A Dreamers Dream

Another day, another interview. London, England

The silence seems deafening in the small, beige covered room, and my thoughts wander incessantly. I pick up my guitar and practise the song I've chosen to sing this afternoon, which I'm fairly certain I could play in my sleep at this point I've already practised it so much. Before I abandoned that too and lay down on my bed, staring at the, also beige, ceiling.

I know Sammy's right and that I need to be more confident. I'm sure as hell not going to get anywhere in this business if I wander around like a shy little mouse who's terrified of everyone. But this could be my big break, and I'm fucking nervous as hell.

Just as I am about to go wandering the halls to try and locate Clark, or even Harry maybe to distract me, the alarm on my phone begins to sound. Time to go.

After a fairly uneventful tube journey, I hop off at Piccadilly circus and make my way through the tightly packed streets of Soho, dodging tourists taking photos and people rushing to get back to the office after lunch.

As I turn down Lower John Street, the maps app on my phone that has been directing me suddenly squawks loudly into my ear "Your destination is on the right" making me jump a little in surprise and abruptly come to a stop in the middle of the road. Which, in turn, causes a well-suited man with a briefcase in one hand and his smartphone in the other, to walk straight into my back and send me stumbling forward. Shit.

"Watch it lady" He calls as he continues down the road, barely breaking his stride as he shoots me a dirty look over his broad shoulder.

"Sorry!" I call back after his retreating form. Silently wishing I had the balls to point out that if he were paying more attention to where he was going and less to his phone.. he might not have smashed into me at all. I know I'm clumsy as fuck, but for once, that actually wasn't entirely my fault.

Regaining my composure, I take a couple of deep breaths, square my shoulders and, with my guitar case handles grasped tightly in my hand, I make my way inside the large glass-fronted building whose name matches the one on the text Harry sent me yesterday. Silently praying that this isn't another prank.

"Hi, I'm erm, Maddie, Matilda Graham, I have an appointment with Mr Novak?" I say to the woman behind the desk, which naturally is also completely made of glass, do these people not know other materials exist? She looks up at me over the rims of her stylish black glasses, and without bothering to speak, she holds up a long finger with a perfectly manicured bright red nail, filed into a sharp point at me. Indicating I should wait, whilst she clicks away on her mouse with her other hand.

"Mr Novak is running late this afternoon, please take a seat, and he'll be with you shortly," She says in a bored voice as if this is a phrase she has to repeat several times a day.

I glance around the small, brightly lit reception area looking for a place to sit. There are two uptight looking businessmen in suits sitting on a leather sofa on one side of the room. Opposite a long, empty, shelf-like cushioned window seat up against the sparklingly clean glass that looks out over the bustling streets of Soho. I make my way over to the shelf and settle myself down carefully, right on the edge, ensuring that I don't accidentally lean up against the window and leave a mark.

Embarrassingly, and of course right on cue because that's just how my life works, it's at that moment that my phone goes off and my text tone, which happens to be the noise of a Minion laughing, echoes loudly through the glass space. Seeming to bounce off of every single pane before I can finally silence it.

I notice the receptionist throw me an unimpressed glance before she returns her attention to her screen and the pair of men sitting across the room pause there conversation to tut at me, I throw them an apologetic look. At least it happened out here and not in the meeting, I think to myself as I frown down at the screen.

Harry:
Just wanted to wish you luck! Hope you found the place ok. I'm sure you'll be great, just try and keep the swearing to a minimum ;) Come find me before the show and let me know how you got on. H x

I discreetly tap out a quick response and silence my phone.

Maddie:
I'll do my best. Thanks again for this, I can't believe I'm here x.

"Miss Graham? Mr Novak will see you now." announces an incredibly tall blonde, wearing a form-fitting knee-length royal blue dress. Who seems to have appeared out of thin air but is now standing a few metres to my left waiting for me to follow her. I stand and subconsciously run a hand through my hair before picking up my case. God, I hope I don't embarrass myself.

I follow the blonde through what I would have assumed was just another window but actually turned out to be a door - which explains her ability to appear seemingly out of thin air. Down a long corridor which is lined on both sides with yet more glass-enclosed offices. Until she finally comes to a stop outside the first room I have seen which actually has a wall, and I sigh with relief.

At least, however I manage to make a twat out of myself in here isn't going to be visible to everyone else in the office, I think to myself as she holds the door open for me and gestures me inside, offering me a small smile as she closes it firmly behind her.

Inside the large room is a huge mahogany desk which seems to take up most of the space, and two large matching bookshelves, the rest of the wall space is absolutely covered in various platinum and gold records, yeah that's not intimidating at all. Behind the large desk, a slightly overweight man with brown hair which is greying at the roots, and dark brown eyes forces himself out of his seat and wanders around to greet me, hand outstretched, ready to shake mine.

"Miss Graham, it's lovely to meet you. I must say it's not every day we have someone recommended to us by Harry Styles. Please take a seat" He says almost all in one breath.

"Thank you, Mr Novak. It was very kind of Harry to contact you, and equally kind of you to agree to see me. Especially on such short notice", I say formally, trying to keep my nerves out of my voice.

"Of course of course" Mr Novak mutters as he retakes his seat and presses a button on a nearby phone "Silvia? Can you get me a Latte sweetheart?" He asks before raising his eyebrows to me, questioningly, "Anything for you, Miss Graham?"

"Water would be lovely please" I reply quietly, not wanting the receptionist to think I am trying to give her orders.

"And water for Miss Graham. Oh and Silvia? If you've got a minute, run next door to the bakery, would you and see if they've got any of those muffins I like?"

I hear a voice on the other end of the intercom confirm that she'll do just that before Novak leans forward on his desk and looks at me. And when I say looks at me... I mean he pointedly directs his glance to the tips of my boots, then allows his eyes to slowly drift up my body, inch by inch, drinking me in.

A slight shudder trickles down my spine, and I struggle to conceal it under his thorough inspection. Once his eyes finally meet mine, he begins to speak again.

"Well it wasn't actually myself that Mr Styles contacted, but a colleague of mine. However, she is out of the country currently, and he indicated that you would only be available today. I understand you're touring with Mr Styles, is that correct? I must admit I had heard someone else was opening for him.." He trailed off

"Erm, well yes, I am touring with him, but, I'm just part of the crew. Mabel is his opening act for the UK leg."

"I see, so you have no real professional experience at all then?" He says with a slight sneer, and I watch in fascination as his whole demeanour seems to change.

I guess he was expecting me to be someone a little further up on the food chain. He leans back in his chair and turns his attention to his computer screen, lazily clicking at the mouse. Not the start I was hoping for.