AN: Wow! The responses to the prologue where amazing! I think I had a stroke when I woke up the next morning and had 55 mails, all from fanfiction, notes from all you guys and that made me really happy.
To answer some questions first, this story will only show Arizona's point of view, this is her story, which is a challenge for me and I like to challenge myself every once in a while. Also, this story is new, but TIAM is still going and I plan on taking turns each week. In this story, it might take a few chapters until Callie actually shows up and I really hope you'll take this journy with me.
Staring at the blank page on my computer screen – the blinking cursor catching my attention every few seconds – I can't help but sigh heavily. This was not how I had planned my evening. The original plan was to write until my fingers would bleed, or something close to that, but that plan flew out of the window when my parents decided to drop a bomb on me. A bomb named law school. Just the thought of it makes me want to vomit. They want me to attend Harvard Law School, simply because they want me to "be someone" or to "achieve something" or to "do something with my life". As if I am not doing something with my life right now?! Sure, I have not followed into my father's footsteps, unlike my brother Tim who joined the United States Marine Corps. I did graduate from college on top of my class as expected and then I packed up everything I would need and kind of went from there. I traveled for two years, I saw so many places and experienced so many amazing things, some of them are still hard to describe. But now I am back and admittedly, I have been jumping from job to job, but that does not mean that I am not doing anything. I've seen the world, the wish to become a writer becoming clearer and clearer over the years. I want to be a writer ever since I've been in eighth grade, not attend law school. I have no ambition to become a lawyer or an attorney or whatsoever. This is not how I picture my future. But my father keeps saying that I have no vision, that I am wasting my life. Just because he doesn't understand a creative mind.
When I let go of a breath I didn't know I have been holding in, my eyes flicker from my screen to the pictures on the wall behind my desk. Pictures of my family, my friends from the past and the present. One photograph sticks out. It shows me at the age of seventeen and my best friend from overseas, Anna. I met her when my father was stationed in England and although some people think our friendship is weird because there's an age difference of almost twenty years, she is one of the kindest and best friends I've ever had. And I wouldn't trade this friendship for anything.
Swinging my legs over the arm of my chair, I sigh again. Anna knows what I want to do for a living and she has never stopped supporting my dream. And next to my best friend, Teddy, she's the only one encouraging me not to give up. Why can't my dad just see that I have my own dream?
My phone buzzes on my desk and I almost fall from the chair as it startles me. It's my best friend. Speaking of the devil, I think to myself and answer the call. "Hey Teds, what's up?", I ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, yet if Teddy finds out I have been stuck deep in my thoughts again, she'll want to talk. And I don't know if I want to talk about my parents' decision just yet.
"Hey A, do you have time to talk or are you busy playing with yourself while thinking about the mighty Callie Torres?", my best friend mocks, lowering her voice as she says the actress' name.
"Wha-? I am not- I wasn't- TEDDY!", I burst out aghast. My best friends boldness is sometimes just a little bit too much for me. "How many times do I have to tell you, that I am not a hormone-crazed teenager?" And as if she is standing right behind me, I push some notes for my new story over the picture of the beautiful brunette that has been lying on my desk for a few days now. It's the latest Latina Magazine and she's the cover girl, with her gorgeous legs and glorious curves and- Stop, Arizona, I remind myself. Do not go there again.
"Whatever, A", she snickers, clearly enjoying the embarrassment which is evident in my voice. "I'm just calling to tell you that our movie night this Saturday is canceled. Henry finally asked me on a date and I can't say no to that. I have been waiting for ages for him to ask."
I listen to the explanation as I cross out the movie night in my agenda. I was looking forward to having some time with my best friend, having some girl talks and maybe ask her for a plan to get out of this law school misery, but I can understand her reason, even though sheis more than just exaggerating. "Ages?", I ask, raising an eyebrow. "It's been two weeks, Teddy. Two and a half weeks at the very most. That's not ages."
"It is", she rebuts and I can only imagine how she's pressing her cell phone between her shoulder and her ear while demonstratively crossing her arms over her chest. "Anyway, what have you been up to? I mean, I know you well enough to know that your computer is on and that you're either reading or writing fan fiction, but there's always a tiny chance that you're doing something else."
She's teasing me again. And I know that she's only partly serious about it, but to be fair, she is kind of right. "Nothing, really. Just staring at the screen, willing my head to make a decision so I know which idea I'm going to invest some time in. You know, the struggle of a person like me", I joke halfheartedly. Because to be honest, sometimes it is hard to just pick one idea when you have ten different story lines running through your mind at the same time.
"When are you going to hand in your finished story?", Teddy asks and I tense up immediately.
