Bad Intentions

one.

Monday

I plopped down on my sofa, running my fingers through my hair and sighing deeply. I felt so pressured into writing this song for this artist, I wanted to give it my all. My mind was running, telling myself I suck and I can't do it. Everything was frustrating me, so I decided to leave the studio.

Seconds later, my manager barged into my hotel room. "What the hell are you doing?" He cursed, his arms flung out. "Get back in the studio now." He ordered.

I sat up, and stared at him for a few seconds. "No." I said bluntly, slouching back down into the sofa.

He took of his cap, and scratched his head. "I don't know what you're doing, but whatever mood you're in, you need to get out of it." He said, pacing back in forth in front of me.

"Do you see this?" He said, pointing around the suite I was in."This, all of this, I got you into this, because I had hope in you." He paused, placing his hands on his hips. "And you know what you did? You failed me once again Jauregui."

I furrowed my brows and stood up from the couch. "What the fuck are you talking about? I failed you? That's bullshit!" I cursed.

"It isn't bullshit because it's true!"

"Fuck that." I spat, waving my hand dismissively. "You don't understand how much pressure I am under." I said softly.

"You're under pressure?" He chuckled. "I'm under pressure. The label keeps bugging me, getting you to write this song, they want it now, Lauren, is that not getting through your head?"

"Is it not getting through your head, that I can't write the song while under pressure?" I shot back.

"No one is pressuring you!" He yelled.

"Lauren, have you written the song? How about that song Lauren? Is it finished? You have that song done yet? Are those not the exact words that came out of your mouth or am I being misunderstood?" I mimicked him, placing my hands on my hips and tilting my head.

He didn't respond to me for a while. There was a silence between us, and I noticed he was trying to gather up his words.

"Why don't you just have Tori to help you?" He suggested.

I shook my head. "No!" I said sternly.

He knew me and Tori hadn't been on the best of terms after our break up. We had always written together, and she helped me a lot, but she isn't a reason why I can't write this song.

"Lauren, that was months ago, move on, write the song with her." He stated, sighing frustratedly at me. "Or at least with on of the writers in the studio, the artist will be here in thirty minutes and if we don't have a song written by then, we're screwed."

"We're? Don't you mean you?"

"You too Jauregui, just get your ass back to the studio." He cursed, turning on his heels before exiting.

I rolled my eyes, watching as the hotel door slammed shut. As soon as he left, I turned on my heels and headed towards the balcony. On the small table in the corner, I still had the packet of cigarettes from last night and I picked them up and put one of them in my mouth and lit it.

The view of Los Angeles looked amazing where I was at, I just wanted to stay here. I didn't feel like going back to the studio, I just wanted to have time for myself. Going back to the studio, I knew I'd feel pressured, frustrated, and annoyed by the people around me, so there really was no point going back. But I knew I had too, I had no opinion. Which sucked.