The Songs We Were Singing

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As they walked down the hallway of the nice hotel she saw all the old chandeliers. They all were rather high up on the ceiling. Some of the light bulbs were touching the ceiling. Thomas stopped short and smiled cheesily.

"This is my room. We can hang out in there, or out here in the hall way." He said, "Whichever you're more comfortable with." She chose the hall.

"Here we go." He said putting down a stack of vinyls, "These are my travel records." He laughed.

"You left some at home?" She asked looking at the large stack.

"I'll admit, I brought a lot, but there are a lot more." He chuckled.

"Gosh, I wish I had these! Are these originals?" She asked pulling out a few specific albums.

"Some are, others I bought from a store! I've never seen anyone so into albums." He said watching her pull one out of the sleeve. She gasped at the dust covering it.

"So, do you not use this one?" She asked blowing the dust out of the grooves. He shook his head.

"It was a gift from someone I'd like to forget." He said looking down at the other albums. She put it on the red turntable that was plugged into the wall, and turned it on. The sweet melody floated through the air causing Thomas to remember her.

"The one who gave it to me was named Elsie." He said, "She was sweet, and loved music almost as much as I do." He smiled at Dot who had her head against the wall listening to the song playing. Thomas continued to describe Elsie until the song ended.

"Sorry about that." He said picking up another record. He put it on, and smiled at the white noise that came out only seconds before the song started.

For a while we could sit and talk about all the vast intricacies of life

Dot gasped, "This was my parent's song." She said smiling bitter sweetly.

"What happened to them?" He asked. She forced out a laugh.

"Like telling you could change anything." She said harshly, "Sorry." She said immediately after, "I shouldn't have snapped. It's just a touchy subject." Thomas nodded.

"I understand. I mean, Parents are hard to discuss anyway. If you've lost them it's even harder." He said.

"No, it would be easier if I were to say I lost them in the sense they died, but they're living in Sheffield. Happily I might add." She said sighing against the wall.

"So, what happened to them?" He asked.

"They decided once I turned 18 I was out of the house, and I couldn't come and visit until I was 21. Of course I was so angry that I didn't. If I told them who I was they'd exploit me, and my money." She said without thinking.

"What do you mean who you are?" He asked. She paused.

"What I mean to say is..." She paused suddenly, "Actually, it's just-" He paused and looked at her. She looked down, and sighed.

"You are the only writer I had ease reading." He said. She was genuinely surprised. She thought he would be angry. Or maybe even shout about it to passersby. But he didn't. He sat there in the hallway of the Buttermaple Inn holding a secret that the entire media would kill to know. She couldn't believe this.

"So, are you gonna tell anyone?" She asked. He shook his head.

"What? And ruin your well preserved secret?" He asked, "Not a chance." She smiled.

"Ya know what?" She asked, "I'm starting to like you actor types." She said standing up. He looked at her and smiled.

"Do you know how to dance?" She asked. He laughed. He shook his head.

"No," He said, "It doesn't even matter which kind of dancing. I can't." She smiled.

"Me either, but I can always act like it." She laughed. She grabbed his hand and placed it in hers. She placed a hand on his shoulder, "Ready?" She asked starting the record over again.

"We're really gonna waltz to Paul McCartney?" He asked.

"Why not? It's in 3/4 time?" She asked. He shrugged and took her waist. As soon as the measure started over they began waltzing up and down the hallway. Not much space, but they didn't mind.

"Thomas?" She asked. He looked down at her in reply, "You don't mind that I lied to you, do you?" She asked. He smiled and shook his head.

"How could I keep it against you? It's basically your job." He said trying to meet her eye, "Why? Do you feel guilty, or something?" She looked up at him.

"More like 'or something'." She sighed. They continued waltzing long after the song had ended resulting in passers by looking at them strangely. They only stopped once they heard his costars coming down the hall.

"Quick, hide." He said pulling her back down the hallway toward his room. They got into his room and he closed the door.

"What is-?!" He placed his hand over her mouth as soon as she started yelling only letting a few words slip out of her mouth.

"Look, if they catch you up here they'll either kick you out, make fun of me mercilessly, or even worse, spread rumors." He pursed his lips and waited for the sound to die down. When it didn't he told her to wait there and to be quiet. She nodded her agreement and he went out to see what was going on.

"Hey! Thomas!" Dylan said, "These journalists want to ask us a couple questions!" He asked waving him over.

Thomas answered as many questions as he could but mainly stood there quietly.

"Thomas, is there a girl back home?" One asked. Thomas shook his head.

"Not really," he said.

"Do you plan on getting a girl anytime soon?" They asked. He shrugged.

"It really depends. I don't mind being single. I don't have to have a..." He started, looking around. Then he saw her. It was Dot. She was sneaking away and out the door. He made eye contact with her and she nodded. He didn't really know what she meant by it, but he knew by the smile on her face she meant it.

"Thomas?" The reporter asked again.

"Sorry," he said snapping out of his daze, "What did you ask?" He asked her.

"You never finished your statement about whether you'll get a girl soon."

"Oh," he said, "Sorry, I remember, I don't need one all the time, but if one comes along I'm not gonna reject it!" He laughed. The reporter seemed to like that statement. After that he was let go, and he headed to the front door.

Thomas ran down the street looking for her. Seeing if she had gone anywhere. He noticed his bike still there so she had to have walked, but he didn't see her anywhere.

The sound of a bus caught his attention and caused him to look at it as it went by. He caught a glimpse of her as it passed. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he went back up the stairs to his room.

"Hey! Thomas!" He saw Dylan coming closer to him. Thomas turned completely around to face him, "Why did you go outside?" He asked, "I mean, it's a free country, but was there a reason?" Thomas shrugged.

"Not really. I was just curious about somethin." He said walking into his room and closing the door. Thomas opened his laptop and googled Miss Terry Righter to see what came up. There was an entire blog with someone claiming to be her. He scrolled on to the next link.

'I know who she is.' This seemed interesting.

"Her name is Dorothy Bramble." The crazed sounding lunatic said, "This is where she lives! This is her picture! I swear! Go to this address and you'll find her!" He seemed creepy. Thomas decided to give it a go anyway. So, off he went to find the seemingly, girl of his dreams.

Hi! Guys! This story is so cute! Sorry for the delay! I was sick! And a slacker... But mainly sick! Please comment and vote! AND COMMENT!! ;)

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