Only Bones

“Estée!”

She was standing outside one of the billion Syco offices stationed around the city, gazing up at the gigantic glass paneled pillar. But it wasn’t just any giant glass pillar. It was the Sony Records building, home to some of the most iconic names in the business. Estée was almost sick with nerves until she heard Liam’s voice.

He was all smiles as he burst through the doors of the building, looking handsome as always in a pair of dark jeans and a simple grey t-shirt. The sight of him set her at ease, the concept of a familiar face being by her side made the whole operation feel significantly smaller. But on that same token, the thought of performing in front of him again turned her stomach into knots.

“Hey Liam,” she greeted softly, allowing him to scoop her up in a hug.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’m ever gonna be.”

Liam laughed. “Well we may as well get you in there before you lose your nerve.”

Estée wondered if he knew how real of a possibility that truly was. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably at her sides as his eyes rolled over her figure before nodding towards to building to signal their entrance. He apparently hadn’t noticed.

She was feeling oddly uncomfortable in her own skin that day, a feeling she wasn’t entirely used to. If Estée was anything, she was confident – she had the guts to go out into dark and scary bars all over the city and sing for a bunch of dark and scary gentlemen who insisted on trying to be with her. But as they walked through the lobby of Sony, she couldn’t help but let her sights trail across the figures and outfits of those around her.

Bodies straight as boards and taller than she could ever hope to be, even in her Primark heels. The women looked as though they looked right off a ready to wear runway at fashion week, parading in trendy outfits. Estée thought she was doing herself a service by splurging on a new dress from Topshop. But it was becoming increasingly clear that maybe it was actually a disservice.

“He’s going to love you,” Liam insisted with a wide grin, leading her to the welcome desk and retrieving her guest badge. “I don’t know how he couldn’t. You really have nothing to worry about.”

“He?” Estée questioned, slipping the lanyard around her neck.

“Simon, of course,” Liam clarified, shooting her a confused look. “Who else?”

Her stomach dropped to the floor beneath her, heartbeat skittering through every vein in her body. Simon Cowell. The Simon Cowell. She was going to be singing for one of the biggest names in the business. She had to reach out to the wall surrounding the glass elevator to support her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she gasped. “Just peachy.”

Liam looked at her for a moment, his brown eyes searching her for a reason to her funny, abnormally weak attitude. It was unlike Estée to be so nervous and they both knew it. She tugged awkwardly at the hem of her skirt as Liam pressed the button on the elevator and the doors opened to them shortly afterward.

“You really don’t need to be afraid,” Liam insisted. “He’s not that bad.”

She shot him a pointed look. “Liam. I’ve watched the X-Factor.”

Liam shot her that same look back. “Estée. I’ve competed on the X-Factor.”

He had a point. And a hell of a lot more experience with Simon than she did. So she shrugged in defeat and followed him into the elevator, promptly following him back out on the sixth floor. Liam babbled about how excited he was to hear her sing again while guiding her to a glass door on the left, revealing yet another large office with a desk and a receptionist.

“Liam!” a low, rough voice called out to her companion. Estée trained her eyes back to the source to find a boy with curly brown hair and a wide, bright smile approaching them in yet another outfit that looked like it was casually purchased off the runway.

“I thought we’d finally convinced security to keep you out, Styles,” Liam teased gruffly, embracing his friend in a one armed hug. Estée choked out a bit. In her proper research of One Direction, she’d come to learn that this was ladies man himself, Harry Styles.

“Oh piss off,” Harry hummed with a roll of his eyes. “I’m heading out to see Daria in Birmingham so you won’t have to bother with me.”

“Gonna snog her yet?” Liam asked with a wink.

Harry laughed. “Piss off, Liam,” he stated again, more forcefully this time before relegating his eyes to Estée. “Is this her?”

Suddenly, the woman at the desk interrupted the conversation. “Estée? Mr. Cowell will see you now.”

“I suppose that’s a yes,” Harry said, his grin widening. “Good luck then, Estée. Catch you later, Li.”

