Copyright ✘ One Direction [EDITING]

T W E N T Y - T W O

"Okay, Ms. Riley, here's the deal." Walter, the middle aged man with slightly graying hair and a tight smile grinned at me and gestured to the stack of papers in front of him. "This here is a six month contract to start you off. During these six months, you have a quota of at least eight songs that you are required to write and that must be released by the Artist in order to be counted. After your eight, you may continue as you please and get a set bonus. You also make a fixed amount in royalties per copy of the song sold. Understand?"

I raised an eyebrow, tapping my fingers against the table. "Uh, yeah I think so." I eyed the contract warily. "This is just for six months, right? And if I don't like it, I can back out?"

Walter nodded. "Of course! Although I highly doubt you would leave us, you may if it is what you desire, after the six months. However, we have the ability to terminate your contract if the circumstance permits so."

I hummed, "Okay." My eyes trailed over the words. "Who do I write for?"

"Usually we start our new people off small, like for example they'd just write a song and we'd attempt to sell it to one of our clients. But sometimes we get these special requests and you have to write a specific kind of song for a specific client."

I picked up the pen and pressed it to the paper, signing my name in large bold letters. I flipped the page and signed the other one also. When I was finally satisfied, I put the pen down and pushed the contract away from me.

"Great!" Walter sat up and picked up the papers. "If you'd just follow me, I'll take you to Sandra who'll show you what to do next."

I nodded in agreement. I stood up and followed Walter out of the large conference room and down the hallway. My heart was racing for some reason and I clenched and unclenched my fists in an attempt to calm down. I'd gotten a day off from work for this and I couldn't believe that I'd finally done it; I'd achieved my dream somehow. I was finally a professional songwriter and God, it felt so good to be accomplished.

Walter opened the door to a large room with wide glass windows and a minimalistic color scheme. He nodded towards an empty seat across from a young woman with her hair pulled back in a tight bun sitting at a desk.

I took a seat and listened as Walter exited. The woman peered closely at me with her head cocked to the side.

"You seem a little young," she mused.

I bit my lip. "I'm, uh, nineteen."

"Still young." She chirped and began tapping at her keyboard. "It's surprising, actually. The youngest person we had working for us before was twenty-four. You must be a reference." She looked up. "Carter, is it? I'm Sandra."

"Pleasure to meet you." I leaned forward and folded my hands on my lap.

The sound of something printing filled my ears. Before long, a sheet of paper was thrust hurriedly into my hands. "In my computer it looks like someone filed a request. Here's all their contact information. I'll be assisting you from now on so normally I'll handle all the talking but this is just in case. We've scheduled a session for you and the client tomorrow afternoon. Good?"

I nodded quickly. "Yeah, perfect. Thanks Sandra. Who is the client, by the way?"

Sandra didn't look up from the computer. "Sony Entertainment...One Direction. It says here you've written for them before. Midnight Memories, was it? I'll have to have a listen. I like to be well acquainted and familiar with the people I work for, for future references. Was it fun?"

I was stunned. It was as if my mind blanked for a moment and then suddenly came back full force, because first of all I would be working with the boys again and second I'd finally gotten my full credit for Midnight Memories.

I blinked. "Uhh, yeah. Pretty fun."

"Great." Sandra waved her hands. "It'll be a blast then, you're familiar with them. Now go. Be there tomorrow, I'll shoot you a text to remind you."

.

.

.

The next day was nerve wracking. After classes I found myself about to have a nervous breakdown in my car. Usually I wouldn't have anxiety this bad but I couldn't tell if I was looking forward to working with the boys again or absolutely dreading it.

Maybe it was just Liam I didn't want to see. Yeah, that was probably it. I never really had a problem with the other boys, in fact that did nothing to hurt me and I felt comfortable around them. Not enough to still text or call them but, you get what I mean.

I turned on the radio and the relaxing sound of Sam Smith calmed me down. Somehow the thought that I could maybe write a song for Sam Smith made me happy and I pulled up the Syco studios much more calmed then I'd been half an hour ago.

A wave of nostalgia hit me as I walked inside; the last time I'd been here I'd been deeply hurt and the other times were meant to be happy. I vowed to myself that I'd make better memories for the place. Celine took one look at me and waved me towards the direction of the studio I'd always been in several times before.

I made it to the door of the room without tripping and falling on my face or embarrassing myself in anyway. I'd memorized the path there and it felt good to finally be back, for some strange reason.

I lifted my hand and rapped my knuckles against the door. This was it.

.

.

.

A/N i really apologize for the shortness of this chapter! just wanted to give you guys something lol sorry for the cliffhanger. please vote or comment if you feel up to it x