I couldn't drag myself out of bed the next morning.

It could have been the time change or the fact that I was on a plane for the majority of the day before.

But it was neither of those things, because the plane ride was barely two hours and the time change was only one.

I groaned as I lay in my tiny bed and pulled myself out, noticing that it was well past noon. Coffee was a necessity at this point or else I'd be a zombie for the remainder of the day. My suitcase wasn't unpacked yet as I grabbed jeans, a sweater, and booties to get ready. Stumbling about the apartment, I eventually found the directions to the coffee shop which was a whole subway ride away in Manhattan. Underneath was a note from Eva saying she was off at four and would meet me back home if I ended up exploring. I wanted to explore, but first things first: coffee. So I set out the streets of New York. The air was cold on my face, even after I pulled my coat tighter around me. I followed Eva's instructions directly, paying for my ticket and boarding the first subway that would take me to Lenox Hill.

The subway was an experience and a half.

People jostled by, elbowing you harshly if you were in their way. I nearly lost my footing many times and was ready to call it quits and just head back home. But I'm a survivor. And I'd have to survive this for the next five months. So I heaved in a breath, tightened my grip around the pole, and waited until they called out my stop.

As I entered the coffee shop, I was hit with the strong smells of coffee filling the air. The place was very cool, with a nice touch of rustic and class. I saw the words etched in white on the counter and all the cups that read, The Pearl. I approached the counter where a guy stood in all black, reaching for a cup and scribbling on the order before looking up to me.

"Hey, what can I get for you today?"

"A blended white chocolate mocha," I told him instantly, not bothering to read their menu. He smiled almost pityingly.

"We don't carry that. I can make you a mocha though. Or an iced mocha."

"This is one of those coffee coffee places, isn't it?"

He laughed and it sounded like he was a little kid. "Yeah, sorry."

"It's fine. I'll just have a twelve-ounce hot chocolate. Do you have that?"

"We sure do. Here or to go? I suggest here, because we're having a guy doing a little gig and I heard he's good."

I looked over and saw a guy setting up an acoustic guitar and microphone.

"For here then, I got some time."

"Awesome and what's the name?"

"Talia," I told him as he scribbled my name on a slip of paper before putting it on the saucer of a cup and sliding it towards the other worker. I paid him and moved down to the pickup area when I heard a scrape of a seat and a quick strum of the guitar.

"Hi, my name is Timothy Bartholomew and I'll be singing a few songs for you guys today," he began, shifting his guitar and then pushing the glasses further up his nose. Poor guy. He looked like he had never done this before. His whole demeanor screamed wannabe indie rockstar, but the way he was acting wouldn't get him a record deal. The fedora on his head was a bit too big and the worn out jean jacket looked strange with the cargo pants and beat up Converse. I didn't even know what to make of him.

"The first one is called Little Darling." He shifted one last time before he began strumming. Wow, okay, he was a very good guitarist. His nervous demeanor vanished and he seemed like he was in his entire element. Like he lived for this.

"Hot chocolate for Talia," another barista said and I smiled at him before taking it to an empty table not far away from Timothy Bartholomew – goodness, what a name. He didn't start singing until I sat down, which I was appreciative for, because when he started singing I felt like I was going to swoon.

His voice was... perfect, in lack of a better word. It was smooth and hit every note perfectly. Whenever he went for the big notes, it would get this faint raspiness to it that could have made any girl fall in love with him. Not to mention the song was about a girl, but not just some sort of boring love song, it was something about a daughter and how he didn't know what was going to happen, but his love is endless and I just wanted to melt then and there.

And that's how it continued for the next hour or so. He sang songs about love and heartbreak and family and friends. There was even this funny song about politics that I nearly died laughing because it would say all these terrible things about the government, but they were so clever that anyone who wasn't really caught up in the news wouldn't have gotten it. My hot chocolate was finished, but I just sat there waiting for him to never finish. But all good things must come to an end and that's what I didn't want.

"Thanks for coming out and listening. I'm working on a CD right now so I'll be back in a while to release it. Have a great day everyone!" He waved and the entire coffee shop applauded before going back to talking or working. A few people went up to Timothy and praised him, but there weren't really any girls. I suppose it was because he wasn't very attractive, but I didn't care. When the posse was gone, I got up to talk to him.

"Hi," I said as he turned away from putting his guitar in its case and looked at me. He almost looked surprised to see a girl in front of him.

"Hi." His feet shifted, almost nervously, as he watched me.

"That was really great, you have an amazing talent," I told him and I watched his face light up. The nervousness dissipated when I complimented him.

"I've been working really hard, I'm so glad you enjoyed it. Your name was..."

