(Ryan’s P.O.V.)

My drive this morning consisted of going to Starbucks, buying my normal Iced Caramel Latte, stopping by my old hometown cafe, Bj's, and getting to-go biscuits and gravy, and arriving at the studio I'll be working at with my assigned songwriter. My jaw clenches. I feel as if I'm gonna have my day turned upside down quickly. I walk into the double doors to the studio and bump into a scarlet-red haired girl handling a Butter beer Frappuccino. I look at her and say "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry, did I get any of it on you?"

She moves her head and looks at me stammering "No, y-you d-i- Ryan? Ryan Brock?" I look at her and say "Lillian, I didn't...are you...are you my songwriter?" Before she gets the chance to answer, a man a little older than I am says "L, you've only been in this studio for half an hour and you are already bumping into your assigned artist." Her lips part and a scowl takes over her features. I say "Nice to meet you Lillian, I'm Ryan."

My Lillian Devyn Scott, working as my assigned songwriter? Never would've guessed it. Not even with the old guitar she kept in our place, or the millions of journals full of her past, slowly transforming into mesmerizing lyrics. She's made it big without me, and here I am, entering back into her life unintentionally. She backs up from me, and stalks away.

I ask the older man "Who are you, sir?" He says "I'm Adam, Adam Blake, your new boss."

My new boss?