"walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy."
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y/n's pov:
i'm on my fifty-third attempted rewrite of a chorus when i get a call from my manager, cecilia.
"hello? what's up, cece?"
"haven't gotten very far through that chorus, huh?"
she can probably hear the annoyance in my voice.
"yeah... i don't know what it is, but i can't seem to find anything to write about. i think i've run out of exes."
she laughs and i can almost picture her chewing on her pen on the other side of the line.
"maybe you just need to write about something new. maybe something besides heartbreak... something like..."
"-love?" i guess. not really what i wanted to hear, but pretty much what i expected.
"yes! love! it's the season of love, you know.."
by that she means it's february. my least favorite time of the year. it's valentines day in three days and since i can never seem to make my relationships last until february fourteenth, this is just another year on the growing tally of years without a valentine. i like to release breakup albums on valentines day. it feels like i'm getting some kind of celestial revenge on the universe. it's very satisfying.
"cece, it would be a lot easier to write love songs if i was actually in love with someone."
"find someone to be in love with, y/n. it can't be that hard, you're basically the leonardo dicaprio of your generation."
"that doesn't make it easier."
she huffs through the phone, definitely getting tired of me.
"sorry, i'm just feeling very writer's block-ey right now," i say.
"yeah, i know, hun. been there, done that. you're a bit too young for tinder though, so you gotta put yourself out there some other way."
"i'll consider it."
"ok, well, i need to go check on the strudel i was trying to bake, but consider away, little bird."
she hangs up. she's called me little bird ever since we first met, when a bird flew into my window and promptly died. i tried to do cpr on the dead bird and then cried when it didn't work. i open instagram on my phone, determined to either find a distraction or find inspiration. momona and xochitl are arguing about something in the group chat. messages pop up every three seconds and i'm considering leaving. or muting it. just then a facetime notification from momona, xochitl, and mckenna appears on my screen. i accept the call.
"cece texted ussss," xochitl sings.
my face flushes and i hide it behind my hands.
"that is so not fair! she needs to stop spilling exclusive tea to you guys," i respond, shaking my head.
"girl, what are you talking about. you tell us everything, we would've known even if she hadn't told us," momona says, waving her hands in the air.
mckenna nods, "but! we have a solution!"
"oh gods, you guys never have good solutions," i groan.
"hey! stop lying, we solve all of your problems for free while you do nothing but complain. you're a little bit ungrateful, don't you think?" xochitl giggles, giving me a "just go along with it, everything will be fine" look.
momona makes driving motions with her hands, "we are taking the wheel and also setting you up on a blind date."
"no!" i gasp in shock, "that's horrendous, i'm going to write a diss track about you."
xochitl cackles, "come on he's like definitely your type, just give him a chance."
i sigh, "who even are you setting me up with?"
they all go silent.
"walker scobell!" mckenna exclaims.
"who?" i ask, thoroughly confused. his name sounds familiar...
"you did not just seriously ask us who walker scobell is. you've had a crush on percy jackson since third grade, y/n," momona huffs.
"OH. OHHHHH," i shout, "WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST SAY I WAS GOING ON A DATE WITH PERCY JACKSON?!"
mckenna snorts, "well, we thought you would know... but, we're giving you a chance to live the annabeth kind of life, plus he's a big fan of yours."
"really?" i ask, tucking my knees into my chest.
"yessss, he has all of your limited edition vinyls and those vintage polaroids that were only on sale for three hours for some reason," momona says.
goddamn, this kid must be obsessed.
"did you tell him that he was going on a blind date with me?" i question, raising an eyebrow.
"no? why would we tell him, it's called a blind date not a perfectly-good-vision date," xochitl snorts.
"haha," i fake laugh at her, "so funny."
"hey, i am hilarious, ok. everyone appreciates my humor but you," she retorts.
"i appreciate your humor when it's funny," i respond, sticking my tongue out at her.
"alright ladies, i think that concludes this call. y/n, we'll pick you up tomorrow at five to drop you off at your date with walker, ok?" mckenna says, down to business.
"ok," i tell her, still reluctant.
i blow them all a kiss goodbye, then end the call. i flop back onto the couch in my makeshift studio where i write all my songs. it's really just a garage that we set up sound proofing in. i scroll through walker's instagram. he's really cute. even though he captions his posts like my ninety-one year old grandfather. he really does resonate percy jackson. it's almost like rick shook the book and he fell out. i pocket my phone when the door from the studio to the house stands open and my brother stands in the light, wearing full chef garb, complete with remy sitting on his shoulder. there is flour smeared all over him and i can see his friends giggling in the kitchen behind him.
"what do you want, jj" i sigh, knowing it'll be some ridiculous thing.
"can you please come taste the cookies we made, i promise they are so good, we made them with love," he pleads.
i take a look at the piles of crumpled paper containing faulty song lyrics littering the couch. they form a halo of mistakes around me. i feel nauseous thinking about them. i hold my hand out so jj can come pull me up. he does, but not without managing to get flour everywhere. i make a mental note to blackmail him into cleaning it up later. in the kitchen, i find jj's friends, liam, miller, and charlie, proudly standing around the plate of very charred cookies they made. i reluctantly take a bite. it tastes exactly like i expected it would, though somehow even worse. just then the doorbell rings. they all turn around to see who it is, giving me a chance to spit the cookie into the trash while they aren't looking.
"oh!" charlie exclaims, "that's gotta be dior."
he's right, it is dior. she walks into the house, loops her arms through mine and charlie's and drags us upstairs to my room. she pushes aside my chair, which is stacked high with vinyls and cd's and plops down onto my bed. charlie follows, picking up the copy of beach read i had lying open on my bed. i snatch it out of his hands and tuck it onto a shelf.
"sooooo," dior drawls," heard you're going on a date tomorrow. exiting!"
"wait, what? i was not informed of this development."
"yeah, of course not chuckles, you were too busy trying to feed y/n the equivalent to a second grade science fair project."
"hey, those cookies were made with love," he protests.
"who told you about my date?" i interject, question directed at dior.
"momo, who else?" she responds.
"of course," i deadpan.
she giggles, kicking charlie's arm. he swats her leg away.
"ugh, this is going to be so cute. i can't wait to see the papparazzi photos," she grins.
i sigh and shove my face into a pillow. walker scobell, you are going to be the death of me.
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chapter one and done!!
i'm excited for this story
-1.3k words