(4) Out of Control: An All Time Low FanFiction Romance

Chapter 57: Your Plan

        I didn't think I'd be so anxious walking into a meeting at a round table. Hell, I wasn't even nervous the first time really getting down to business with All Time Low. It wasn't such a big concern in my mind then, but with the new emotion of insecurity that washed over my body a week before, it was something on the forefront of my mind all the time.

        It was something I blamed Jack for every minute I got that stupid feeling in my stomach.       

        When Lauren pushed the door open, hand holding the knob and letting us enter, it was easy to see four familiar faces along with one we'd never seen before. I gripped my song book in my hand tightly when their eyes washed over us casually, smiles on their lips. I didn't have to never meet the guy to know exactly who he was.

        "Hey guys, take a seat," Matt Squire spoke, dark and curly brown hair hanging in his face. He scratched the underside of his chin, beard showing against his light skin.

        The guys filed into the room with ease, taking the seats as they walked past them. Being last in line, I was forced towards the end of the table at the far side of the room, next to their annoying guitarist, spinning in his seat, glancing towards me with a straight line.

        I trudged towards the empty seat, sining into the uncomfortable office chair and pivoting my body towards the head of the table for no reason, considering Matt was sitting right in the center. I heard Jack snort something under his breath, but I chose to keep my mouth shut.

        "How are you all, good?" he asked, meeting each of our eyes. We each nodded, too stunned to say anyhting. He let out a chuckle, turning his attention to Alex, who was sitting comfortably at his side. "I thought you said they were almost as loud as you guys?"

        "Give them some time," Rian spoe up with a grin, trying to encourage us. "I think they're just fans of your work."

        He glanced over us again, keeping my gaze with a small twitch of his mouth. "I've heard a lot of things about you, Natalia."

        I tried to swallow the spit in my mouth, leaning forward in my chair and letting out a small, weary laugh. Running my fingers through my hair, I set my journal on the table and twisted my hands together in my lap.

        "I hope that's a good thing," I mumbled almost to myself. I was scared to know what Jack could have said to Matt. I didn't think he would ever do anything to hurt the guys, even if it would have been in the intention of hurting me.

        "I've heard you've got a hell of a set of lungs on you," he offered, pressing his back into his seat, reclining slightly. "And you've got some good ideas."

        I shot him a small grin, looking down at my small notebook in front of me. I would have brought my laptop, but I liked my little book of songs. I liked how I could see how hard I pressed the pen when I was frustrated, and the few salty tear satains, smearing the blue, printed lines when I was upset. It felt more personal with the book, like it was a part of me.

        "At least thirty ideas on me right now," I said, crossing my legs in my black skirt. "If they're good or not, is your opinion."

        "Of course they're good," Xavier laughed at my right, reaching over and giving my shoulder a shove. I shook my head, laughing in disbelief.

        "So, what's your plan for the album?" Matt asked, arms crossed over his chest.

        "To make it?" Maverick finally spoke innocently.

        The room felt so God damned small, and I was hot from the attention that was on me. I wanted to punch myself for the way I was acting. It wasn't like me to be this way.

        "I mean, what are you goals?" he questioned, unfazed by the statement.

        It fell silent while each of us searched for the words. I could see Lauren waiting quietly next to Zack, waiting for the answers we couldn't seem to find. There were so many things I wanted to accomplish with our first album.

        "There are way too many to list," Porter started, leaning on the table.

        "Don't worry about it, he asked the same thing when he helped with our third album and we still didn't have an answer," Zack chuckled from the end of the table, hands folding behind his head.

        "I just want people to like it," I muttered quietly, nails tracing knots in the wood of the table.

        "What was that?" Matt seemed to have heard me, directing his attention my way.

        I looked up, licking my lips once. I almost forgot I was in the room, almost forgot the presence of Jack on my side, looking on curiously. Picking at the black paint on my nails, I tried to find what I wanted to say, but I was still stumped.

        "It's just -- I really fucking suck at saying my feelings and like, no one is worse at it than me," I sighed, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. I picked my journal up offf the table, lifting it to show the table. "But this is where I put everything down, no matter what it is I'm writing about. It's the only way I've ever been able to say anything. If someone can relate to it, even if it's one thirteen year old in the middle of Kansas, I'd be happy. I'd be satisfied if someone got the same thing out of the songs that I did writing them."

        I saw the confused expressions, the unsure eyes. It wasn't like me to talk that much about feelings, or emotions in general. I never really addressed it before, but by the grin on Matt's face, I could see it was a good answer.

        "Very nice, can we take a look at some of them?" he asked politely.

        I nodded, sliding the black leather book against the table, landing a few inches from his chest. He lifted it, letting the pages run past his fingertips, opening to a random page, eyes scanning it.

        I tried not to think about the eyes next to me, burning holes in the side of my head. I didn't want to think about him right then at all. So, I just watched Matt's reaction, tuning everything out around me.