Chapter 4

"So you're the seraphical Tris Prior."

The flight across the pond was smooth. Tris and Tobias talked business most of the time, but there was some flirting that neither of them actually meant to sneak in. Tobias didn't mind though. He dropped off Tris at her new apartment, showed her around, left her on her own.

"Yes, Mr. Sweets, that's me. It's nice to meet you too."

"I'm very excited to have you in my studio, Ms. Prior. Let's get you in there. All you've got to do is put on those headphones, and when Eaton gives you the thumbs up, you can start singing… Hm. You know Shawn Mendes? Stitches?"

Tris laughs. "Of course. A fantastic song."

A new voice comes arises inside the room.

"Glad you think so."

Tris's eyes widened. "Is that…?"

"I'm Shawn. It's lovely to meet you. I watched a lot of your videos ever since Mr. Sweets told me you'd be demo-ing here. In case you haven't figured it out yet, Mr. Sweets does my producing."

Tris nodded with wide eyes. "That's… fun."

He laughed. "You'll learn to act natural eventually, Tris."

She nodded. "Sorry. I'm just… I'm not used to the environment."

"You'll be fine. Now get in that studio and do my song some justice."

Tris laughed. "Thanks, Shawn." She nervously entered the sound booth and put on the headphones. The background music began to play, so she took a deep breath, and then she did her thing.

Tobias was astonished. Sure, he'd heard her sing before, but in a sound booth and that particular song, she sounded… angelic. He could not think of any particular word to describe her voice. Hell, even herself.

Shawn sat next to Tobias, and Tobias smiled at him.

"She's fantastic," Shawn says. "Too bad there's no in-office dating, right?"

Tobias chuckled with a hint of jealousy. "Too bad."

He knew Tris would pick a guy like Shawn any day over a simple music producer's assistant, even if they were permitted to date.

Which they weren't.

When Tris finished it, the boys in the studio were astounded. Sweets, Tobias, Shawn, and the tech guy.

"Holy shit," Sweets said.

Then, in a whisper, Tobias said, "She's better than Selena fucking Gomez."

"Don't tell Selena I said this, but, yeah, she is," Shawn said. "She's incredible. She sang that better than me. And I wrote it, Eaton."

"Yeah. She's insanely good."

"You're a lucky man," Shawn says with a shake of the head.

He laughed. "What do you mean?"

"Have you seen the way she looks at you, man?" he said with a laugh.

"No. Don't think so," chuckled Tobias.

Shawn shook his head. "You'll figure it out soon enough."

"You continue to perplex me, Shawn Mendes."

He laughs. "So dramatic, Tobias. You'll learn how to love eventually."

"Quote from a new song?" Tobias asks.

"You know it. I better get going. And, uh, if things with you and Tris don't work out… Let me know."

He laughed. "Will do."

For the rest of the time, Tobias overheard Tris and Sweets's long conversation. He sat there in boredom as Sweets gave the long lecture he gave to every new rising star.

Toward the end, he mentioned that he'd like to hear Tris's original stuff the next day in the studio.

"Tobias, since you two live in the same apartment building, would you mind showing Tris the way? Can't have our next star getting lost, now can we?" Sweets laughed.

Tris chuckled. "Thank you again for this opportunity, Mr. Sweets," she said as she shook his hand.

"My pleasure. Now go rest those vocal chords. We've got a lot of work to do tomorrow."

"Great," Tris said with an excited smile. "I'm looking forward to it."

"As am I."

Tris couldn't stop smiling as she walked out of the studio. It was silent when they entered the elevator—not even the elevator music was helping with the uncomfortable silence.

"You think I'm better than Selena Gomez?" she asked with an egotistical smile. "Did you mean that?"

He continued to stare straight. "I don't say things I don't mean, Tris. and besides, why does it matter what I think? Shawn Mendes was sitting right next to me. Don't you care what he thinks more?"

She shrugs. "Not really. I mean sure, I admire his music, and, sure, he seems like a nice guy, but he's not someone who's opinion matters to me. I care about your opinion."

"Why?" Tobias asked. He'd known this girl for a solid three days, and it perplexed him as to why his opinion would've mattered to her.

"I don't know. I guess I considered us friends."

He smirked. "That's fantastic, because I too consider us friends. And friends do fun stuff together. And fun stuff includes showing each other around the city. Would you like to do so?"

She laughed. "If that's what friends do."

"Alright. Show me the ropes, Tobias."

"Could I trouble you for a decimal coin?" Tris said with the ever-so-darling accent of hers. "No, a—a penny, is it?"

Tobias asked, "A penny?"

"Yes."

"To drop it off the building of course," she said like it was something common people did.

"Tris," Tobias said. "That's illegal."

"Illegal? As in against the law?" she asked, perplexed. "Doesn't everybody do it? You know. For luck."

"No, Tris. It could kill someone. Where did you learn that?"

