"Good morning, class. Welcome to Ireland. Hopefully, you all aren't too hungover to get back into our daily school grind."

Our professor knows our class well. It is full of partiers and usually, Professor Tomlin is right out there with them. Hell, sometimes he's actually worse than them. That is not my scene at all, unlike my lovable best friend. I glance at Kristy, who is already laying her head on the table in front of her. She appears to be in some early morning distress.

"Take one and pass it down." Our professor hands out large binders. "You are officially seeing your script for the first time. The scenes are in order but are numbered according to the order in which the filmography students plan to shoot them. So, I'm giving you two days to read the script and get a feel for the characters and their surroundings. I want your primary focus to be on the scene starting on page 45, labeled number one. Take notes. Brainstorm. What type of music do you want to hear behind this scene? The more ideas you have, the better chance your idea will be chosen!" he says with excitement.

"Why is he yelling?" Kristy groans beside me. She lifts her head a little and then throws it back down to our table, allowing her long brown hair to spill wildly onto the table with it.

It would be a shame not to mess with her as an 'I told you so'. So, I slap her binder down onto the table next to her face, startling her and making me give the slightest giggle as an apology.

"He's not yelling. You're hungover. When did you get back last night?"

"I didn't." She grins wickedly, flipping open her binder to the assigned page.

That was the exact answer I was waiting for. Thank the lord, I don't have to share a room with her on this trip. It's bad enough sharing the dorm.

For four years, I have been living with this girl. Every evening is a party for Kristy. Drinking and sex is a typical night for her. If she slept with the same man two times, it meant they were practically in a long-term relationship. Long term lasts roughly a week. She has a short attention span. I have zero doubt Ireland will be no different.

"You couldn't go one night without it?" I bite my lip to prevent another laugh.

"I could, but why would I want to? You should try it while you're here. You're going to love it." She winks.

"Kristy!"

I scan the room to make sure no one heard her. I'd rather she didn't announce this to our entire class. There is no filter on this girl.

Why the hell did I choose her as a best friend?

"Give it up already. Once you get laid, maybe you won't be so uptight."

She talks about my virginity like this is some normal conversation around a dinner table while she sifts through her bag. She pulls out three highlighters and carefully selects the blue one. This was likely the toughest decision she was going to make all day.

"I'm not uptight," I argue. "I'm motivated."

"Right."

School is everything to me. It's my ticket to my snagging my dream career and getting out of Iowa. I don't party; I don't sleep around; I study. I study hard. I'm all in for making this career work. Sometimes, I wonder how Kristy and I became such good friends over the last four years. We have almost nothing in common, but she would do anything for me and I would do the same for her. The girl is my BFF-soulmate. There's no getting rid of her now. Four years, we're in a committed friendship.

I hesitate and stare down at her lack of faith in me. I can prove to her I'm not uptight.

"Fine. I'll go out to a bar with you tonight. One, for only two hours. So help me, Kristy, if you leave me there to run off with some guy, I will never go out with you again."

Her lips curl upwards and her eyes form saucers, making me uncomfortable.

Why did I just agree to that? This is a mistake. I take it back. Perhaps I am uptight...

"Deal!" she squeals, bouncing happily in her seat with a few claps of her hands.

I just got myself into trouble. She is going to get me drunk as quickly as she can. I have a lot of reading to do tonight. I need to make sure I buy the drinks so I can order water or something. Otherwise, she's going to put shots in my hand all night.

"Class, I need your attention again!"

Kristy and I both return our attention to see another man has joined our professor.

Whoa.

Hello, sir.

The man stands with his hands in the pockets of his crisp charcoal gray suit, appearing to be way too young to be wearing something this expensive. Tall, he stands with confidence at the front of the room. He scans the row of tables in front of him, waiting for the whispers of every girl in here to die down as all the guys clearly notice the increase in estrogen.

"Holy shit. Who and what is that?" Kristy whispers. I've never seen her eyes get so round, and I'm fairly certain mine are giving them a run for her money.

I glance back to the front of the room, eying the stranger, taking in his features of a sharp jawline, brilliant million-dollar smile, and short, perfectly placed, dirty-blond hair. All I can do is shrug, because I have no clue who he is.

"I want you all to meet Alex Sullivan. Mr. Sullivan is the CEO of Crypt Studios and you are all competing for his internship."

Oof. Hello, boss-man.

"Good morning." Sullivan's deep voice greets us.

Jesus, even his voice is worthy of a panty-dropping swoon.

"As you likely all know, I will hand out four internships after this movie is complete and your finals are finished. These internships are for two years at Crypt Studios as assistants to our current musical directors. Musical direction is our focus at Crypt."

And one of those internships is mine.

