A Dreamers Dream

Somewhere on the M40, England.

As he pulled away from our now familiar goodbye hug routine, I felt his soft, warm lips press against my forehead. Lingering there for just a moment. A quiet sigh I couldn't entirely control slipped from my lips in protest when he pulled away, and he flashed me one of his trademark superstar smiles. The ones, I am convinced, he only pulls out when there are cameras around, or he's truly happy about something. I felt myself grinning stupidly back at him as he turned and made his way over to his car.
"Drive safe Trouble" He called as he closed the door, and drove off, leaving me standing there in the near-empty car park like a complete prat, still wondering what on earth had just happened.

It took me a good five or ten minutes to actually move and get into my own car, and for the first time in years, I wished I still smoked. Just so I'd have something to do with my shaking hands. It wasn't until a guy in pristine looking chef whites came out of the back door of the hotel holding a large black bin bag and gave me a questioning look, that I finally snapped back to reality and decided it was time to get back on the road.

So now, here I am, zooming down the M40 in a complete daze, trying to figure out the answers to the hundred questions fluttering around my brain. Firstly, what the fuck am I supposed to wear? Secondly, is this just a meeting? Or more of an Audition? Should I take my guitar with me? And if they ask me to sing, what should I play? And Thirdly, and possibly most mind-bogglingly, why has Harry set this up for me? Surely given the position he's in, he must get badgered to set up meetings or send off demo's or work with wannabe singers every other day. So what would make him decide to help me? When I hadn't even asked him to? When I'm really nothing special?

These thoughts, amongst others, plagued me all the way down to London. By the time I reach my small studio flat just on the outskirts of town, I am absolutely exhausted, and to be honest, I am starting to wonder if I dreamt the entire conversation. I have barely been sleeping, after all, maybe I'm just overtired and imagining things? Or it was part of a half-remembered dream I had? But a quick check of my phone proves that it was, in fact, real. As promised, the message icon is flashing away, and when I open it, I see the name and address of a man in Soho who I am to meet on Thursday afternoon at one o'clock. Wow. Without thinking, I hit the reply button and send him a message.

Maddie:
Why me? X

Harry:
Because you deserve it. Your voice is amazing Maddie. I've never heard anyone sing like you before. Even in the car, today prating about you sounded like a cross between Stevie Nicks and Whitney Houston. It would have been more stupid of me NOT to send on that video H xx.

I read the text four times through before his words finally started to sink in. Although I'm reasonably sure he's exaggerating, comparing me to two of the most famous female singers that have ever lived. The compliment and his faith in me still make me smile.

Maddie:
Thank you. I'll try not to let you down x.

Harry:
Trouble, the only way you could let me down would be if you turned up late, or not at all. Trust me. You'll do great. H xx

I spend a bloody wonderful nearly sixteen odd hours at home in my flat, enjoying the peace and quiet. I even manage to pack up enough clothes to last me for the upcoming trip to Scotland and Ireland. Which is all I really need right now as I'll be back here for a day or two before we head off to Australia next week. And! I only had two, ok.. maybe three... major meltdowns over the meeting.

After pulling pretty much every item of clothing out of my wardrobe and trying on at least ten different outfits, I finally settle on wearing my stylishly ripped black jeans, knee-high lace-up boots and a white off the shoulder top. Deciding it portrays the kind of image I want to put across. I smooth the items out and position them carefully across the back of my sofa, reminding myself not to go near that area of the flat with any food or drink for the next day or so.