The Love Song

Heart-Throb-Heart-Break

The next day was a day where I tried to disguise my nerves with relaxation.

It didn't work.

I painted my nails red, and took my time. I soaked in the tub for an hour, closing my eyes and enjoying the scent of my decadent vanilla bubble bath. I spent too long on my hair, making the fanciest up-do yet, then took it all out, realizing I didn't want to seem to desperate for my "date" with Thomas. I dialed down the make-up, too, but couldn't resist spraying my perfume. I put on super-skinny jeans and a flowing red top, and then added my favorite casual heels.

In the end, I looked dressed up. But compared to what "Coral" wore, this was nothing.

I got to the restaurant and after mentioning Thomas's name, the hostess led me right to him. He wore black dress pants and a blue button down, and his hair was easily messed up, as if he'd done it on purpose. He stood when I arrived.

"Hi." He said shyly.

"Hi to you, too," I said. We both sat and the waitress took our drink orders as we opened our menu's.

"So, how are you?" Thomas asked.

"I'm great," I respond. "I've had the day off, and I had a great show last night. How about you?"

"I'm good," He said, nodding his head," Yeah, I've been busy trying to get into an acting career, but it's harder than it looks."

"Tell me about it," I said, "I've been stuck in this whirlwind of barely famous for too long."

He nods as we give the waitress our orders and then she scoops up our menu's.

"So, tell me about you." He says, taking a drink from his cola.

"Well, I'll tell you a secret." I say, deciding to trust his gentle eyes. "My stage name is Coral, but I prefer to go by Gabrielle."

"Hmm." He says. "Well hello Gabrielle." He winks and butterflies swarm my stomach.

"I'm eighteen years old, and I love to sing." I added. "Now your turn."

"Well, I'm Thomas Jones." He says, "I'm 20 years old, and I love to act. Uh.. Also, I'm a football fanatic, I'm obsessed with my car, and I am ashamed to admit that I love Justin Bieber's music."

I laugh and he looks at me with his light green eyes, almost ashamed.

"It's hard not to like Justin's music." I say, "I'm a huge fan, actually. But Taylor Swift is my idol."

"Oh, Taylor Swift..." He says, jokingly dazing into the distance. I laugh and grins at me.

Finally, our food arrives, and we eat and talk about the food. It should feel awkward by now, but it doesn't.

When our dinner is cleared we end up staying and talking longer. My heart pounds so hard, I'm sure this date is going well. He's so... perfect. It's far too much like a fairytale.

"Yeah, my dad and mom introduced me to music." I admit. "They both dìed this year." I cough and add "Car accident." I don't need him to know my dad was that guy who jumped off the bridge.

"I'm so sorry to hear that." He says, compassion filling his expression.

"No, no, it's okay."

"Yeah, I actually just got into acting because of my girlfriend. Yeah, she totally pushed me to get out there."

Girlfriend what?

"Oh, that's great!" I say, "I bet you two are really close." My mood just deflated. I though he was into me... but all this time he has a girlfriend and just wants to be friends. I stir my straw around my my glass, wishing to get out of the restaurant as soon as possible.

"Yeah, her name is Hailey." He says, "You should meet her sometime! I bet you two would get along."

I nod absent mindedly.

"Definitely!" I lie, "That'd be awesome! But I've really gotta run, my manager is probably waiting for me. I've really gotta get my writing for my first ever album going. I've been putting it off way too long."

By that I meant: You've just crushed my heart and now I have tons of ideas for a song.

"Yeah," We both stand and he reaches over to give me hug.

Uh, what?

We hug, and it isn't awkward, thankfully. I wish it would last longer. We break apart and head to our cars. My Mercedes is parked directly beside his BMW. He flashes a genuine smile and laughs as I awkwardly climb into my car. This night couldn't be more disappointing. He motions for me to pull out first, and I head home as he drives in the other direction; probably to Hailey's house. I say it in a rude way even in my head.

"Hailey and I are super close," I mock under my breath as I drive through the darkness. "Neh neh neh."

I get to my house and slam the door closed, throwing my keys and dumping my purse. I run upstairs and change into yoga pants and a tee shirt, and grab my notebook and pen from my bedside table.

"I'm done with boys," I say, "Why did I even let myself think I had time for them?"

I scrawl my feeling onto the paper, forming a song with rhythm in my mind. Tears fall from my eyes because I feel stupid. Stupid for letting my guard down.

Eventually my eyes dry and then shut, and I'm swept into another dream filled night.