Cal Jackson's new life as a rockstar fails to account for one thing: the existence of the girl he loves.
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"What are you thinking about?" she asks.
"A song," I say. "A new song."
I stare at the ocean as I sing the song that I wrote, something th...
AN: Since this is a quick update, please make sure that you've read Chapter 38 ( Run to You ) and Chapter 39 (The Day)
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Two years later
"One cappuccino, please."
I jot down the order from the customer, then walk toward the counter to tell the barista.
I huff, leaning back against the counter and watching as people settle at their tables inside the restaurant. Especially on Sunday afternoon like this, the restaurant is always packed with people having lunch together with their family and friends. Located in the heart of New York, this restaurant has gotten more popular recently, thanks to the good reviews our customers shared on the internet.
I can't be more grateful that I've been accepted to work part-time here as a waitress. They pay a good amount of money so that I can top up my loan to continue my study.
After the barista places the prepared Cappucino onto the tray, I bring it to the table. While I'm placing the drink, the sound from the TV startles me that I spill a drop of its content.
"What's up, Torontooooo?" That familiar voice echoes in my ears, followed by the sound of some female customers' gasps and giggles, their eyes glued to the TV.
I shift my gaze to it and find that it's airing a concert in Canada that was held last month. I quickly return my attention to the customer whose drink I almost spilled a few seconds ago.
"I'm sorry. Here's your drink," I apologize, but she's not paying any attention, still focusing on the TV.
"Oh my God, don't you agree that Cal Jackson is the hottest man on earth? Look at that," she mumbles to her friend sitting next to her. "And his voice is so sexy. Damn, I would kill to have him sing for me every night before bed."
Her friend nods, slurping her iced tea as she watches Cal singing on the stage. His amazing voice echoes through the speaker, and I feel the pain in my heart. Again.
"Look. He's going to take off his clothes," the girl suddenly exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Her friend, on the other hand, just squints at the TV, watching as Cal points the mic toward thousands of his fans in Toronto. Laughter escapes from Cal's mouth as they sing along, and again, I feel it. The sting in my heart.
"Nah, he's not gonna do it."
"He's gonna do it this time," the girl beside me insists, but then she knocks her fist onto the table because it doesn't happen.
"See?" Her friend laughs.
"Crap. Why does he never take off his clothes on the stage? I want to see his abs."
