Sixteen - Theo

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She looked bewildered looking around at all the history behind the award. There was a few very specific reasons I wanted her to see this tonight explicitly. And God did it take some strings to get her in too.

The first was to show her the stories of the hundreds of other winners around the world. Her name now sat with mine in a long list of the best in their field, dating back decades. That was the risky thing about this. That she'd see names like Elvis, Michael Jackson, Beyoncé and start to compare herself to them. Truth was this wasn't something you could compare to. She won 4 awards on Saturday night. 4 of the biggest awards in the industry and she was one of the youngest in history to do that. Against people who'd been doing this longer than her.

It was groundbreaking and this constant imposter syndrome she had was going to kill her eventually if she didn't beat it now. I very nearly quit music after my first win for the same thing. I didn't feel like I belonged here but I did and I do and she does. I'd hate for her to lose something she's so damn good at. It's like this whole thing was an early intervention thing.

The second reason was for her to see, blatantly, that she'd made it. Whatever 'it' was, to her. She was there. She didn't need to keep working as hard to the point of killing herself. People knew who she was, she didn't have to prove that she could hold her own now. She'd proven it. She'd hit it. This win wasn't something that just went away. It was hers. Hers for the hard work, for the sleepless nights.

The first is always the hardest. Once you win the first, people don't look as hard into what you're doing on the day to day. It's not as much of a shock either. Win it once and it puts you on another level, sure but that level seems so much easier to reach when you're on the other side. People want to work with you, they want your name on the paper, any kind of input in any way it comes. Just having your name on it means they have a chance.

She gripped onto her elbows gently, staring in awe like I had the first time I was in here. Wonderstruck. Like you're in a hall of your biggest heroes.

"Amazing right?" She snapped her head back to me, tucking her hair behind her ears before moving back to Elvis' famous suit. "He was just doing what we do. Having the time of his life and now he's a literal music legend."

"It's mind blowing. I have more Grammy's than Elvis fucking Presley." I chuckled.

"You do." She turned around slowly, tilting her head at me. "What?"

"Why'd you bring me here?"

"I thought-"

"No. All of today, what's it all about? It's like you're trying to convince me that I'm in the right job or something."

"That's not it."

"Then what is? Because I don't understand what's going on."

"Morgan-"

"Theo. This whole thing is starting to make me feel like you're leading up to asking me out."

"I'm not. I swear Morgan. That's not at all what this is about." Her tense shoulders relaxed a few inches. "We're friends. You made that very clear. I'm not about to break your boundaries. We've built a solid friendship and I have no intention of ruining it over something stupid."

"Then why?"

"Because you, trouble, are terrified you're not good enough. Come on." I held my hand out, waiting for her to take my hand. She'd done it before. I know she would again if I waited long enough. She looked down at my hand, thinking deeply. Intently. "I'm not lying Morgan. I swear. I have one more thing here to show you." Her blue eyes came back up to mine and I managed to give her a soft smile. "Have I gone wrong at all today?"

"No."

"One last time. If I do on this then you write a song on my next album completely alone and I'll put it on there no matter how crap it is. Want to call Veronica a slag? Go for it." A smile. Small. Frail. But a smile none the less. "Come on, Marie will want to go home at some point." Her tiny hand went into mine and I could feel myself relax, tugging her towards the final exhibition. "Okay close your eyes."

"I am not-"

"CLOSE your eyes." She rolled them and I glared at her until they shut. "Thank you. Open them and I get to write a song for your next album and I'm going to tell the world you hate pasta."

"You liar." She gasped, humour evident in her voice. I looked around at her exhibit, it looking better than I'd imagined. They do this for the new comer of the year. A little background on the new edition to the world. A video compilation of her videos from YouTube, to behind the scenes tour footage, to footage of her, Ava and Noah living their lives. "You're quiet."

"Just having my own mind blown. Gimme a sec." I took my hands out of hers, pulling her into the middle of the room and stepping back with my camera set to record. "Okay, open."

Morgan hesitated, seeming to take a slow breath before she did. She stared. Not moving but I could see the slight shake behind her hands as she wriggled her fingers, clenching her fists and looking over at me. I nodded and she smiled, quickly running her hands through her hair and turning back with the smallest laugh.

"What the fuck?" I laughed at her, switching off the camera as she started looking around. "This isn't real."

"They do it for every newcomer of the year. I made a few calls yesterday and they said it'd be finished today. You needed to see it before anyone else and I knew you'd be gutted if you went home and hadn't seen it. Ava knew I was bringing you here but not about this."

"Ava knew?" I nodded. "God I'm going to kill her." She peered through the glass. Outfits from her tours, pictures of fans and about a million other things.

"Still feel like you shouldn't be here?" She shook her head quickly. "Good. Take pictures. Don't forget it." 

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