Song Of The Heart

Shouldn’t there be a warning in life, like ‘oh by the way tomorrow you’re going to meet this really, cute, shy, funny, adorable guy. It’ll be like a love at first sight kind of thing.’

If only that excised. I suppose looking back on my mistakes and my faults I should have realized, I’m not exactly the most normal person. I guess looking love in the eyes is a scary thing. But facing it dead on-well that’s down right dangerous.

If only I had slept in that day and missed my flight.

I watched with lazy eyes as my mother checked my luggage in, my red tired eyes shielded by my Marc Jacobs shades. I wasn’t the liveliest person at 5:30 a.m. and my warm night clothes weren’t helping my case.

“Have fun in York Lex,” my twin brother Collin mumbled. To say the least, we were pretty much the same. I nodded and covered my yawn, “Do you have school today?” my brother let out a light groan, “Don’t remind me.”

I cracked a grin; the heavy weight pressing down on my eyes began to lift. “Well I want you to have a nice day, remember to play nice with all the other boys,” Collin’s beautiful green eyes pursed into a glare.

“I still don’t see how it’s fair or legal for that matter, that you get to ‘take time off’ from schooling.” I rolled my eyes and popped a piece of Juicy Fruit into my mouth, “Hey I’m still in school and it’s called a tutor idiot.”

Collin made a face, “Alex your bags are all checked in, now I want you to call me when your flight lands.” My mother warned pulling me into a tight hug, “your father wants you to call him as well,” her tone was cold.

I hugged her back and hugged Collin as well, “I really do wish you were staying in New York longer.” Collin grinned. I playfully shoved him and picked up my Prada bag. “Yeah well when I come back in two weeks, don’t expect a gift!” I chuckled walking through the SFO airport entrance.

I was in New York for two weeks; Hollywood records asked if I could possibly perform a duet at the 2009 VMA’s. In order to do that I needed to record and write for that matter a song with the other artist.

Originally I was suppose to perform with Chris Brown, but unfortunately he hurt his back dancing and wasn’t even attending the awards this year, what a shame. So now I’m still flying in-while Hollywood records continues on its search.

After an hour of waiting I was escorted onto the plane by airport security. I let my heavy head rest on the complimentary pillow, thoughts raced through my mind as my eyes began to close,

who would I perform with? Would they be nice? Would they be talented?

Soon my eyes closed completely, and the next four hours were spent in pure bliss.

--

As soon as the plane had landed I rushed into the ladies bathroom, and quickly changed into this. There was no way I’d meet my boss in my old school pajamas. I let the New York airport security pick up my luggage and escort me into a complementary limo.

Sometimes being famous wasn’t always a bad thing. I rested my head against the tinted window and decided to call my mother and check in with her; maybe I’d call Collin while he’s in class just to bother him.

I let my mother rush me with questions as to how I was doing, I told her that I was fine and had made it here safely-thanks in part to fairly big burly men guiding my way.

She explained that Ed Ronworth had called and explained my situation as far as a hotel was concerned and that my body guard, Big Mo was waiting for me at Hollywood records.

After my conversation with my mother I called my father. He didn’t pick, probably in a board meeting, so I left him a message.

By the time I was finished the black stretch limo had pulled up to the crowded curb. I stretched a bit then grabbed my purse as the limo driver opened the door for me,

I thanked him and ignored the flashing cameras as well as the cat calls I received. A tall blonde women waiting patiently in the main lobby smiled at me, “You must be Alexandra Lewis, I’m Lacy I’m here to take your to Mr. Ronwroth’s new office.” I nodded and followed her to a glass elevator.

We rode up in silence to the fifteenth floor, “His office is right down the hall and to your left.” I smiled at her and gripped my purse tighter; the hallway was draped with pictures of famous artist signed to the label.

I stopped and stared at one specific picture, Ed was hugging a tiny girl tightly, she was beaming with a pearly white smile, and her beautiful blonde locks were brushed out straightly. To the right of the duo was a plaque, it was a diamond record for Melt these hearts.

And there was the signature, a neatly cursive name written out on the picture.

Alexandra Jean Lewis, age fourteen.

I finished gazing at the picture quickly dried my wet eyes, I continued down the hallway until I came across an oak wood door. Ed Ronworth’s name was printed neatly on the door.

I could hear muffled voices in side, no doubt more then one person in there. I gripped the door handle with my French manicured fingers and twisted the knob. I was right.

There were four.