I Don't Belong Here

"Wait – so…you're related to one of our roadies, and he took you on tour with us for a week?" he asked.

I nodded quickly, hoping he would buy the story and just get over it.

"…I don't think I've seen you anytime soon, almost like…"

Brian's POV.

"...Almost like…like I knew you. I don't know, whenever I try to remember where I've seen your voice, my head just flashes back into a version of a…a…I don't know, a…younger you," I said, blurting out what I was trying to say.

I swear, I think I've seen Sonny bef –

Sonny. Huh. Who names their daughter Sonny? No one normal, that's who.

I began racking my head for possible names including Sonny as a nickname.

Jameson. No, another guy name.

Mason? No.

Maddison? I don't think I've ever known a Maddison…

Addison. Addie.

I looked at Sonny. No way this can be Addie, but then again, those primary features of her face looked the same as they did in high school.

Fuck, does she look hot. But then again, there's no way that could be Addie.

This girl was bangin'. Addie…wasn't.

But, I couldn't take any chances.
"Is…Do you…Does Sonny stand for something?" I asked her, breathing minimally.

Her eyes widened, and I was thinking, "Oh, my God," up until she blurted out, "N-No."

Then, I looked at her with curious, yet scrutinizing eyes.

"Are you sure? I don't know many people – or any at all – that name their daughter Sonny," I said, practically urging her to tell the truth. She is Addison.

"Well, mine did," she said, trying to look into my eyes as proof of telling the truth. She ended up looking away before finishing her sentence.

"Sonny…Does your name stand for Addie?" I asked quietly, looking straight at her.

Her head whipped straight to mine, and I noticed her eyes were wide. I almost smiled to myself; she'd cracked.

"Oh, my God," she murmured, closing her eyes, and burying her face into the palms of her hands.

Addie's POV.

Oh, my fucking God. How embarrassing! Although, I did feel a pang of guilt for not telling him in the first place.

"Addie! It is you!" he exclaimed, scooching closer to me, and giving a hug.

I cringed away from him, trying to remember what he did to me.

But right now, I was feeling so many emotions.

Relieved that I didn't have anything to hide.

Happy that, now because he knows who I am, I can yell at him without feeling guilty.

Angry that I now have to work with him, etc.

"I don't know why…You...," I sighed loudly, "You broke up with me, remember?" I said, disgusted, that just because I look better now, that he's already trying to get into my pants.

"I…I was stupid; young; I didn't know what I was missing," he said, practically pleading.

"Alright, this is kind of awkward, but just to set the record straight, you broke up with me – "

"I know, you said that already," Brian interrupted, rolling his eyes playfully.

" – and that, technically, I am single – "

"So am I, babe, so am I," he smirked, flashing his teeth.

"Yeah, and you are, and we're not in high school anymore – interrupt me, and you die," I narrowed my eyes at him as he opened his mouth to add in his two cents.

I continued, "All we are now are two people in the music industry, working together to produce an album, nothing more."

"So, we're not even friends?"

I looked at him, and even though I was desperate as to not say anything harsh, I had to spit out, "I don't know. You were really shallow to dump me because I started getting fuckin' fat, Brian."

"I know. Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked. God, I groaned mentally. He was trying so hard to get my friendship, and afterwards, would try to get me to like him.

I wasn't gonna let it happen, but I wanted to talk to him about the whole "high school" ordeal just so we could clear up the past.

"Yeah, actually, yeah I do."

"Well, what do you wanna talk about?" Brian asked awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'd just like to point out that when you dumped me, you weren't exactly a pretty sight either, okay? Your hair was too long for a guy, too greasy, your button nose wasn't attractive, and you weren't exactly 'toned,' you wore too much eyeliner, you looked stoned half of the time…," I took a breath, "I could go on."

"Damn. If I was all of that, why didn't you break up with me, then?" he practically sneered, questioning my "position" in our relationship.

"Because I wasn't a shallow bitch," I snarled, grabbing my bag and walking swiftly out of Starbucks.