Violent (A BradGa Story)

Chapter 4: Can I Tell You a Secret?

Hey guys! I just wanted to say a huge thank you for the support and love. My goal for this story is to keep it as authentic as possible so I hope y'all stick around. I'll be doing my part  to share love - writing this story is one way.  Despite all the things that has been happening lately, I hope you stay safe and choose kindness. You are fondly thought of and appreciated.

 -D

ps: Just a head's up! There'll be a switch of POV from time to time. It will be Bradley's for these two chapters :) Enjoy!

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I stared at the door, waiting for Lady Gaga to open it. I thought it will take me a while to get lost in my track of expectations. That, and the uncertainty as to why I felt nervous. Maybe because of the thought of directing a fourth remake as my first movie or meeting someone I hardly know and involve them in this huge premise or both. I should've worn something better, maybe it would've lessen the nerves I was feeling now. In all the maybe's I had, there was one thing I was sure of - the sole reason why I stood here waiting is because of the beautiful voice that shot through my mind like a diamond.

Before I could let my mind wonder further that abyss of fear, I was met by the most beautiful emerald thing this world has hidden like wonders from me; leaving me completely frozen at the exact opposite of what I guess I was expecting to see.

There she finally was. When the door flung open, I saw her figure which illuminates halo-like radiation from behind despite the casual clothing she wore. I glanced at the script on my hand and back to the woman in front of me - this is Ally, in the flesh.

"Bradley Cooper. Hi!" she laughed awkwardly, trying to compose herself, and looked up at me.

The added awkward laugh considered her utterance as something subduing when she carefully examined the person behind the overestimated name; which then gave me some sense of comfort that never came when other people did.

"Just Bradley" I affirmed gently with a smile, trying my best to compose myself as well.

"Oh, okay, uh, Bradley. I kind of forgot about the time, please do come in." she welcomes, stepping aside for me to get in to her serene house.

She was up close to me now than she ever was green eyes near me that were more breath taking than I could have ever imagined a few nights back, holding a delirious sight of familiarity. I closed my eyes momentarily when we hugged, which took not only her by surprise but also myself, before I got in. Lavender and vanilla lingering on my nostrils with the contact of her hair on my neck, making my senses perk up and my head to snap back, leveling to the horizon.

"What a beautiful neighborhood. How often are you here?" Really, Bradley? 

She closed the door after I got in, hoping I didn't come off creepy,  I added "...With how busy you are, I assume you're not here as often."

She replies, guiding us to the kitchen and dining room that are adjacent to each other. "As often as I can be. I love it here. Much as I love the crowd, I soak in as much peace as I can get. People can get so..."

"Self-interested?" I finished her sentence, totally relating to what she was going with. 

She groans, "Yeah! I have to deal with it for work, and I love it but I gotta have some time to myself and meditate, you know? Wait, are you okay with pasta? I got some leftover. Don't worry though, I cooked it from scratch last night."

"I'm Italian; pasta has been pretty much 90 percent of my diet since I was probably still in the womb. I can talk about ways on heating up leftovers and newly discovered forms of yoga." I chuckled at the sight of Lady Gaga adding a small amount of water and spaghetti with sauce halfway to the bottom of the saucepan for me. I got up from my seat and offered to help but she stopped me.