"Talia, sorry," I said, sticking my hand out for him to shake it. He smiled warmly as he shook my hand. His hand seemed large and manly and it didn't seem right with the rest of his appearance.

"Very nice to meet you, Talia."

"You too. Your music really was wonderful, I hope that EP comes out soon because I want to buy it." Timothy laughed and his laugh definitely didn't match his look.

"Well, that's one sold, so thank you again."

"No problem. Were those all originals?"

"They were, yeah, it's a painful process, but I'm happy to say they're all mine."

"Painful?"

"Well, yeah, you write ten songs and then scrap half of them because they sound too similar to one artist or it doesn't make sense or it doesn't flow with the rest of the album and it's just such an ordeal!" He groaned overdramatically, flinging his head back, making his fedora fall off. He looked panicked for a second as he went down quickly and picked it up. He ran his fingers through his dark blond hair, pushing the longer pieces back away from his forehead as he placed the hat over all his hair. I scowled again. The more I looked at him and watched him, nothing seemed to add up. His hair looked styled underneath the weird hat, his body looked built under the ugly clothes, and his performance was flawless compared to how he acted when he wasn't singing.

"This dumb hat. My friend sat on it and now it doesn't fit right," he explained, but it didn't look like somebody sat on it. Oh, stop it, Talia, you're turning into such a skeptic!

"Don't you just hate that?"

"Ugh, it's the worst. Maybe if I get that record deal, I can buy a new one."

"I'm sure you will. It really was an excellent performance," I told him and he smiled again. My phone buzzed with a new text as Eva was telling me she was off work and on her way home. "But I do have to go. I'm expecting that EP!" I announced, making my way towards the door.

"It'll come, I promise! Nice talking to you, Talia!" I waved a final goodbye and made my way out of The Pearl and towards the subway to go home.

-

Eva was excited about something when I got home. When I first saw her, I thought she got a promotion or something, but then she was charging towards me with a magazine.

"Oh my gosh Tal! You'd never believe it! I can't even believe it. This is the best day of my life."

"What happened exactly? You got married? Promoted? Won a free cheeseburger?" She glared at my faux-enthusiasm and I smiled.

"No. Thank you very much. Turn to page 17," she said, throwing me the magazine. I flipped it open until I saw a one page article about a musician named Braden Crew, also known as the musician Jess was in love with. I eyed Eva before I read the article. It was something about how his musical career was launching and he was moving to New York to record and debut his second album.

"Okay, why is this important?"

"Because my favorite artist is moving here! I could meet him and we could fall in love and it would be so perfect," Eva said, taking the magazine back and clutching it to her heart.

"Wait," I said, trying to hold back laughter. "You cannot actually like this guy's music."

"What do you mean?"

"You think his music is good?" I questioned her slowly.

"It's catchy. And he's hot. I see no fault in this plan." She crossed her arms in the typical older sister fashion as if she dared me to disagree.

"Eva. His music is terrible. You're smarter than falling for some guy's looks. Aren't you a little old to be fangirling?"

"It's my guilty pleasure, leave me alone. Besides it's not like I'll actually get to meet him. But if I do... I'm kidnapping him so he'll marry me."

"I'm pretty sure he's a child."

"He's only a year younger than me, that's nothing."

I rolled my eyes at her and muttered, "You're such a cougar," as I took off my coat and started heading towards my room.

"What was that?" She asked, knowing full well what I actually said.

"Nevermind. How was work?" I asked her instead, not caring about this Braden Crew guy. Sure, I heard his stuff and it was good for generic pop music, but it wasn't anything I'd be in love with. Now, that Timothy Bartholomew guy. He was something I'd want to have playing all day long.

"Good, good. By the way, when do you start at Close Up?" Eva started pulling out lasagna for dinner. How she knew I was craving that, I have no idea.

"Monday," I told her, not fully realizing what that meant.

"Monday?" She whipped around staring at me. "You mean tomorrow?"

My face froze as I stared at Eva in horror. "What am I gonna wear?"

Her eyes narrowed as if taking on a great challenge.

"Alright," she said, cracking her knuckles. "We got a girl to remake."

----------------------------------

HEY sorry that took awhile, I got caught up in school and my birthday (heeyyyyyyyy I'm twenty, this is freaking me out).

What do you think of Timothy Bartholomew? And I definitely wrote this scene right after class at my Bible college so, yes, Biblical names kinda seeped into my writing. I love Timothy so much. He's such an awkward sweetie with a wee bit of coolness. I want to be his friend.

You know the drill! Comment, vote, share, and I love you all!

Stay classy,

- Kate