The discovery of Melody

Chapter 4

I wake up feeling comfy and safe, which is really rare except if I am with Dylan. Oh... That's where I am. It's a weird feeling for me to feel content the morning when usually I feel empty. I try to stay still, basking in the moment of peace. A peace that will be broken in a few hours, when I'll have to start my job. A job I hate already, a job that I will do everything in my power to get fired after the first day.

I grab my phone that was on the nightstand and turn it on. Thirty-five missed called by my mother and more than fifty messages by my father. Two messages catch my eyes, one by Adelaide, asking me what's up and the other one from Kenya asking me about my whereabouts. I answer to both of the them but fuck my parents. I don't want to talk to them for the moment, if I do, I will probably say something I regret.

I feel Dylan stirring awake, and his arms tighten around me. I smile, I feel protected and safe.

"Ready for your day?" Dylan asks behind me, I sigh.

"Not really, I don't know how I will feel when I'll see him for the first time in a year." I confess, and I never confess how I feel.

Dylan tightens his arms even more, protecting me of the world.

"Don't worry about it, you are a strong woman. You are so brave to even show up at this dumb job." He kisses my forehead, it's kind of weird. He never kisses me except if it leads to playing in the sheets.

"I hope so... I don't want to crumble because of his presence." I admit to him, now that I started telling him how I feel, I can't stop. It's flowing right out of my mouth.

"You will Melody. I believe in you." He says while looking deep in my eyes. "Now let me make you breakfast." He announces.

He takes his clothes off the floor and dresses himself before going to the kitchen. After he leaves, I myself get out of bed and get in the bathroom. I take a quick shower and put on the same clothes as yesterday, I'm not going to make myself presentable for that shitty job. I brush my teeth and join Dylan in the kitchen, he looks like a snack making me breakfast with no shirt on. I approach him by behind and wrap my arms around his waist to feel his light abs, kissing his shoulder.

"Thank you for doing breakfast." I say shyly.

"Anything for you Melody." I can hear the smile in his voice.

He retracts himself and brings two plates at the dining table, which consisted of a round table made of wood, and four mismatched chairs. It was a weird combination, but it showed Dylan's personality, unexpected but charming.

We enjoy our marvelous breakfast while talking of more uplifting subjects to avoid the dread that is coming. We laugh and joke as the best friends we are.

While Dylan cleans up the dishes, he insisted, I walk back in the bathroom to put myself makeup on. For once I will put so much I'll look like a painting. And my signature red lipstick which I put on too much. I looked like a more refined Miranda Sings, but I still looked 'good' if I can so myself. I put on my shoes and take my bag, leaving to the living room to join Dylan.

When Dylan sees my face, his eyebrows go up.

"Are you going to a ball? That look is not professional Melody." He says.

"That's the plan Dill Pickle." I answer cheekily, he laughs as the old nickname resurface.

"Fine, Miranda Sings. Let's go." He says as he takes his keys out.

We leave the house; the drive is tense. Even though Dylan is trying to crack jokes to relax me, but nothing is working.

We finally arrive in front of the immense building, Mills & Co, the building was as intimidating as the owner of the company. Dylan and I walk out the car and he hands out his hand for me to hold, this is normally something I wouldn't accept, but for once I'll allow it. When we walk in, the main entrance looks so crisp I start feeling out of place. But I clear my head and think about my mission, getting fired. So, I walk confidently to the receptionist, strutting like I own this place. The receptionist looks up and immediately looks at me in shock, I can understand her, I look a bit like a street performer, if you get what I mean.