Nick's POV
"I really don't think you need any more sugar," I say, resting a hand on Miley's skinny jean covered leg to stop it from bouncing up and down. We're sitting at a table of a famous cake place in downtown LA. We're going to be sampling different flavors of cake and filling and then we're going to design our wedding cake.
Honestly, it seems a little crazy to me that we have to choose now, but whatever. I'm just a guy, what do I know about planning wedding receptions? Apparently things need to be done months in advance. Miley and I have decided that the wedding colors should be navy blue and black along with the traditional white. That might sound strange to some people, usually those colors don't go well together, but they're traditional and crisp and timeless.
"I'm just excited!" she says, repeating the same mantra that she says every time we talk about wedding stuff. I don't actually mind, actually it's kind of funny how she has to physically show her excitement. And obviously the fact that she's so excited to marry me is awesome.
"But you always get all bouncy when you're excited..."
Her lips curl up into a smirk and she has that glint in her eye. You know which one I mean. And she always tells me that my mind is in the gutter.
"Don't even go there," I say before she can make a dirty joke. She laughs out loud.
"You just make it so easy," she explains and then picks up the scrapbook in front of her and flips through all the pictures of past cakes that the place has done.
"What kind of cake do you want?" I ask looking over her shoulder at the pictures of cakes. They range from traditional tiered cakes to really crazy ones that are shaped like suitcases and other strange objects.
"One that tastes good," she says quickly and I laugh, "What? It doesn't matter if it looks good if it's going to taste like crap when you smash it in my face."
"I'm not going to smash in it your face," I roll my eyes at her.
"You're going to be singing a different tune when I smash it into yours first."
I'm about to give back and equally witty reply when the man who runs the bakery comes out with a tray full of samples. There are about five different cakes with even more fillings. The tray also has two silver forks on it. Each of the cakes and fillings are carefully labeled.
"Okay, I'm going to let you both try them in peace," the owner says as another girl places two glasses of water in front of us, "I'll come back in a little bit to see what you guys think."
"Sounds perfect," I say with a smile as the owner excuses himself again.
I pick up a fork and then hand it to Miley before picking up my own.
"Which one do you want to try first?" I ask eying all the different cakes; lemon cake, devil's food cake, white cake, yellow cake, and banana cake. One of Miley's cousins is highly allergic to nuts so we decided to not have any nuts in the cake just so we don't have to worry about it being a problem. I don't really like nuts anyway so it works for me.
"The lemon cake," Miley says, taking a tiny bit of it and chewing it over thoughtfully, "No."
I take my own bite of it and shake my head in agreement, "Way too tart. I can't imagine eating a whole piece of cake that tastes like this."
We both wash the flavor out of our mouths and then try the Devil's food cake. It's really good, but a little plain. But with all the fillings that are available there is probably one that will compliment it nicely. Miley agrees and we try the next one. The white cake is boring, the yellow cake is suburb and the banana is delicious, but a little too rich.
After trying all the fillings Miley likes the Devil's food cake with raspberry filling whereas I like the traditional yellow cake and vanilla butter cream. Since we're having a tiered cake, we decided to have each tier alternate between the two that we like… look at us, already compromising with each other.
"Okay," the cake decorator says making a note of our flavors on the form in front of him, "So do you want a square or round cake?"
Miley and I exchange a look and she says, "Square" at the same time I say, "Round."
We both laugh at the fact that we picked two different things. Could we be anymore different?
"Well, you know we could do both," the cake decorator says flipping through the book of previously made cakes, "Like alternate between square and round."
He points to a page where there's an example of such a cake. It's pretty cool. It's unique, but still looks like wedding cake so it's not too out there.
"I like it," I say and Miley nods too and continues to flip through the book.
"I like this," she says, pointing to an up-close picture of a cake. The fondant is quilted with some little pearl accents and little flowers. I agree. It's a nice detail.
"We can definitely do that," he writes down that too, "We can even make the flowers more of a navy blue color to match the wedding."
"That's perfect," Miley says beaming. I don't know what it is about women and wedding planning, but so far it is definitely bringing out the best in Miley. Whether it's looking at venues or brides maid dresses or plates or menus or cakes, she's always smiling, always laughing always finding exactly what she wants. I mean, yeah of course I want the wedding to be perfect too, but I think that my definition of perfect is slightly based off hers. I already know it's going to be the best day of my life anyway; I just need it to be special for her.
