The Melody Of Us

A Big, fat lie

CailinSpraoi thanks for this beautiful cover! I love it!

|Liana|

"And this is my room." I say and open the door, letting Gabriel in.

"Wow. It's spacious." He looks around like a kid.

"Says someone who must have a bedroom the size of this mansion."

"Uh, no. I don't have a particularly huge bedroom. It's small and comfortable. Like home."

"One's bedroom defines home." I state and he gives me that billion dollar smile.

I've practically shown him the whole mansion. It wasn't easy. He asks way too many questions. It was annoying and I had to give him the Liana-The-Daredevil glare to shut him up.

So, here we are.

Gabriel shamelessly sits down on my bed and smirks at me. I raise my eye brow and sit on the chair in front of my study table. Look at the ironical situation. It's my room, and it feels like I'm the guest here.

"So? Tell me about you." He says.

"Uh, what do you want to know?"

"Let's start with the basics. Tell me–"

"Basics? Who are you, a maths teacher?" I say and he laughs.

"That was a good joke. Well, I meant... What are your hobbies?"

Listening to your songs and then singing their covers...

"I have no hobbies." I lie. A big fat lie. I don't know why, but I can't bring myself to tell him anything about my true passion for music.

"Are you lying to me?" He narrows his eyes and I squirm under his gaze.

"Why would I lie to you?"

"I don't know. You seem like a person who'd have a huge list of hobbies."

"Uh huh? Like what?"

"Well.. you look like someone who'd be into dancing."

"Dancing?"

"Yeah. I mean, you have a perfect figure, which a slim and toned body–"

He keeps on listing down my features that make me look like a dancer, and I fail to listen to his words. Wanna know why?

Because just by the way, Gabriel Stone is talking about my figure.

It is really overwhelming to listen to a popstar throw compliments at you for your physical appearance.

I pinch my arm and yelp, earning a confused expression from Gabriel.

"What's wrong?" He asks as I rub the area on my arm I just pinched.

"Nothing."

He frowns and leans forward, resting his chin on his palm.

"Why haven't we met before?" He asks. "I mean, I've practically known Myra my whole life."

"Well, I don't live with Myra. I never did."

"Why not?"

"She left us about eight years ago and since then, I've managed to not let her in."

"Why would you do that?"

"Honestly, Gabriel. I–"

"Gabe. You can call me Gabe."