My Studio

Chapter 4

(What Shawn looks like, like age wise in the book. Like cause some people still make like fetus Shawn books.... So yah^^^ THATS THE HOTTIE)

Let's pretend Shawn lives in New York rn, cause that's the location in the story😛 ok read now👌🏼

•Shawn's POV•

Driving through the woods out in the middle of no where, for half an hour defiantly makes you think. About everything. From to what the hell am I going to do when I get to the studio. To I god damn hope they have food there.

•30 minutes later•

I pull into the dirt pathway that leads up to the Studio, thinking how I'm going to do this. I've never been in the studio by myself before—how do I work the buttons—Should I tell Andrew I'm here? With multiple more negative questions coming to my mind—I find myself parked on the side patch of gravel that's connected to the dirt path.

I kinda just sat there. I don't know if I was waiting for her to text me and tell me that it meant nothing, and she's needs me in her life. But instead all I heard was the quiet engine of my car. I looked around at the front of the studio to see if any Lights were on inside. Then realizing I'm completely alone—it hit me hard. I'm Completely. And utterly. Alone.

•Serena's POV•

Just placing myself on the amazingly comfortable cushions of the couch in the living room, with my Hot Chocolate and Harry Potter book. I see car headlights. Immediately my heart rate increases thinking it was coming to the studio, but reminding myself no one knows it's actually a studio, my heart rate lowers back to normal.

Looking down at my book and hot–now probably warm chocolate smiling to myself for getting scared so easily, I noticed that the lights have not gone away.

My eyes grow wide, and my breath gets caught in my throat. Why are they still there? Am I seeing stuff? I begin to panic and I'm breathing fast and heavily. Staring at the window, shielded by certains, so if someone were to be outside, they couldn't see in. I slowing sit up from the couch, putting my stuff on the table, and slowing and hesitantly walking over to the curtains.

I make a little crack in the curtain to see if anyone was outside, and sure to be. There was a car. I didn't freak out, just confused–I didn't recognize the car. And everybody that I did know that came to the studio–wouldn't come back this soon, knowing they new about the worst day. Who is that then?

Completely flustered at who it could be, I start rushing to clean up any evidence that I, or anyone in that fact, was here. I start fixing up the blanket I was using, and putting it were it was. Dumping out my hot chocolate while scolding whoever is out there for making me do that. Putting my book in a bookshelf where I'll remember it. After looking around the room, stunned from all that I just did, I swiftly moved over to the curtain and made a tiny, opening allowing me to barley look through. I saw the headlights of a car. Parked on the gravel driveway that guests use— which tells me that he is not a close family friend because he doesn't know about the Secret parking.

The head lights turn off but still no one has gotten out of the car. Not understanding what is happening I wipe my clammy hand on my pants and run my fingers through my hair facing away from the window. The sound of a car dinging, meaning the drivers door has been opened. I jump and quickly turn back towards the window and stare at it for a second. After realizing I'll need time to get back there, I pivot back around, and sprinting the opposite direction of the window, towards the one-way room.

After fumbling with the keys to the door I finally get the right key and quickly shove the door open, throwing myself inside, and gently closing the door making sure to make no noise.

This room. This room is one of the major parts of my childhood. Looking around I see......

CLIFF HANGER!!🙆🏼😈 For the next chapter VOTE! It's going to start getting real good now😋❤️ Love u amigos! VOTE