"A little about us. We are based in Los Angeles; so, this is where you would live for two years should you be selected and choose to accept." Sullivan paces the front of the room, hands in his pinstriped pockets as he does. "We have several departments, bands, orchestras, etc. No matter what type of music a filmmaker decides on, we can assist them through the entire scoring process. Our focus is soundtracks, but we are not limited."

Dream job. LA, here I come.

"This is a paid internship. Does it pay well?" He beams. "Not at all!"

The entire class laughs with him. Damn, boss-man even has a sense of humor. I lean back in my seat, taking in every word being dropped. I want this job more than anything.

"But you will be paid knowing that will hopefully assist you with your careers. Hell, maybe you'll decide to join us once your internship is finished. Please note if someone is offered an internship, and they do not accept, we will not take the runner-up. We only want the best." He looks directly at me, and I feel my face flush with heat. "Fight for it."

***

"You're wearing.... that?" Kristy scans my clothing with disgust.

She's wearing one of the shortest dresses I have ever seen, leaving nothing to the imagination. Yet, I seem to be the issue here.

Typical.

Kristy does not need to dress up to be beautiful. She is fucking gorgeous. The second she rolls out of bed in the morning, she looks like she could pose for the Cosmopolitan cover. She doesn't need makeup or a tanning bed. She has a natural olive tint to her skin which practically glows. But when she dresses up and puts on a face, watch out guys. She walks past and they cannot help but to stare. Shit, even women stare at her.

And then there's me, walking beside her.

"Yes?" I reply to her looking down at my dark denim skinny jeans, white tee and gray jacket.

I've never cared about what I wear. Rarely do I use makeup, but I could definitely benefit from using it. My hair is long, almost always down, and it has a natural wave to it. I almost never have to style it. If it is up, it is in a messy bun. I go back and forth between blonde and my natural light brown depending on how motivated I am to keep up with my roots. Basically, I am the pale, short friend of the goddess known as Kristy. I am invisible in my jeans and tees, and I am typically hauling around a backpack overly stuffed with school books. This is the way I like it. I'm not atrocious, but I'm not a Kristy either. I am a 'plain Jane'. I am the ordinary, whereas Kristy is the extraordinary.

Again, not sure how I'm best friends with this girl.

"It's the same thing you wore today," she continues.

"Yep." I grab my purse. "I'm not changing. I'm not trying to impress anyone." I'm just doing this so she shuts up for the rest of the trip and allows me to study in peace.

"Whatever." She grips my hand firmly, leading me out of the room. "Let's just go before you change your mind."

Upon stepping out of the hotel, we glance up and down the street. Familiarizing ourselves with the town hasn't been made a priority yet, and I'm just looking for any bar to get her to shut up.

"There's a bar like four kilo-thingies away I want to try. Lots of the guys went there last night and liked it." Kristy tugs at my hand for me to follow.

I'm stuck on kilo-thingies being in her vocabulary and her not understanding that this would be us walking four kilometers in an unknown country. That's over two miles and she's in heels. I don't want to walk that far. I know her, and she will not be walking home with me.

"Can't we just try this one?" I point to the green bar attached to our hotel. "It's within stumbling distance."

She rolls her eyes, taking what she can get, and walks us down a small flight of steps to enter the moss-colored building.

I was definitely right when I assumed this was a dive bar. There are two people sitting at the bar and a few sitting on couches are spread out all over the room. It's clean, but it's a bit drab. At first sight, it looks more like an old coffee shop. It's odd, and it's definitely not Kristy's type of bar. There are not enough men.

"Hell no." My hand is clutched again to lead me back out.

After finding a cab, we end up at the bar she wanted to visit and find it's filled with many people from school. It's bright, loud, filled with drunks, and basically, I hate it. As soon as we are in the door, I'm already attempting to come up with excuses to leave.

"Two tequila shots." Kristy lifts two fingers to the bartender.

"Kristy..." I glare.

She is well aware of my tolerance for tequila—I don't have one. She spent two days holding my hair back after one night of partying with her, and all I had was tequila.

"I have you for one hour. I'm getting you drunk and laid."

"You have me for forty-five minutes, and then I'm going home and reading the script," I warn, slamming my first shot. The burning scolds my senses until I bite my lime wedge.

"One down, five more to go!" She holds up her empty shot glass and clinks it against mine.

She's going to kill me to get me laid.

I'm going to die a virgin.

Irony.

"Hey, look at those guys over there! The hot ones. One for you, one for me! I'll even let you have the blond."

I glance over at two men on the other side of the room who are staring back at us. They look local, older, and drunk.

"No."

"Follow me!" Kristy disappears into a sea of dancing bodies. I knew this was going to happen. I don't follow her. Instead, I plant myself on a barstool.

"Can I get water with no ice and a mixer straw please?" I ask of the bartender.

