the party's address. The driver quickly made it to the venue, stealing glances at Selena the whole drive. For some reason he didn't understand, this gave Nick a jealous urge to put his arm around her, which he did. He assured himself that it wasn't jealousy; he was just simply protecting his friend from a stinky, burly weirdo.

Selena's face grew warm when Nick put his arm around her. She didn't know what to think of it, but she wasn't going to ask him about it. When the taxi pulled up outside the party, Nick paid and they got out.

Already they could hear the music from inside. There were a few news reporters and photographers there. Selena looked down at her feet, self-conscious; she was never going to get used to the media, no matter how long she worked for the world's most successful musician.

Inside, the dance floor was pulsing to the beat of the music—all songs that Nick had written, of course. Waiters and waitresses walked around, holding trays of various snacks. Nick and Selena had been greeted by many co-workers coming in. They received plenty smiles and eyebrow-raises at the thought of the two as "dates."

The DJ, up on the stage, changed the song to Katy Perry's "California Gurls."* Nick turned to Selena, mouthing Snoop Dogg's "Greetings, loved ones. Let's take a journey." Selena laughed and grabbed his hand, leading them to the dance floor. They found their way into the middle of the crowd and danced crazily. They sung along, Selena doing Katy's parts, Nick doing Snoop's. When the song ended, everyone cheered and applauded like they did at the end of every song.

Instead of starting a new song, the DJ spoke into a microphone, "Yo, listen up. I have an announcement to make." He held up an index card to show everyone and then held it in front of his face to read it, "'Nick Jones, the CEO of Jones Music Incorporation, has just sold his millionth copy of an original song, You And Me, sung by Lifehouse,* as well as being a nominee for Producer of the Year, Non-Classical, for the fifty-third Grammy Awards.'* Congratulations Nick!"

Everyone erupted into cheering. People were giving congrats and slapping Nick on the back, who was beaming. In fact, he did a little fist pumping dance. He turned to Selena, "We did it!"

"You did it!" Selena hugged him.

When she pulled away, Nick held onto her arms. He smiled, "I couldn't have done it without you." And to both his and her surprise, he kissed her.

A/N: . . . and now the drama shall start. *gasp* Oh no!

* Alright, so I know that Nick didn't really write those songs, and he wasn't actually nominated for a Grammy award. Just calm down. It's called fanfiction for a reason. Capiche? Good.