A/N: plEASE READ THE LYRICS AND IF POSSIBLE LISTEN TO THE SONG ABOVE/ON THE SIDE WHEN READING. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ THE LYRICS OR YOU WILL BE CONFUSED LATER ON.
p.s 3043 words(:
Grace, Eight P.M -
"I don't know if I should thank you for grabbing me and pulling me out, or if I should hurt you." I said rubbing my shoulder; I could feel the bruise setting in from hitting the ground with the chair. My clothing was yet again soaked from running to the car from the press conference. The rain was starting to let up, only a heavy drizzle hitting the car windows.
"I saved you from that room; we all know how that would end up Grace." Jacob murmured against my hair. I was pressed into his side sitting in the middle seat of the car. I nodded agreeing with him, I didn't know what everyone was going to do when the lights turned back on and I was missing. It was about eight at night, I would get back to my tour bus in about thirty minutes. The drive wasn't that long; except this would be one of the last times I was ever going to be in the tour bus. My tour had ended; it was a year and three months long. It started in the U.K. and ended in France, odd, but that's how it was.
My last show was a week ago. It was a thrill the tour, it took up a bunch of time but it wasn't something I'd give up for the world. It made getting to skating practice tricky, but that had ended in March and was only just starting back up in a month or so. Skating was also something I'd never give up, occasionally when I had the free time I'd go to a rink and just skate. Call it cheesy but when I skated, I forgot I was famous. It was just so easy so get lost in the music that played through my ear buds while my skates cut against the ice creating their own delicate path. Sometimes I wondered what would happen if I made skating my career, not singing.
I shook the thought off as I arrived at the stop. My bulky tour bus was standing there and looking like a garden-knom was my Chevy Camaro. The sleek black and red paint job was my favorite part of it all, it blended in against the dawn sky, a faint outline was had the ability to be made out though. We rolled up in the rental car, my thoughts somewhere else. I was going to the studio next to record some songs; in the next two months I was going to release my new album. These were the last tracks I had to record and I planned on powering through the four songs. I had recorded majority of Don't Let Me Go, but I needed to rerecord the ending and the bridge to the verse. Nightingale was still in the works of being written, the verse, beginning, and the ending just needed a lot of reworking. Nightingale was going to be tricky from the huge notes in it. This album I am very proud of the songs were a lot closer to my heart.
I realized that everyone was getting out of the rental car while I was just sitting there. I sighed, pushed myself out of the passenger side seat and darted my way to the bus in the rain. Over the thudding rain hitting the pavement, I shouted to Anderana; "Can you drive my car to the studio? I want to drive it back." It probably wasn't the best idea for anyone in the right state of mind to let me drive back in the wee early morning hours, especially when the rain looked like it wasn't going to be letting up anytime soon. The road underneath the bus was slick making very dangerous driving conditions. It was going to be hard to convince Anderana to let her drive the car back. It was hard to imagine that I had another forty five minute drive to the studio; the rides always seem to go quick. Maybe it was because I wanted to soak in that this was my last time in this bus, with these people, and the last time I would be on tour for a while.
I shut my eyes and let my head gently rest up against the window of the bus; I didn't want to finish off my second album just yet. It was the beginning of June, in two weeks it would be the 20th. Then it would be July, when I would release my second album, and then it was August. This year it would mark the second year of being adopted by One Direction. It was surreal knowing that I've spent eleven months, almost an entire year, being in this stupid war with them. It was aggravating beyond relief. It shouldn't be this stupid, it shouldn't have been for this long, and it surly should have ended when the other apologized. I didn't know how they even felt about it anymore, I've apologized multiple times, and knowing that they didn't even try to dial my phone number hurt more than it should.
I arrived at the studio, only to remember that I had to walk through the rain, again. It was only water, but when you already looked like a drowned cat, it wasn't very enjoyable. That's when I remembered that I was on the tour bus, with all of my clothes and with warm and dry towels. I casually picked out some grey leggings and a nice floral shirt, nothing too fancy, nothing I wouldn't be embarrassed about being photographed in. I took my sopping wet hair that was creating darker spots on my shirt, and began roughly sliding a towel through it. It obviously didn't look the best but that didn't really matter. After it was somewhat drier, I braided it back in a normal braid. It was lose and sloppy but I didn't really care, this wasn't fashion week.