I need Kristy to think I'm drinking. No way will I study tonight if I keep doing shots. That was my first and my last.

"Sounds great. Make it two," a man orders from behind me.

I instantly recognize the voice from this morning. I turn and see Alex Sullivan, the CEO of Crypt Studios, standing behind me. The expensive suit is gone and standing beside me is now a young, hot, dreamy man in dark tight jeans, a tight white shirt and a black leather jacket. Even his hair is messier than this morning. This looks good on him. Although, I cannot imagine this man could ever look bad in anything.

"You were in class today," he says, pointing at me. A smile appears on his face, exposing his incredible jawline. "Not into late nights?"

I stare at him for a second, mainly because A) he remembered me, and B) he is speaking to me.

His eyebrows lift and he stares back, maintaining his strong-jawed grin.

Words, Annie. Speak them. He's waiting for you to speak.

"I have a script to read. You wanted us to fight for it, right?" I smile back at him.

"You can have fun too." He smirks before sipping from his water.

"Studying is my idea of fun. This wasn't my idea. It was peer pressure. That shit is real."

"So, you want to be a musical director?" he asks. He takes the stool beside mine, ready to make this a full conversation.

I laugh. "No, why would you say that? I want to be an oral surgeon."

He rolls his eyes and chuckles at himself and how dumb of a question it was. It causes me to laugh with him.

"I sure hope I want to be a musical director. Otherwise, I just wasted a lot of money over the last four years."

His facial expression turns to confusion, followed by more laughter as he looks over my shoulder. I turn, wanting to hear what is so funny, finding Kristy waving from the corner of the room. Seeing who I'm sitting with, she waves her arms and pointing to Sullivan, mouths the words 'holy fuck'.

Thanks, Kristy.

"Is she your peer pressure?" he asks, waving back to her with another laugh.

"Sure is."

I hold up my water to her and quickly shoot it, suddenly wishing it was something stronger.  She is so embarrassing.

"So," he flashes another smile at me, "can I buy you a shot of water?"

The man obviously knows he's gorgeous. I don't understand how any girl could not appreciate the strong jawline when he smiles. I seriously contemplate taking him up on his offer, but I know better.

"Probably not the best idea."

This is turning flirty. I feel as though we are on some sort of date—one going much too well. He's smooth.

"Oh, and why is that?" he asks. His eyebrow cocks, awaiting an answer why any girl would turn him down.

"Because, I'm determined to work for you next year." I grin, spinning my glass on the bar top.

"Touché."

He holds up his water and stands from his stool. He took it a little too well. Perhaps it wasn't as flirty as I thought. I'm not complaining. I want his internship.

"Well, Jacobs, I hope to see you next year. I'm intrigued to see if all that studying and money pays off."

The way he just said my last name... swoon.

He definitely knows he's gorgeous, continuing to smile. I throw down a tip for the bartender and stand from my seat.

Actually, now that I think about it...

"How do you even know my name, future Boss Man?"

He positions himself closer to me with a single step; my breath hitches. We are almost nose to nose and I swear he looks as though he is going to lean down and kiss me as he places his hand on my hip.

I gulp loudly and awkwardly.

He looks down, causing my eyes to follow his direction and watch him shift his hand to lift my school ID badge, which is still hanging from the waist of my jeans. He offers me another smirk as I die a little. I'm definitely getting the impression he does not get turned down often. And he's definitely flirting.

"Right." I roll my eyes, smiling and nodding to him as he walks away.

Yep, that definitely just happened. Boss Man is hot.

"Oh my god, Annie!" Kristy quickly takes advantage of his absence by taking his vacant seat. "Did you see how he was looking at you?"

"No," I lie.

I saw how he was looking at me. And the touch... whoa. But I worked hard to get where I am. I will not screw it up by flirting with my potential employer, which I feel like I already did. This will not happen again.

"Is he coming back?" she asks, scanning the room for him. She stands from the seat and gives me a slight push out of her line of sight.

"No. He offered to buy me a drink, and I turned it down."

Does it count as buying a drink if it's water in a shot glass? Besides the point, Annie.

"Why would you do that? Are we looking at the same man? Tall? Amazing smile? Dreamy? Rich?" Her eyes finally land on him. He is now in the bar's corner with Professor Tomlin. "He practically eye-fucked you, Annie."

"He could be our boss, Kristy. It's so inappropriate."

"I'm going to go talk to him!"

That doesn't surprise me in the least.

"You do that. Can I go now? I need to study." I stare at her for approval, but her eyes are fixated on Sullivan. Poor guy, the huntress has spotted her prey.

"Fine. Whatever. Bye." Kristy tosses her hands up and walks away on a mission, while I'm internally cheering for my freedom.