At No Time || Bruno Mars

16

Trystan sat with her back against the arm of the couch, the pillow between she and the wooden structure offering little comfort as she rummaged betwixt her thoughts in sought of inspiration. Bella was snuggled against her stomach, fast asleep, and didn't seem bothered by the noisy scratch of Trystan's pencil.

Come on, think, Trystan urged herself but found it increasingly difficult to cultivate even one line. What was going on? She'd written plenty of songs by herself before, filled to capacity with motivation bereft any assistance, but now, the insight she normally had was completely absent.

Maybe I'm hungry; yeah, that's it. Trystan had been working for nearly three hours already and hadn't eaten anything but a piece of fruit earlier in the day. She disregarded the notion that her hunger pains had very little to do with her lack of production, removed Bella from her lap onto the floor and headed into the kitchen.

It took only the sound of Honey Bunches of Oats shaking in its box to have Bella awaking and scampering into the kitchen, eager to partake in the treat. Trystan couldn't help but giggle at the little pig's excitement.

"No one said you could have any," she teased, but nevertheless filled the piglet's feeding bowl halfway full of the cereal.

As they both crunched on the midday snack, Trystan's mind drifted and reluctantly landed on the fact that she was inevitably lonely.

Back in New York, she'd had plenty of friends who'd help her occupy any free time she had. Much of her family was there, too, and no matter how overwhelming they could be, she did miss them. Not so much where she wished to move back so quickly, but she did crave their company. Angelique did a lot for her, Trystan could appreciate, but even she had admitted to her once before that she missed her life back in Brooklyn. Los Angeles was wonderful and filled with many things, but lacked an air of familiarity that Trystan desired.

It was nearing December, and Trystan was eased by the remembrance that she'd be returning home for the holidays. Maybe then, surrounded by old motivations, would she be able to create as she normally would.

She was comforted by the thought but was still inconceivably bored. Typically, songwriting was the very thing she went to to fill her monotony, but today that wasn't the case. She needed something else to bide her time.

"Tree, I don't know why you act like it's such a chore to come here. You dance great!" Angelique swatted Trystan with her towel, berating Trystan's laziness. "You used to love to dance; what happened?"

Settle on the floor as she re-tied her shoes, Trystan replied, "Well, y'know, when you're so busy being one of the country's newest and most successful songwriters-slash-producers, it doesn't leave time for much else."

Angelique twisted her lips snidely. "Yeah, whatever. Just know that if you weren't "one of the country's newest and most successful songwriters-slash-producers," you could definitely be some type of choreographer. You should get into that since you're so bored here."

"Hey, I told you that in confidence." Trystan pointed a teasing finger. "And besides; I really don't have the time. I shouldn't even be here honestly–"

"Oh, my God—did you guys hear?!" Trystan and Angelique's conversation was interrupted by Angelique's girlfriend, Melissa, who'd grabbed onto to the blonde dreaded woman's arm excitedly.

"Hear what?" Angelique became roused and insisted Melissa confess to her the news immediately.

"You know that new artist Elle Marie?"

"Yeah, yeah. Tree wrote a song for her," Angelique jabbed a thumb in Trystan's direction as if her friend's notable career were customary.

"Well, get this—she wants a dance number for the video she's making; ballet-esque, and she wants to use our studio and instructors!"