Songwriter // Michael Clifford //

Chapter 7: Slept In

Kara POV:

Iv'e been in LA for four days now, and my schedule has consisted of one job interview and one studio tour. BUT SOON ALL THAT WILL CHANGE. Tomorrow I get to meet the artist I will be working with all summer. Well, one of the arists depending on how good I am. I've been writing since I got here and I have a couple notebooks filled with little ideas and short poems that might work as a chorus. I am beyond excited that I'm finally going to see who I'm working with. So excited in fact that I can't sleep. I am up all night not being able to do anything productive because I have a bad case of the butterflies. Around 1 am, I drift off to sleep.

Too bad the meeting starts at 6.

Too bad my alarm didn't wake me up until 5:56.

The moment my brain registers the time I leap out of bed and yank off my pajama's. I throw on the first things I grab without looking and when I realize I picked up two shirts, I am thankful I just slept in sweatpants. I throw my hair up on top of my head, not in a cute "messy up-do" kind of way, in the "jab as many clips as you can in the ball of hair scrunched on top of your head so that it stays there" kind of way. My signature look.

I shove a doughnut from last night's midnight snack (oops) in my mouth, grab my notebooks and run downstairs to call a cab.

Thankfully I get to the studio at 6:10 and no one fires me when I walk into the room. "Sorry," I mumble, "I slept in." I flop down onto a cushioned chair and rub my eyes, realizing yesterdays make-up is smeared across my face. Suddenly I remember that I'm meeting the artist I'm going to work with today, and I wake up a little bit. In fact I am now able to register that I am in a room with Mr. Johnson (to whom my mom talked to on the phone,) and a couple other people. Four other people are in that room, of whom I happen to recognize without looking up from their feet. Of course I do look up, and they all look confused, but as if they are suppressing laughter.

I take a deep breath and try not to scream at my stupidity. I try to smile a little, but we all know this is far too awkward to ignore. I turn to Mr. Johnson, not wanting to get excited just to be let down. "Um, is this who I will be writing with?" He nods his head, and he too looks like he's trying not to laugh. I smile, and the embarrassment is quickly replaced by joy. "Hi, we're 5 Seconds of Summer, and I'm Ashton."

"Im Luke."

"Calum."

"I'm Michael."

"I know." I breath. "You could say I'm a fan." They all smile at this, Michael's the biggest.

"Oh! What's your favorite song?" Ashton asks me.

"Ummm, it changes all the time, but right now the acoustic version of Long Way Home." I answer, nodding my head. I can't wait to start writing with them.

"This is great! Since your a fan you'll know what our fans will like as well." Luke points out, and the other boys nod. My palms are a little sweaty, and I'm at a loss for words. What does one say when they meet the four people they love most in the world for the first time?

"So, when do you think our first writing session will be?" I ask, turning to Mr Johnson.

He grins, "I believe that, according to your schedule, it's tomorrow afternoon." I am thrown off a little but I did come to LA prepared so I shrug a little, and say "Sure."

"Hey!" Michael says, "We never got your name." I laugh, I guess I didn't think to tell them.

"I'm Kara." I breath. It's weird to think that they will remember my name, and will remember me among all of their fans. It's weird to think that they will be saying my name, and that they will picture my face when they hear it.

"So Kara," Calum says, "do you write songs alot?" I shudder a little when he says my name, and nod my head in response.

"What's your favorite line, overall? I mean, that you've written." Michael asks, stuttering a little.

"Well, I uh, I dont really have a favorite, but the other day I came up with a line that I liked." I trail off, and they all encourage me to tell them. "Okay," I sigh, "its part of a song I wrote, but it doesn't really have a tune yet." I didn't realize how hard it would be to share my work with them. I flipped through my notebook until I found the page I was looking for.

"I'm sorry,

I'm sorry I wasn;t strong enough for you.

I'm sorry

I'm sorry I did all that one person could do.

I hope you find someone new,

Someone better,

Who can fix you."

I shut the book and look up awkwardly, they don't look completely disgusted, which is good.

"You said this was part of a song you wrote?" Ashton asks, and I nod my head hesitantly. "Well then, we better see the rest of it." He laughs, and a wave of relief passes through me. They liked it.

For the next hour the boys and I chat about my notebooks and stuff. Then Michael hands me back my notebook and gives me a funny look. "What's your favorite band?" He asks. I ponder my answer for a little while, because this is an extremely important question.

I take a deep breath. "Um, I have quite a few, but my favorites are Panic! At The Disco, All Time Low, Greenday, My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, and... you guys I guess." I left out a bunch, but I didn't want to have a list that was too long. I study the boys faces, and see that they share a look of approval.

"So, is there anything else we need to talk about?" Calum asks. Sadness overwhelms me, I don't want them to leave.

"Yes!" Michael shouts. Everyone turns to stare at him. "I mean, shouldn't we get to know each other more? Because, like, we are going to be spending a lot of time together and it would be nice if we were.. ya know... friends?" The boys nod as if this is the most normal thing in the world, but I am internally screaming my ass off. Literally since I was 16 all I'd ever wanted to be friends with these 4 losers.

"Yeah," I say, praying my voice isn't shaking. "Sounds good to me, but how?" I really do want to get to know them, but not in an awkward forced way.

"I have an idea." Says Ashton, smirking. "Let's play a game."