"What if we did something like this, Nick?" she asks pointing to a picture where a stripe of black layers the bottom of each tier on the cake.
"That's really cool," I agree and the cake decorator writes that down too. Okay, it's time to stop. I mean I know it's his job to please us, but I don't want to overwhelm the guy. It already has to be a huge cake for that many people and putting too much detail would just be annoying.
We finished up the details and the guy says he'll give us a call to confirm when they start actually making the cake before our wedding. Once we're out of the cake place, it's already getting dark seeing as we went when I was done work.
"I don't want to wait," Miley says suddenly on the way home in the car.
"What?"
"To get married," she says with a laugh, "And don't worry, I'm only kidding, well, mostly."
"I know what you mean," I say with a grin, "I wish we could just do it tomorrow. I'm more than ready."
"Exactly. I like doing this though… planning everything out, I mean. Especially because we get to do it together."
"Me too," I agree, "It's kind of girly and don't tell Joe I said this, but planning it all is actually kind of fun."
She laughs, "I can't wait to pick out my dress."
"But I won't get to be there for that part."
"But your mom will," Miley says with a big grin on her face. I know it's hard for her to do this without her own mom and I couldn't be happier that she feels comfortable and even happy with my mom filling in.
"She's dead excited, you know," I tell her, "She loves you and treating you like a daughter. That's what happens when you have all sons."
"I love her too," she says softly while picking at one of the holes in her jeans, then she smirks, "Almost as much as I love you." Her fingers creep across the center console and come in contact with my knee. Then she slowly creeps her fingers up my thigh.
"Miley," I warn. As hot as this is, it's definitely wrong.
"What?" she says so innocently that if I wasn't directly feeling her hand moving inwards I'd probably assume she wasn't doing anything wrong.
"Stop," I say trying to sound firm. But in my mind I'm calculating just how much longer it will take to get home. Five minutes, tops.
"Fine," she says moving her hand away. I'm surprised until she then moves her mouth to my ear and nibbles on it gently, "But only because we're almost home."
As much as I love her, I think this girl is going to drive me crazy. But as we pull into my parking space and rush up the elevator, holding hands and laughing, that doesn't seem like such a terrible thing.
Speaking of terrible things… work after staying up all night making love to your beautiful fiancé? Turns out it's not so fun. The day has been dragging on forever.
"How was that?" Mikayla asks hopefully as the last chord of the song she was just recording ends.
As much as I'd like to be able to say it was great, it wasn't. But it could be worse and honestly she is getting better at this even if "better" doesn't mean "good" quite yet.
"Good effort," I decide to say, figuring that's not a lie and it sounds pretty positive, right? "Now how about we take it again from the top."
She groans, "Niick, we've done that part at least ten times. Can't we, like, take a break or something?"
No, we cannot take a break. It's almost five and we're already behind schedule and I want to get home and eat and see my fiancé. But it doesn't look like I'm going to get to do that because the studio is booked for us until ten and judging by how far behind we are, we're going to need to use every moment of that time.
"Sure, five minutes," I say with a tight smile. I'm such a push over. But what am I supposed to say? 'No, we can't take a break'? Technically she's the one paying me.
"Thanks, Nick!" she says and rushes out of the studio to give me a hug, "Oh and by the way, later tonight MTV is coming to do a little interview with us, so you might want to freshen up."
"Okay- wait, what?"
That's so typical Mikayla. Not telling me something important like that. Now even more time will be wasted. Great, seriously, great.
"Yeah, they just want a little update on my album and stuff and they'll probably want to talk to you too," she says casually as if it's not a big deal, "My makeup and hair artists should be here around eight and the MTV crew is going to be here at like nine."
"And what time do you think it will be done?" I ask grinding my teeth and trying not to freak out.
"Oh definitely by ten," she assures me, "Don't worry you'll be out of here on time."
Yeah, Mikayla, I'll be out of here on time tonight. But what about the three hours we're wasting? When are we going to make those up? But it's not like I have the power to just stop the whole thing. There's Mikayla's PR people to go through and then MTV would have to change up their schedule and that's just more of a mess than I want to deal with. I guess I'll just have to suck it up.
By the time Mikayla's hair and makeup crew are done, the MTV crew has set up a space for the interview. They moved the couch in the recording studio so that it's in front of the soundboard, using the recording booth as the backdrop. Their lighting and cameras (yes, cameras, so they can get multiple views, of course) take up most of the rest of the room.