"One of the kind, attractive boys I met on my way to the lavatory. They said that everyone does it."

He laughed. "Love. No, love. Nobody does that."

"I'm sorry. I'm so gullible."

He smiled. "It's okay, Tris. It's hard adjusting to American life. We're a bunch of weirdos."

Tris simply laughed, and then got closer to the edge of the Empire State Building.

"Don't you think it's just bloody lovely up here?" Tobias said.

Tris smirked. "Did you just say bloody?"

"Indeed. I'm trying to be funny due to the fact that I'm absolutely terrified right now."

"Oh, you're like Ross Geller from Friends. He once spoke in a British accent—a horrible one, might I add—and it was when he was nervous. It just, like, came out. Anyhow, I rant. I can't believe you just said bloody," she laughed.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I hide my fear by telling jokes. It's just how I function."

She smiled. "It's cute."

Tobias looked over the edge. "You know, Shawn was kinda into you."

She laughed. "Ah. I see. Another joke."

"Not a joke."

"Shawn Mendes. Into me?"

"Indeed."

"Bloody fucking hell, if I can get him to like me then the whole nation's going to go mad!" Tris exclaimed. "No dating policy though, right?"

"Right."

"A shame. A shame, it is." Tris winked.

He laughed. "So why haven't I heard one of your original songs yet?"

She shrugged. "Good question."

"Sing."

"Right here?" she asked incredulously.

"Right now," he answered.

"Oh. Um, okay."

"I hate that you don't care. You told me I was rare. You treated me like princess. Always gave me your caress. But now I know that you could care less, and that you only loved me when I undressed. Our love was a perfect storm, constantly keeping me warm. You told me that you loved me, then figured out I wasn't your cup of tea, so now you drink vodka. I hate myself for still waiting for you, when you're out there, craving somebody new."

Tobias was silent. Then, "Holy fucking hell."

"Good 'holy fucking hell' or bad 'holy fucking hell'?"

He laughed. "Good. Very good."

"I can't believe you made me sing a song on top of the Empire State Building."

"Everybody does it, Tris," he said with a wink.

"Oh, hardy har. I see what you did there. Anyway, let's go to one of those American coffee shops you all go to."

"Tris, you worked at a coffee shop in London. They're no different."

"Well, over here you Americans are all about technology. I mean, sure, so are we, but coffee shops are supposed to be for meeting with friends and loved ones. Not to write blogs or— or books. Just to sit down and enjoy company and coffee. Without technology."

Tobias nodded. "Let's go do that. Then we'll go to an orchestral concert in Central park."

"Brilliant. Let's go."

Tobias couldn't stop laughing at Tris's actions as they walked down the sidewalk. She was annoyed, but Tobias could tell it was jokingly. He let Tris rant at her own free will without any interruption from him. He was utterly amused by this woman.

"I mean, what is it with you and your culture? If I order a white coffee then I expect not to be questioned about what it is! They ought to know what a bloody white coffee is! And when I say I want double cream, they ought to know that I mean hefty or heavy cream or whatever the bloody hell you Americans call it! And—"

"Tris, stay on the sidewalk. You can't just cross wherever you'd like. You have to wait for a crosswalk."

"First off, mister, it's called a footway. Not a sidewalk. Second, sure I can cross wherever I'd like. Cops catch me? I'll just say I'm some confused tourist and then get away with it. Third, it's called a pedestrian crossing. Or a zebra crossing. Whatever. But not a crosswalk."

He laughed again. "Okay, Tris. Just remember that you are in America now. This is my land."

She groaned. "Knobhead."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I called you a knobhead!" Tris said, sticking her tongue out like a five-year-old child who just said a curse word.

"I'm not so sure that's an insult, love."

She crossed her arms as they stopped at the crosswalk. "It means, in Americans terms, dickhead. Except with the word knob."

"Oh, that's just brilliant, Tris."

She scoffed. Then she incredulously asked, "Are you making fun of my culture now?"

"Bloody hell, of course not," he said in a Brit's accent. "I'm just a jolly old little wanker who loves bellends! Would you like to snog or shag later, love? Oh, and then maybe we could get some crumpets and tea! But first we must finish our white coffee and cross the pedestrian and zebra crossing!"

Tris showed contempt at his little mockery. Two could play it that game. She stopped in her tracks in the middle of the path at Central Park. "Oh, Tobias, get me, like, a cheeseburger, shnookums. I just love eating those, like, greasy diabetes. Before you go make sure you take your laptop for the coffee shop later! Oh, and, like, you and I should totally go for a walk on the sidewalk tomorrow! Oh my, like, god. You and I would be, like, relationship goals."

He smirked, and then neared his face closer to hers, tipping her chin up with his finger. "You're kinda hot when you're mad."

Tris scoffed yet again, and then she kept walking without looking back.

Then he heard her yell, "Are you coming, knobhead?"