Just One Yesterday - Patrick Stump

Chapter 3

It's been about a week since Pete signed me to his label and I agreed to collaborate with them. After that afternoon in the car with Patrick I dropped him off at his place after we exchanged numbers. He sent me some samples of the song I'm going to feature on, probably expecting me to start writing my verse, but I haven't done anything with it. I will listen to the song and feel so empowered and inspired but when I get a notebook all of my ideas fly out of my brain. I just feel too much pressure and I'm not sure how to deal with it.

I invited Melissa over to hang with me tonight. She's always been really good about listening to my problems and giving me advice, but I'm scared to tell her. This has been our dream and for her to hear about how badly it's stressing me out would devastate her.

Sitting on my couch, I hear my door unlock and open. I look over to see Melissa opening the door, her blonde curls blowing from the leftover autumn wind that snuck into my house. Her eyes are bright and her lips are smiling until she gets a closer look at me.

I'm a mess. I've been so stressed over this song that I've forgot to take care of myself. My unwashed hair is in a messy bun and my cheeks are probably pink and tear stained. Melissa instantly turns into mom mode and rushes to my side, pulling me into a hug.

"What's wrong?" She asks quietly. 

"I want to talk to you as my friend, not my manager," I say, deciding to finally air out all of my problems. She nods, waiting for me to continue. "This song is just stressing me out. I'll listen to the samples Patrick sent me and I'll feel so empowered and inspired but as soon as I pick up a notebook to start writing I just start freaking out. All of this pressure has been put on me to tie the rest of their comeback album together and I'm just not good enough,"

"Sam," Melissa says in a comforting voice. She pulls away from the hug and holds me by my shoulders. "They saw something in you that made them want you in this album,"

"That's what Patrick told me but I just can't believe it. Like these guys have been in the business since 2003. They know what they're doing. Me on the other hand? I've written one album! That received mixed reviews!"

"Hey, let's calm down," Melissa says, grabbing her backpack that I didn't even notice she brought in. She reaches into it and pulls out her pencil case filled with weed and other paraphernalia. I start laughing. The thought of my super organized and driven manager just rolling a joint for me.

"I can't believe you," I say, grabbing the tightly rolled joint from her.

I take it in my mouth and light it, breathing in the harsh smoke. I feel it swirl around in my lungs as I lay back and close my eyes, blowing the pungent smoke out of my mouth. I hand it back to Melissa to take a hit. She holds it between her thumb and index finger, bringing it to her plump pink lips. She takes a hit and grabs the joint again. She breaths in through her teeth to make sure that the smoke is actually reaching her lungs before she blows it out. I take the joint back and take another hit. While we pass the blunt back and forth I decide to turn on some T.V to get my mind off of writing music for a while. I turn on The Office, a show which Melissa and I frequently watch when we're high.

After finishing the joint and taking a few hits from her bowl, we're leaning against each other, my head on her shoulder and her head on top of mine. My eyes feel like there's a weight pulling on my top eyelashes and my mouth is super dry. All of a sudden a harsh ringing enters my ears. I look at my phone which lays on the coffee table, the name Patrick scrawled across it. 

"Shit," I curse, picking it up. "Hello?" 

"Hey Sam! What's up?" He asks.

"I'm just chilling with Melissa, what about you?" I ask, leaning back against the couch.