Mikayla emerges into the room, wearing a completely different outfit than the one she's been wearing for the rest of the day and her hair is curled to perfection. Her skin looks flawless even in the harsh lighting and her eyes are heavily lined and mascera-ed.
She takes a seat on the couch and the interview begins. She gushes about how excited she is and how her new music has a "more edgy, dance feel" to it and that she "can't wait to share it with the fans."
I know that's is the same thing that every artist says, myself included, but somehow it just sounds fake coming from her mouth. Maybe because she didn't actually write the music and seems to have no personal investment in it except the money and fame she gets.
Okay, maybe that's not fair. I don't really know her that well, but still… that's the impression I get from working with her. She doesn't seem to have a lot of knowledge about how music actually works besides standing in the booth and singing what she's told.
Mikayla babbles on for some more and they ask her about specific songs and whatever while I watch the hands on my watch tick.
'"Okay, Nick," the person who's coordinating the whole thing says, "We'll need some footage of you talking and then we'll have you and Mikayla in a few and then we want to get some raw footage of you guys recording just so we have some filler shots for the segment."
"Cool," I say because what else can I do? This is the job I decided to take. I sit down on the couch after Mikayla gets up and they start asking me prompt questions. That means the actual question won't be in the interview, they just want me to talk about the album and they'll weave it into something that makes sense. Most likely they'll try and twist my words around and make it seem like I'm saying stuff that I'm not which should be awesome.
"So Nick, what was it like working with Mikayla?"
"Oh it was great," I say with a tight smile, "She has a lot of energy that she brings to the studio. It was very exciting to work on this album with her."
"As a recording artist yourself, what was it like to be the producer?"
"It was definitely weird being behind the sound board instead of in the booth," I chuckle, "But it was a good experience for me to understand how the producer feels. I used to never understand why 'good enough' wasn't good enough, but now I know how it feels to want your artist to emit that perfect sound."
"So would you say Mikayla emits the perfect sound often?"
I freeze. Shit. I don't want to lie, but I can't say 'No, it takes forever to even get close' either. An awkward silence fills the room and a few people glance at Mikayla who is glaring at me.
"She improves every day," I finally say with a grin. They'll probably edit that part out anyway, but I can see Mikayla's publicist making frantic notes on her blackberry. Oops.
After more questions that I answer awkwardly cheerily, Mikayla sits down next to me.
"So what was is like working together?" the prompt asks.
"Oh it was fantastic," Mikayla gushes before I can get a word in, "Nick is sooo super talented and I'm so lucky to work with him."
"Yeah…" I say awkwardly, "It was really cool getting to work with Mikayla."
"Did this project bring you guys closer?"
"Well, Nick and I have been friends for a long time," Mikayla says, stressing the word 'friends' so it sounds like she doesn't mean friends at all. Here we go. More drama. Thank God I'm publically engaged otherwise I'd probably be forced to pretend that we're dating for PR.
"Yeah, being in the business, we run into each other at events and things," I clarify just to be spiteful.
"Nick and I definitely have a special bond," she says throwing her arm around me. Why won't she quit it? "He really understands me in the studio which is definitely important when it comes to a artist/producer relationship."
I try not to roll my eyes as she tightens her death grip on me. This is going to be a long night.
Much later as I go up the elevator to the penthouse I dread facing Miley. If she's even awake. I'm torn between hoping she's awake so I can at least see her and hoping that she's a sleep so I don't have to face her. Is she going to be pissed? I mean, I said I was going to be late, but I meant more like 10:30, not like 1AM.
"Miley?" I whisper softly, not wanting to disturb her if she is sleeping.
Curled up on the couch is Miley as soon as I make it into the living room. I smile at how cute she looks sleeping there, but then frown when I see what she's wearing. A pretty floral sundress and I can tell that there's makeup on her face. I pass her and then look into the dinning room.
My heart drops at the sight of the food on the table. She made dinner. There's even a glass of already poured wine at my seat. She waited up and dressed up and made dinner for me and I couldn't even call and tell her I was going to be even later than planned. I suck. Like really, really badly.
I look at the pasta dish and the chicken with the now-hardened cheese on it. It looks like it would've been good. I peek back into the living room and Miley is still sleeping. There's an empty wine glass on the coffee table next to her with the bottle next to it.
I decide not to wake her up just yet. I carefully and quietly clear the table and clean up the kitchen. I mean,.. it's the least I can do, right? And then if she's mad at me at least I did something right.
