Amelie - Gracie Abrams

Chapter 2 - Songwriting

Backstage after the concert, the buzz of the crowd still echoed in Gracie's ears. But even as she collapsed into a chair, the adrenaline pumping through her veins was not just from the performance. Her thoughts were consumed by the girl she had spotted in the audience—the one she had playfully named "Amelie."

Gracie sat with her acoustic guitar balanced on her lap, her fingers idly picking at the strings. The sound was soft, delicate, but there was a weight in her chest that felt anything but light. She pulled out her phone and opened her notes app, staring at the title she had typed earlier: Amelie. The name felt both silly and meaningful, a placeholder for a girl whose real name she didn't know but whose presence she couldn't shake.

With a deep breath, Gracie leaned back in her chair, letting the melody she had been playing on the guitar drift through the small room. Her mind whirled with thoughts of the girl's shy smile, her quiet presence in the crowd, how she seemed so unlike the others—grounded, but with a certain vulnerability. There was a mystery to her that made Gracie want to know more.

As the notes turned into a rhythm, Gracie found herself humming softly, words forming in her mind. She scribbled them down quickly, trying to capture the feeling that was taking root inside her.

Gracie paused, letting the lyrics sink in. She wasn't sure yet if they made sense, but they captured what she was feeling—a strange mixture of longing and curiosity. It was ridiculous, really, to feel this way about someone she barely knew. But there was something about that girl—something that had burrowed into her thoughts and refused to leave.

As she strummed the guitar, working out the melody, her best friend and manager, Leah, wandered into the room, her arms full of Gracie's stage clothes. Leah had been with her for years, from the early days when Gracie had only a small following on social media, to now, when she played sold-out shows around the country. Leah knew Gracie better than anyone, which was probably why she immediately noticed the distracted look on her face.

"Hey, you okay?" Leah asked, plopping down on the couch opposite Gracie. She tossed a towel at her, motioning for her to wipe off the last bit of sweat from her performance.

Gracie caught the towel and shrugged, wiping her forehead absentmindedly. "Yeah, I guess. Just... thinking."

Leah raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "Thinking about that girl from the crowd?"

Gracie blinked, surprised. "How did you—?"

"I saw you staring at her during half the set," Leah said with a smirk. "And then you went and called her 'Amelie.' Honestly, it was cute."

Gracie sighed, setting the guitar aside. "I don't know what's wrong with me. She was just... I don't know. Different."

"Different how?"

"She didn't act like everyone else. Most people are so... loud. But she was so quiet. So...shy, I guess. But there was something about her. I couldn't stop thinking about her the whole time." Gracie leaned back in her chair, rubbing her hands over her face. "It's stupid, right? I don't even know her name."

Leah smiled knowingly. "It's not stupid. You had a connection. It happens. What are you gonna do about it?"

Gracie sighed, looking down at the lyrics she had written. "I don't know. I wrote this song. I've been trying to figure out how to get her out of my head, but it's not working."

Leah peeked over at the notebook and grinned. "Amelie? So, we're naming songs after mystery girls now?"

Gracie rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. "Apparently."

"Well, if you can't find her, I guess you'll just have to put your feelings into the music," Leah said, standing up. "But if you ask me, you'll see her again. The universe has a funny way of making these things happen."

Gracie chuckled, though part of her hoped Leah was right. "Yeah. Maybe."

As Leah left the room, Gracie picked up her guitar again, strumming the opening chords to Amelie. The music felt bittersweet, like a longing she couldn't quite shake. Maybe this was all it would ever be—an inspiration for a song and nothing more. But something told her that wasn't the end of it. She had to believe that their paths would cross again.

*

Meanwhile, across town, Evelyn Garcia sat curled up on her bed, staring at the concert ticket she had carefully tucked into the pages of a book. Her heart was still racing, her mind replaying the events of the night over and over. The concert had been more than she could have imagined—Gracie's voice, her presence on stage, the way her music seemed to reach into Evelyn's soul.

But none of that compared to the moment when Gracie had spoken to her directly.

Evelyn's face flushed just thinking about it. She had been so overwhelmed—so caught off guard when Gracie looked right at her and asked her name. She had tried to respond, but her voice had been swallowed up by the noise of the crowd. And then, of course, Gracie had called her "Amelie."

Amelie.

The name had sounded so beautiful coming from Gracie's lips, and Evelyn had barely known how to react. She had nodded, blushing furiously, unsure of how to handle the sudden spotlight. The entire encounter felt surreal, like something out of a dream. But it wasn't a dream. It had really happened. Gracie Abrams had noticed her—her, of all people.

Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was a message from Ivy, her best friend.

Ivy: "So, how was the concert? Did you faint when Gracie talked to you?"

Evelyn rolled her eyes and smiled, typing back quickly.

Evelyn: "I didn't faint, but I almost did."

Ivy: "Tell me EVERYTHING."

Evelyn hesitated for a moment before responding. How could she even begin to describe what had happened? She had gone to the concert just to enjoy the music, to experience one of her favourite artists live. She had never expected anything like this.

Evelyn: "She called me 'Amelie.'"

There was a long pause before Ivy responded again.

Ivy: "Wait. What?"

Evelyn: "She couldn't hear my name, so she just called me Amelie. In front of everyone."

Ivy: "Omg. She's totally into you."

Evelyn: "Stop. She probably didn't think anything of it."

Ivy: "Are you kidding? She noticed you. Gracie Abrams noticed YOU."

Evelyn bit her lip, her mind swirling with possibilities. It all seemed too impossible, too far-fetched. But deep down, there was a part of her that wanted to believe it—that maybe, just maybe, she had left as much of an impression on Gracie as Gracie had left on her.