The sun had begun to sink even lower in the sky, the last little bits of light that had once streamed through the window were now fading quickly.
Dark shadows appeared on the interior walls of the studio, cascading over the hunched musician in the corner.Y/n had rented a house with a studio, near the ocean, to work on some new tracks outside of her home, a rare occurrence for the typical homebody. She'd gone to escape for awhile, promising Camila that she'd take care of herself and that she would be home by the end of the week.
The trial against Isabella would begin in six months, an ever present thought on the producer's mind ever since she'd spoken with her lawyer a little over two months ago.
Camila had tried talking with her about it, but Y/n had brushed her off.
Y/n knew that she was once again stuffing her pain back into the locked chest within her heart, but she most certainly was not ready to meet her ex face to face in front of a courthouse.She was also not looking forward to going into the intimate details of their two year relationship in front of her current girlfriend and a jury.
Y/n had told Camila a lot of what had happened, but her lawyer warned that she would also have to talk about the good memories; no matter how few and far between they had been.
The producer jotted down phrase after phrase, before reading it and angrily balling up the pieces of paper; throwing them onto the growing pile near the trash can.
For the first time since her return to the spotlight, she'd been hit with a wall; blocked by her own mental state and somehow unable to let out her feelings.
It was exasperating.
Y/n threw her pen against the foamed covered wall, slamming her notebook shut with a frustrated groan. Everything she wrote didn't sound good enough; every instrumental sounding like it was lacking.
The musician had told the one other producer she'd let come with her that week to go home. In all honesty, she felt her frustrations growing and didn't necessarily want anyone on the receiving end of her anger. She would only stay a little longer and write more, because they had needed at least five tracks. But they'd only managed to pen four.
Y/n was shaken out of her thoughts when her phone began buzzing on the piano bench next to her, Camila's contact popping up on the screen.
The artist took a deep breath, trying to dissipate any residual irritation and answered, "Hello?"
"Hey baby, I know you're working and I didn't want to bother you, but the realtor called me a few minutes ago. We got the house!"
Camila's excitement was obvious through the phone, and Y/n cracked a smile at the adorable thought of the brunette hopping up and down.
Her own heart filled with joy at the unexpected good news and she stood up, the piano bench pushing back with a loud squeak.
"Wow, baby! That's amazing! Did she say when we can move in?"
"The house is already cleared out and I can have the moving company come pack up our stuff this coming week."
Y/n grinned, cradling the phone between her shoulder and cheek, "I'm so happy you called me about this. To be honest with you today hasn't been a great day."
"What happened?" Camila's voice sounded concerned and the producer's heart sank a little knowing that she'd obviously worried her girlfriend.
"Oh, I'm okay! There's no need to worry or anything. I've just hit a writer's block, that's all." Y/n tried to sound nonchalant, ignoring the fact that before Camila had called, she'd been ready to fling her notebook and pen into the ocean below.
YOU ARE READING
The Beautiful Musician (Camila/you)
FanfictionYou're a successful producer and singer who's been on a break for the past four months, travelling. As your music has gained immense traction, you find yourself among some of Hollywood's greatest celebrities at an after party that you didn't necessa...