I saw the door to the building and judged the distance, if I wore my Toms I would slide and skid from the very minimal traction on the bottom. If I wore my Nikes, I could easily run in but they would soak up as much water as possible, and if I wore my Vans I would have traction and somewhat water soaking up. That wasn't correct grammar a voice told me in my head. Shut up, I said back to myself. With the tutor on the bus I've discovered that I've taken a large liking to science and history. Very odd, but it was true. I was still majorly more interested in music and photography though.
Sighing, I slipped on the Vans and grabbed and umbrella. I opened the door and cautiously stuck out the umbrella, immediately rain splashed up against my savior to getting soaked. I pushed the lock button down and slid the object up and as soon as you could say ketchup is back, the umbrella was opened up. I brought it over my head and began to walk to the doors; the rain was about an inch deep on the ground, immediately the shoes were drenched. I looked down somewhat disgusted but not enough to care.
The walk from the bus was short, but long enough to give you a good chill to raise Goosebumps on your arms. I finally reached the doors, one that I once smacked Louis in the face with. I giggled at the memory, but then I was sad again because I realized that nothing was going to be that simple again. It was all so condensed now; it just felt like a giant wall, a concrete wall, was built between us. You couldn't go around it or go over it, every second it was getting higher, longer, and thicker. It was needless to say very annoying and very difficult to control. Some days the wall would be thinner, others it was lower, but it never go shorter.
I sighed again and opened the door to the physical studio, but not the recording booth. I had the songs to work on in a binder that was underneath my arm, the only one I didn't have was Nightingale because I was working with a songwriter, Ed Sheeran actually who was helping me write it. He and I haven't had much physical interaction, but he wasn't one who saw the outside of everyone like majority of people. He saw deeper than the layers of skin, he could identify what was going on just by looking at someone's eyes. That's what I liked about him, and, he was one of the male artists out there who didn't just only sing about banging girls and getting high.
I didn't really hear what the producer said aside from getting out of it that Nightingale was finished. Also, All Too Well was done. This entire recording session was going to be filled with deep and meaningful songs with huge notes. I wasn't afraid to belt them out. I've been compared to Demi Lovato, Christina Aguilera, also, somehow in the same category as Lana Del Ray, all being an amazing honor. A hand suddenly came down on my shoulder; I could feel my heart skip a beat as the hand skimmed from my shoulder to my waistline, it almost tickled. I immediately knew it was Jacob from his woodsy smell, I could sense him smirk as he knew he scared me once again.
"Hi babe, jumpy today isn't we?" He murmured, his voice bringing my heart rate speeding back up. He didn't even know the effect he had on me, which was a good thing because he would use that to his advantage. I sighed and fell back into his chest, I didn't know why I felt so off today, but it felt like ever since I got to the studio that I was going to throw up. It felt as if I wasn't going to see any of this again, which was stupid because I wasn't. Tonight was the night that I was finishing up my album and then starting the promotion for it. It was all quite stupid anyway, I wanted to release the album and just release it. Not do any promotion parties or signings, or even a release party. But no, Beyoncé had to do it just this past winter so I couldn't do that without, of course, looking like I was copying the 'queen'.
Releasing that I hadn't even answered Jacob yet who was now staring at me, I smiled at him shyly.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine I just feel really odd. Probably from what happened at the press conference, or maybe I ate something, who knows?" I rambled on.
"Grace! Recording time, time to get this bloody album finished once and for all." The producer, I really should learn his name but I'm only going to see him maybe twice after I finish this album, there isn't really a reason to. It was sad, but it was the truth, and sometimes the truth isn't always what we want to hear.
"Alright, I'm coming!" I shouted back to him, I was about five feet away so I had no real idea why we were shouting. I sadly smiled at Jacob who just sighed and looked down at the floor, things between him and I haven't been the best. It doesn't surprise me, he wants to go home, and I want to live in the USA, I keep telling him since that he's American, and that he has an American accent that he should revisit and I can be the odd one out again. That ends in the same argument, always, me in tears, and a door slamming. Sometimes I felt like I lived in a fan fiction, some more than others.