Estée stood frozen in the lobby, watching as Harry disappeared out the door. Liam gave her an encouraging look and gestured to the door with his elbow.

“Aren’t you coming with me?” she nearly begged. He shook his head.

“Go on. You’ll do better without me anyway.”

Though she followed his words and proceeded to the doors across the room from her, Estée couldn’t help but disagree. Liam was supposed to be her security blanket through all this, the one who had gotten her to even come over to Syco in the first place. That was another thought she had to stomach altogether – the thought that she could rely on another human being for anything, that is – but it would have to wait until she tackled the task in front of her.

That task being a dark haired, tan skinned, middle-aged man in a black t-shirt sitting at the desk in Simon Cowell’s office. That task being Simon Cowell himself. Estée could have fainted right then.

“Estée Croft?” Simon asked in his best, most commanding voice, one she’d come to know well after years of watching him on television. The sound of it in real life was positively unreal.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she hummed rather ineloquently, crossing the room and extending her hand to the mogul. He glanced at her for a second before standing up and taking it rather firmly in his, shaking it once, and releasing her. Estée gulped.

“I’m sorry to be blunt but I don’t really have much time,” he quipped, smoothing his shirt and sitting back down in his chair. “I fit you into my schedule because Liam showed me your CD and as a favor I gave it a listen.”

Her heart dropped. She was there purely on a favor. She may as well have walked out the door right there.

“But,” Simon continued. “When I listened to that CD, I knew that I absolutely had to hear you sing in person. On tape, you have a phenomenal talent. I want to see how it translates.”

And in an instant her heart was back, but this time in her throat. She was there because Simon Cowell liked her voice. But then realization hit. She was still going to have to sing.

“Thank you so much,” she breathed, wringing her hands together behind her back. “I entirely respect that you don’t have much time, I can just do a snippet.”

“No,” he corrected, leaning forward on his elbows to give her his full attention. “Sing your whole song. Which will be…”

“And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going.”

“Acapella?”

She nodded.

“Brave,” he intoned, raising his eyebrows. “Go ahead, whenever you’re ready.”

Estée nodded again, preparing herself to sing the tune Jennifer Hudson once sang in Dreamgirls. It was a big song with a lot of big vocals, just enough to impress Simon. But she was going to have to do it just right, because if it went in any other direction but perfect, she was going to be screwed.

No pressure, she thought to herself, setting diaphragm and taking a few cleansing breaths. At first, she imagined that she was singing for Liam and only Liam. But that thought made her nervous too, his beautiful brown eyes watching her every move and setting her skin on fire. Instead, she closed her eyes and imagined singing for her cat.

“And I am telling you I’m not going,” she began softly at first, trying to build some sort of dramatic momentum. “You’re the best man I’ll ever know.”

Simon leaned back in his chair and looked unimpressed, as though he was disappointed in her song choice. Shaking the thought from her mind, she pressed on, letting her voice build as she made her way to the powerful climax of the song.

“Tear down the mountains, yell scream and shout!” she exclaimed. “You can say what you want, I’m not walkin’ out.”

At her strong tone and passionate voice, Simon leaned forward, a look of disbelief spreading on his face. A slow smile appeared on his lips, nodding patiently along to her words.

“Stop all the rivers, push, strike and kill,” she cried in her purest voice, knees buckling from the force. “I’m not gonna leave you, there’s no way I will!”

She sang her powerful way through the rest of the song, trying to do it as much justice as she could in her nervous state. By the end she was certain her legs would collapse beneath her, all the power she’d built completely tearing her apart. Her voice was soft by the last lines, trying to deliver as much of a dramatic effect as she could.

“Love me, love me,” she breathed, closing her eyes once more to block out Simon’s reaction. “You’re gonna love me.”

When she opened her eyes, the pair simply stared at each other for a moment absolutely wordless. She breathed in heaving, gasping breaths, everything gone from her system in an effort to put on her best show for him. His eyes were wide and that coy, barely parted smile still played on his lips.

“So?” she asked, finally impatient for an answer.

“Estée Croft,” Simon proclaimed. “I think it would be an honor to work with you if we could somehow make it happen.”