She knows she got me there. She gets me every time with that stupid question. And every time I give her the same answer. "It's not that easy, Teds." It's the same answer I give Anna as well and although she is not as persistent and pushy about it, she did tell me a couple of times to find a publisher, even if I would only do it to show my dad that I do have a talent – at least that's what Anna calls it. "There are tons of authors out there who are way better than I am and it took them years to find someone who was gonna give their story a shot. J. K. Rowling was-"
"Sent away by many publishers before someone gave Harry a chance to learn everything about magic and safe the world from the dark Lord, I know", she cuts me off. "But your story is locked in the upper drawer of your desk since you came back from traveling the world, A. I am not saying that it's easy, but you'll never know if you don't give it a try." I hear her take a breath at the other end of the line, probably pinching the bridge of her nose as well. We've been best friends for longer than I can remember, and we've had this conversation more times than I can count, she's always reacting the same way. "Look, A, one day, you gotta have to stop being a coward and do something with your gift. You do have a way with words and it's an amazing way. Please promise me to think about it."
"As always", I answer honestly. I always promise her to think about it, but eventually, I always end up thinking that I am not ready for that step yet. Someday, maybe. "So, do you need me to find you a perfect outfit for your date with Henry?", I ask, changing the subject, purposefully avoiding to talk about me anymore. And so it begins. I can't even be mad about it because I asked, but I think she didn't stop talking about her crush for at least an hour and then she threw descriptions of various shirts and pants at me. I swear, she's just as bad as I am at making a decision. Before I know it, we've been on the phone for two hours and she starts yawning more and more. Knowing how packed her days are, I say, "You should get some sleep, Teds. Med school will be waiting for you tomorrow."
"Yeah", she agrees, stifling yet another yawn. "Do you want to come over for movie night on Sunday? My first class on Monday starts at noon, so you can stay over if you want to?"
"You only want to tell me everything about your date", I laugh, but I happily take her up on the offer. "One condition though, Teds", I say and she groans, already knowing what is coming next. "One Disney because you're dumping me on Saturday."
"Make that two, because you're my best friend and you sound like you need some cheering up", Teddy says. Apparently, she's seen right through my facade, even though I thought I did fool her this time. "Will you tell me what's up on Sunday? You know, share a pot of chocolate-chip-cookie-dough ice cream with your bestie and tell her what's bothering you?"
My gaze locks on a picture of her and me, on a night out after my first girlfriend broke up with me. She's been there through everything, she's always there. "I promise", I say and wish her a good night after telling her not to do anything I wouldn't do either to which she laughs.
Securing my phone in the docking station and put on some music, my eyes are back on my screen, the empty page still barracking me, show me how I didn't manage to put any word on it so far. I close my eyes and listen to the music as Callie Torres' voice fills my ears. She's clearly an all-round talented person. She can sing, according to the media, she even writes her own songs and I really do not need to elaborate what a heart-stopping and jaw-dropping actress she is. She's started her career with a very impressive supporting role five years ago – I've seen that movie about a hundred times – and now she has the privilege to choose the movies from tons of scripts. At least, that's what the press and multiple fan blogs tell me. I can spend hours browsing through those blogs, finding picture after picture, saving every new photograph of her I don't have already, using her as my muse when I am stuck.
The same goes for her songs and tonight is no different. Closing my eyes, I let her voice take over my whole system. She's in my brain, in my soul and at last, she's in my fingertips as they hit the keyboard without me even looking at what I am writing. I can see the picture right before my very eyes. She's talking to a blonde – who looks almost like me and she's leaning closer, whispering something into the blonde's ear that makes both of them chuckle. I know what she's saying, but I'm not writing it down. One of the perks of being a writer and bringing my own imagination on paper is that I can keep some of these things to myself, like's she's only saying them for me to hear.
When I open my eyes again, the first thing I notice is that I am near the bottom of the page and it doesn't look too shabby either. Sure, some typos, some words are underlined in that angry red color, telling me I made a mistake. But it's normal. Typos are my friend sometimes, because they make me go over my written stuff and sometimes I find myself reading a passage I can't remember writing it, because I was too lost, too zoned out and wrote without giving it a second thought. And to be honest, those are the passages I always love the most.
Leaning back, I don't go over my work immediately. I let the next song sink in, let the sound of her voice touch my soul and heart again while staring at the cover of the magazine on my desk until flipping it open, reading the article about her work and speech for the Human Rights Campaign for the umpteenth time today. I'd give everything to meet her one day, even though I am more than sure that I would stumble and stutter my way through the conversation. But she seems like a genuine and lovable person. "Calliope Torres, maybe one day, you'll know that I exist", I whisper with a deep-drawn sigh. That names sounds way to good rolling of my tongue and before I know it, I am lost in yet another daydream about her. I am so hooked, and I am not even ashamed to admit it; I have the biggest crush on a straight celebrity.
So, what did you think? Is Callie really straight? And how will they meet?