When I'm done, I finally approach her on the couch.
"Miley?" I say softly, sitting down next to her on the couch and resting my hand on her shoulder, "Mi, wake up."
She groans softly and shifts, but doesn't open her eyes.
"Come on, let's go to bed," I whisper, pushing the hair off her face.
Her eyes flicker open and meet mine.
"What time is it?" she asks with a yawn while stretching slightly in her seat.
"A little after one," I say nervously. Her eyes widen, but then go back to their normal state.
"Did you at least get a lot done?" she asks reaching a hand out to me to hoist her up all off the couch.
"Not at all," I confess, "She 'forgot' to tell me there was an MTV interview tonight. So, of course, nothing actually got done except PR."
"I'm sorry," she says genuinely, "Did you eat?"
Here it comes. The fight. Where she gets mad at me for not calling when she went through the effort to make dinner.
"Yeah, the record company supplied food for everyone…"
"That was nice of them…" she reaches over to the table and gets the wine glass and bottle that's sitting there. "I think I had a little too much," she says with a laugh, "Knocked me right out on the couch. That's why I prefer champagne."
Why is she so calm? Why isn't she angry? Hell, I would be angry if I was in her position.
I trail behind her as she walks towards the dinning room. She seems surprised to see it clean, but she doesn't say anything. The silence is making me nervous. Then she goes into the kitchen and puts the unfinished wine bottle in the fridge and puts her glass in the sink. I'm watching her carefully and I notice as her eyes check out the clean surfaces and the dishwasher that's clearly on.
"Did you clean up?" she says suddenly turning around to look at me.
"Yes?" I say confused still. Is this part of the argument? Should I be ready to defend myself?
"That was really sweet of you," she says surprising me and giving me a kiss on the cheek, "Are you ready for bed?"
She starts walking to the bedroom and I follow behind. She goes into the closet and I can hear her drawers being open and shut and a moment later she comes out in her pajamas. She gives me a quick smile before going into the bathroom. I hear the sink begin to run and I snap out of it and step out of my clothes, leaving my boxers on. Then I throw and undershirt on and head for the bathroom myself. She's standing there with her face free of makeup and a toothbrush sticking out of her mouth.
It's so normal except the fact that it's already morning. I'm still bracing myself for the blow up though. It has to happen soon. I start brushing my own teeth just as Miley spits and rinses her mouth and leaves the bathroom.
When I enter back into the bedroom she's already laying on her side of the bed. I turn the light off and then jump in next to her.
"Are you mad?" I whisper, the dark making me brave.
There's a pause.
"No, why would I be mad?"
"Because I was late and I didn't tell you."
She sighs and moves closer to me in the bed and brings her hand up to my face.
"But it was for work, right?"
I nod because I know she can feel it because her hand's on me.
"That's your job, Nick. You can't help it. I'd rather you be coming home late a few nights instead of being away from me all the time on a tour or whatever. I know this is a sacrifice for you and I'm not going to take advantage of that."
How is she so amazing? I place my hand over hers and bring her delicate fingers to my lips, kissing each one of them lightly.
"I love you," I murmur, "You're the best."
"I love you, too," she says and pulls her hand away from my mouth and replaces it with her lips.
I shift myself closer to her and place one hand on her waist while licking her bottom lip. Much to my disappointment though, she pulls away.
"Stop," she giggles, "I need sleep. I'm going into the studio with Jesse tomorrow."
"Oh I forgot," I say, "Do you want to carpool?"
"Carpool? Really?" she teases me, "But if you're offering me a ride, sure. As long as you're not going to be at the studio until 1 AM."
"I won't," I promise and she turns around to go to sleep. I pull her close to me though so that my body is spooning hers. Even though I'll probably only get a few hours of sleep tonight, I know they'll be good because I've got the love of my life right here with me.
Sorry it's been a long time. I was on vacation then trying to get ready for college then trying to figure out college. Not so fun. I don't know if I like this update. I felt like the transitions were very awkward... but maybe it's because I'm not really into the groove of writing anymore.
I'd like to say that I'll update sooner next time, but I don't want to make any false promises. I really don't know how writing is going to go now that I'm in college. I guess we'll see. Please review even though it's been a while. Tell me what you liked and didn't like. I have most of the story planned out but there's always room for filler and such so if there's any little thing (not like a whole story line but like one scene or something) that you'd like to see, let me know.
Love you all for sticking with me xx