New York | An Original Ed Sheeran Fanfiction

Chapter 1

I can feel my phone buzzing from somewhere in the depths of my bag as I come up from the subway at Franklin Street. Digging around, I can feel it at the very bottom of my purse and manage to pull it out – just as it stops ringing. Fuck. It was the recruiter who'd set up the interview I'd been on this morning.

I hit redial before the message alert can sound, and she answers immediately.

"Hey, Michelle. Sorry I was just coming out of the subway. What's up?" I'd been working with Michelle for about 6 months now, and we have a pretty casual relationship. Moving to Manhattan had always been a dream, so when my long-term relationship ended a month ago, I'd decided to make it happen.

It was the craziest, bravest, most exciting, and terrifying thing that I'd ever done – just quit my job, packed up my stuff and my cats, and moved to New York with no plan. Fortunately, two of my closest friends lived in Manhattan and one of them, Danielle, was currently spending six months in Australia, so I at least had a place to stay until I was settled.

Michelle had immediately lined up several interviews for me, including the one I'd been at this morning. This job was my first choice – I couldn't have designed my dream job more perfectly.

"Babe, they want you."

"What? Seriously?!"

"Vanessa just called and they're going to present an offer by end of day. I've got to run to a meeting, but I wanted to let you know. I'll be in touch when I've got the offer. Talk soon." And with that she hangs up.

I'd stopped walking when Michelle gave me the news, moving off to the side of the sidewalk. I start the rest of the short walk home, texting Ashleigh (the other friend who's still in the city) with the good news. As I round the corner from Franklin to Hudson, my phone buzzes.

Ash: Amazing! Dinner at Angelo's to celebrate?

One second I'm typing a response to Ash...and the next I'm on my ass, feet having flown out from under me as I miss the step off the curb. Coordination has never been a particularly strong attribute of mine.

"Whoa...steady. You okay?" A strong hand is gripping my elbow to help me up. A hand that is attached to a very colorfully tattooed arm. My gaze runs up that arm and into the bluest eyes I've ever seen. Holy shit. It's Ed Sheeran. And he's looking at me all intense, with a concerned expression on his face.

As he helps me to my feet, I somehow manage to respond. "Ye...Yes. Thank you. God, this is mortifying."

He chuckles briefly, then the concerned look is back as I wince when I put weight on my left foot. "Sure you're okay? Maybe you should sit for a second." And with that, he starts to lead me into a nearby coffee shop.

I'm going to need something stronger than my usual quad shot latte to handle my current level of embarrassment, so I suggest the little bar next to the café instead. Ed readily agrees, though it's only just past eleven, and helps me into the bar and to a table.

When the waiter comes over to take our order, I hesitate, starting to order a glass of wine, but then decide "Fuck it," and ask for champagne. Ed raised his eyebrow, and orders an Aberfeldy, water on the side.

"You know, generally the champagne comes before you fall off a curb," he teases, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm Ed, by the way." As if I could possibly not know who he was!

"Spencer." Just then my phone, which I'd dropped onto the table when we sat down, start to buzz. It's Ashleigh, calling because I'd never sent the text that caused my less than graceful moment in front of a Grammy-winning pop superstar.