After, I had that thought I realized that all my relationships with my friends and boyfriend are coming to a stand-still. Jessica and Heather had to go back to the UK for a television opportunity came up, and Adam's father had this major heart problem and things didn't look so bright for him. And now Jacob and I were on the verge of breaking up. I was alone, almost, again. I lifted Jacob's chin with my forefinger and sent him a smile.
"Hey, I know things haven't been the best between us lately, but how bout we just drive home together tonight after I get done recording? I think I saw a twenty four hour Starbucks on the way here." He smiled brighter then I have seen him in a while, his chapped lips pressed against mine and my arms fell around his neck just like old times. A cough broke us up, and then I remembered that I had a job to do. I pulled away and opened my eyes to already find his opened. I awkwardly smiled and then pulled away from his warm embrace and went into the cold studio. The door slammed behind me, I always forget how heavy these doors are and how they always slam shut unless you brace their fall. I flipped open the binder to find the start of Come Back... Be Here. I put on the huge fluffed earphones the type that go over your head, it started off with a guitar strumming and then the vocals came in.
"You said it in a simple way,
Four a.m. the second day,
How strange I don't know you at all,
Stumbled through the long goodbye,
One last kiss then catch your flight
right when I was just about to fall,
I told myself don't get attached but in my mind playing back spinning faster than the plane that took you."
It wasn't a secret who this was about; it was about them of course. Jacob suggested adding the 'one last kiss' part to throw some people off, but everyone really knew what was going on. Then I remembered that I had to sing the chorus, or the verse, I'm not really sure.
"This is when the feeling sinks in,
I don't wanna miss you like this,
Come back... be here... come back be here,
I guess you're in New York today,
I don't wanna need you this way,
Come back... be here...
Come back... be here..."
[...]
"The delicate kiss, beginning rush, the feeling you came off so much, without knowing anything at all,
And now that I can put this down,
If I had known what I known now I never would have played so nonchalant,
Taxi, cabs, and busy streets that never you bring you back to me,
I can't help but wish you took me with you."
"This is when the feeling sinks in,
I don't wanna miss you like this,
Come back... be here... come back be here,
I guess you're in London today,
I don't wanna need you this way,
Come back... be here...
Come back... be here..."
[...]
"This falling in love in the cruelest way,
This is falling for you when you are worlds away,
In New York be here,
But you're in London and I break down 'cause it's not fair that you're not around,
This is when the feeling sinks in I don't wanna miss you like this,
Come back be here, come back, be here."
"I guess you're in New York today,
And I don't wanna need you this way,
Come back be here, come back, be here."
[...]
"I don't wanna miss you like this,
Come back, be here,
Come back be here."
I finished the song, in one sitting, usually that's what we did and then the recorder person broke it up into the sections, he said it was easier to edit that way and so you don't have awkward choppy bits. It made somewhat of a sense, but personally, I wasn't sure. Personally I really liked Come Back... Be Here... it really held a symbolic meaning for me, as just reading the lyrics you can tell. This song didn't have many huge notes in it, which was a plus for starting off. Usually I did the less complicated songs first and did bigger notes second, many artists frowned upon this method, but it was the method that worked for me.
I realized that I had shut my eyes, something that I normally did when I sang. I opened them to find a smiling Jacob and a record producer smiling his little chubby cheeks off. I heard him say into the microphone, "Grace, that was one of your best songs yet." It made me smile even bigger and also, at the ground. I shyly grabbed the water bottle that was next to me and unscrewed the cap before guzzling it down. The water slid down my throat, it wasn't sore yet but after Nightingale it was going to feel like it was on fire.
"Alright, Grace, let's move on to All Too Well, and then we'll do Don't Let Me Go, and then you'll have a thirty minute break, and then we will finish of Nightingale, sound good? We'll get off around two thirty in the morning, sound good?"
"Yeah sounds great!" I said finding myself lying like majority of the words that come out of my mouth now.
******
okay yes, there will be a part two to this chapter, and if any of the lyrics are wrong PLEASE correct me, i wrote them by hand by listening to the song. I couldn't update this earlier like i wanted too, i was on a twelve day trip and i got back like two-three days ago and i was just completly pooped from that. I'm so so so sorry for the lack of updates on this book. It hasn't hit me though that it has almost taken me two years to finish one book. That is completly unacceptable and i'm so sorry for that and i don't have anyone else to blame but myself.
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