Two years have passed since Riley first burst into the music industry with the hidden identity of, The Masked Singer. With two albums under her belt and a third one on the way, Riley supposedly has her pathway marked out. No tours are planned, no in...
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On the walk back to my apartment, I have to keep looking to my side to check if Nathan is really walking beside me. I've longed for the moment we'd meet again, I have so many things I want to say, so many things to straighten out so that we can both move forwards. Perhaps the closure between the two of us will help me with this new album concept I'm supposed to submit tonight or just another distraction to keep me from the sucky world of reality.
I open my apparent door and flick the lights on. The lights instantly fill every inch of the space with a bright glowing light. I walk inside and signal for Nathan to continue walking. I carefully watch Nathan's reaction to my place. It's a bit of a mess, but it's a creative one as I like to call it.
"I like the place." He nods his head.
"Thank you."
The apartment is relatively small, but I guess that's the usual for this city. I'm hardly here, so doesn't matter, I just want a place to call home and a retreat of my own when I'm recording music here. Hotel rooms are great for a night, but never really a place to call yours. I'd managed to convert this place into my space.
The owner of the building was fine with the changes I wanted to make, in fact he seemed excited by the bright colours and design choice. I quickly implemented a nice style and over the last couple of months, the wall space has been taken over by ripped pieces of paper as I started placing and constructing my album. I'd taken the concept of a pin-up board and redefined it.
"Can I?"
"I thought you were here to make pancakes?" I tease.
"But your creative wall looks much more appealing," he replies.
"If you're a good boy, maybe I'll singing you a song."
"I think I spy my name." As Nathan goes to step closer, I slip in front of him and block his view from my wall. Nathan was a big part of my history, it just seems fitting he'd make it onto the album I was working on.
"I think I hear the kitchen calling you." I smile.
The happy smile slips off his face, and it replaced with a cheeky, mysterious one which makes my stomach churn with excited, thrilled nerves.
"I'll make sure I hear this song before I leave tonight," he says.
"You better start making those amazing pancakes then." I show Nathan to the kitchen, along with giving him a light tour of the kitchen and where everything is. When he appears confident in what he's doing, I head to the other side of the kitchen bench and settle on the stool.
While Nathan is busy adding ingredients together, I pull out my notebook and rest it on the table in front of me. I flick to the most recent page and scribble the date at the top and a title for the headspace.
