Nightmare on Broadway (California Dreaming Sequel)

Chapter Twelve

Hi everyone! I'm so sorry for being such a crappy and unreliable uploader! I just haven't been inspired to write this story, I've been distracted by other such things...Anyway! I am going to try really hard now to finish this story, because I know exactly where it is going and how it is going to end. 

Please check out some of my other stories if you enjoy this one! Leave me a comment and tell me you've read this and you will be rewarded :) 

Thank you for staying loyal, again, I'm sorry :/ xxx

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   “I’m nervous!” I confessed, stretching my long, delicate fingers across my cheeks, kicking my feet against the cracks in the concrete sidewalk. We were on our way to the record label offices, to meet with one of the directors of the company, to gauge how suitable I was for the position. 

   “You’ll be fine,” Edward assured me, squeezing one of my shoulders before draping his arm around my neck, holding a large, black umbrella over my head. 

   Rain was falling over the whole of Manhattan, collecting in the gutter and gushing down into the sewage grates. Where there were puddles in the middle of the pavement, the rain caused ripples to scatter across it’s surface, and the gentle pitter patter against the umbrella above reminded me of England. It was often raining there, and grey, always ever so grey. On nights where the weather was dull and sedative I would refuse to leave my house, instead I would curl up on my sofa with a duvet and watch old horror movies. 

   There was one particular memory, with Harry, where he had come to look after me when I was sick. It was almost completely black outside, although it was only five o’clock, and he was showing me all of his favourite movies. It had been the first time I had watched Donnie Darko and it was one of those films which had a significant effect on me, one which played on my brain more than it probably should. Ever since Harry had killed himself I had decided to block all of the bad things from my brain, to only focus on the good memories I had of him, because, there were a lot of good ones - like this one. 

   “You don’t know that,” I disagreed, “they might not believe me when I say how perfect I am for this job, or not like the way I wear my hair,” I paused and gulped loudly. “They might think I’m just another ditzy California girl.” 

   “Jia,” Tyger laughed disbelievingly, jogging ahead of us and then walking backwards along the street, being careful not to knock into any pedestrians. Water was soaking into his dark hair, beginning to drip off the ends and move across his forehead. “Jia, we’ve known you, what, just over a week? There hasn’t been one minute where I’ve considered you a ditzy California girl, everything about you is quick and sharp and intelligent.” 

   “I don’t know if-” I started, but Ty just interrupted me again. 

   “You are, you’re more interesting than you give yourself credit for,” he scolded me, stopping outside a large office building and waiting for me and Ed to catch up. 

   The record label was in Midtown, right by the Rockefeller Centre, where there were masses of tourists trying to find their way to Time Square, their disposable cameras raised high above their heads, trying to capture any, and every, vaguely interesting looking concrete building. There were usually more business men and women around in this area, but Edward had told me earlier that there was a Yankees game this afternoon and so Midtown would be less crowded. 

   “Interesting,” I pondered, “is interesting just another way to say how odd I am?” I raised my eyebrows expectantly and Tyger held open the door for me and Edward, slipping into the air conditioned offices. Ed closed the umbrella and shook off the water in the doorway before carrying it into the lobby.