Beneath Your Beautfiul

Chapter 1 - Blue Jeans

-Taylor Winters-

Life is a fallacy. The definition of life itself is-"the quality that distinguishes a vital and functioning being from a dead body".

Ironic how most of the time I just feel like a dead body with no purpose, and yet here I am, a functioning, living being.

I was just able to complete my final thought as the deafening bell rang, but I still felt my entry was incomplete. I sighed and closed my journal glancing at my best friend, Tasha who rolled her eyes at me and mouthed "that was soooo boring". I laughed in conscientious agreement as we both put our journals in our bags and left English.

Honestly, I didn't think it was boring though. I actually liked being able to flush my thoughts onto paper, but I would never admit to Tasha that journaling in English was fun for me, so I continued walking alongside her down the bustling main hallway at East Miami Beach High School. It was lunch time and on any ordinary day i'd go out with my friends to eat, but on this October day I had different plans.

"Shit, I just remembered that Mr. Mathews gave me lunch detention." I lied to Tasha.

She hugged me goodbye with an empathetic look and I hustled in the direction of my History class. When I figured no one was watching I took a detour to the parking lot and found my little blue Bug parked in my usual spot. I accelerated on the gas pedal and hurried downtown to Miami Productions Studio.

I had entered a song writing contest a couple months ago held by KISS FM radio station and I got my letter in the mail yesterday announcing that I was a finalist and to come down to the studio ASAP. The only reason i'd ever allow myself the disclosure of such a contest is because the winner gets their song recorded by Austin Mahone, plus $25,000 and possibly more depending on how much the song sells.

"Taylor Winters?"

I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard my name.

I looked around the deserted lobby and saw a short , stubby man with a headset and a clipboard, eyes looking aimlessly at me.

"Um hi," I said with a puzzled look.

He didn't say anything so I just followed him down the hall, back to the studio. I had seen studios before on tv but it was nothing compared to how exquisite it was to actually be in the studio where they make the magic of music happen. You could feel the aura of music and business mixed into one.

I sat down in a little leather chair in front of Mike Davidson, a well known song writer who's written for Beyoncé, Usher, Rihanna and so many more.

"Taylor, I presume?" He said in a sharp british accent as I got myself situated.

"Yes, hello Mr. Davidson, it's such an honor to meet you." I said nervously. There were two other people in the room, one who looked extremely bored and/or annoyed, I couldn't tell and the other who was almost hiding behind the door connecting the sound booth and studio.

"The pleasure's all mine, Miss Winters," Mike Davidson said with a smile, "I have to give you a grand congratulations on making our final 3. It was a tough competition but I can tell you I fancy your work, as does Mr. Wheeler, KISS FM radio's manager who will also be producing the winning song." He gestured to the man behind him to his right who was a tall and frumpy guy with movie star glasses.

He looked like he needed to be somewhere else as he checked his designer watch impatiently and that my little meeting with Mike Davidson and himself was a total inconvenience. I waved and smiled and he just turned to the guy behind the door who I couldn't see well and made a hand gesture towards me. All I could see of the unknown guy was that he was wearing black Vans and worn-out blue jeans.

I thanked Mr. Davidson for choosing me and he said that Austin Mahone himself would be here next Friday to perform each of the finalists' songs and then announce the winner after.

He told me my friends and family were all invited and that a meet and greet with Austin was being set up soon. Of course I couldn't invite my friends, what would they think if they knew I spent my free time writing songs like a total loser?

No, it wouldn't end well, and plus most of my songs were about boys and personal things that I'd rather not have everyone at my High School know. I would just invite my cousin, Kira who sings most of the songs I write for me because I can't sing to save my life. The short man with the headset led me out of the studio and back to the lobby, he gave me a V.I.P pass for Friday and grumped away. Jeez, why is everyone here in such grumpy spirits? I laughed to myself as I made my way to the front door but I got distracted by the fascinating pictures of celebrities that had been at this studio before me.

I saw Avril Lavigne, Rihanna, and even Michael Jackson's pictures. I smiled; I was happy that I would get the chance to meet Austin and possibly win $25,000. Lost in my thoughts again and looking at my V.I.P badge curiously, I ran into someone on the way out the door.

"Sorry" I said as I realized I had dropped my badge.

"No, I'm sorry. I guess I'm not very good at walking and texting." A gruff voice said to me as I picked up my badge.

I looked up at him then, and recognized him immediately. It was Nick Parker of all people staring down at me with his deep, blue eyes. I didn't know him personally, I just knew of him, like that he had a thing with Tasha over the summer and that he was a wide receiver for West High which would definitely explain the "Turn it up Tigers" t-shirt he was wearing. Tasha also declared him as a "total player" so I figured I should stay away from him.

"It's okay, only certain people can master the art of multi-tasking" I said dorkishly.

I instantly did a mental face-palm.

He smiled a cocky, boyish smile and then tilted his dirty blonde head a little. "Hey, do I know you from somewhere?" He said as we both walked out to the parking lot.

"I highly doubt it." I said too quickly and started walking in the direction of my car.

"Hey wait up." I heard him call but I couldn't risk anymore indecent exposure.

He could not find out who I was or why I was at the studio, so I hopped in my little car and drove off as fast as I could.

I stole a glance in my rearview mirror, proud of my quick getaway and my heart instantly sank.

I realized that Nick was wearing black Vans and worn-out blue jeans.