The Billionaire's Authentic Daughter ▶️

1 8 | J U L I A

A week after I started living in Braxton's house, I had gotten quite accustomed. I made sure I didn't disturb him with my presence and mostly stayed out of his view. Being a famous singer, he was often very busy and I hadn't had the courage to talk to him about our mutual love for singing.

Although I had left my life which was the past eighteen years behind, I didn't know what consequences it was going to have. I didn't drop out of school. I told no one, not even my friends where I was going or when. I just left.

I was sure that the school would ring up my family. I didn't know what explanation they would have for my absence.

After successfully evading having any conversation with Braxton for about ten days, he was finally able to catch me just as I was ready to leave for the library.

"Hey, Julia. I haven't seen you around much." He said one morning. He looked good like always.

I smiled nervously and tightened my grip on my handbag. "Hello, I've been a little busy with work and um...stuff."

"Can we talk? I won't take much of your time."

"Sure." We moved to the living room and I awkwardly sat down opposite him. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Just some things about you. I wasn't going to pry but I think I should ask. Are you okay with that?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so I just wanted to ask how old you are. You look quite young and I just want to make sure I'm not housing a runaway minor."

"No, no, I'm not a minor. I turned eighteen two months ago." Which was why most of the people in my grade didn't really want to be friends with a person two years older than them but with an IQ less than theirs. Some people even believed that I failed two classes although that wasn't true but it was believable because I was never the brightest kid in my school. I wasn't interested in academics and if I was, it wouldn't matter because my situation at my school and at home never allowed me to be in a clear state of mind to study and actually absorb what I was studying.

"So I assume you've finished high school. Are you in university?" His question pulled me out of my thoughts and I hesitated.

For a few moments,  I was at a loss for words. I was enrolled into school two years late because of which I was now in eleventh grade but I doubted he'd like this answer. He'd urge me to return back to where I came from and I was not going to go there ever again. He might report me to the police if I refused to go. I realized I had no other option but to lie.

"Yes, I've finished high school but don't have plans to go to university."

He nodded. "Thought so. Do you think your parents are worried about your whereabouts? I had only assumed you didn't get along with them and that's why you ran away."

I looked down at the handbag on my lap. "I'm sure they are worried...but for reasons different than any other parent with a missing child. You don't need to worry about that. I'm sure they won't report me missing and you won't be dragged into anything related to me."

"So what's your plan?"

"What?"

"What are you going to do next? If not uni, you got any other interests you want to pursue?"

I blushed. "Um...I want to be a singer."

Braxton looked surprised and be had a certain twinkle to his eyes when I mentioned singing. "Wow, really? That's great. Can you sing something for me?"

I shook my head frantically, squeezing the edges of my bag nervously.

He frowned. "Why not? I want to see how good you are."

"No, I'm not ready right now. I still have to go to a music school and there's so much I need to learn. I don't want to make a fool of myself in front of you."

"What do you mean me?"

"I mean you're a really good singer and I'm just starting. I'm not good enough right now."

He chuckled. "Hey, I understand. There was a time I felt self conscious about my voice too. I'm not forcing you. Take your time but I'd certainly love to listen to you sing at least once. I think you might be really good because your voice when you speak is already melodious, I could make a song out of your words." He beamed at me.

Braxton wanted me to sing in front of him. I was a bundle of nerves for the rest of the day. Normally I wouldn't be stressing over performing in front of people. I had done that in a lot of school performances and on my side jobs but Braxton was totally different from that. He was an acclaimed singer, loved by many. He had already proved himself, established himself in the field alongside being an excellent drummer. Mastering singing and drumming at the same time was a difficult task and he was perfect in both. Just the thought of singing in front of such a person had me shaking in my boots.

I really needed to recall all the lyrics to my songs. Singing them would make me feel my most confident self.

So while in the library behind the counter when the rush of voracious readers was slow, I found myself jotting down the lyrics from my memory and my memory was quite sharp when it came to my songs. It was even more helpful when I improvised on some lines and found them to be even better than what I'd written previously.

Braxton's opinion about this was important. His approval meant I had potential in this field. I had nothing else to strive for other than singing. It was my passion and I was going to hold on to the last thing that gave me happiness and made me look forward to the next sunrise.

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