"You are such a dumbass."

I was more than inclined to agree with Corbin. 

He was the more talented and intelligent of the two of us, after all. 

"I see nothing wrong with your previous statement."

"No, seriously.  Like, the biggest dumbass I've ever met.  And don't forget asshole, either.  You take the fucking cake for the asshole title.  Congratulations, you're the world's biggest asshole.  Now that you've won, are you gonna take yourself to Disney World?  Come on, man.  Really?"

The drumming of rain against the roof of Corbin's brownstone almost drowned out the ping of my phone alerting me to a text that I glanced down to check. 

"Oh, great.  And now you're ignoring me to get on your phone, too."

"Shut up, it might be something about Bree."

Corbin didn't respond as he shuffled off the couch we'd been lounging on in his studio and moved to the mixing board to play around with a new track someone had sent him. 

"Oh..."

"What is it?"

"It was Ivy.  She told me that she was going to come by earlier than four.  She said she's already on her way..."

"Ivy Bennett, as in the same Ivy Bennett whose song you stole as yours and now is going to be co-writing your entire album with you?  This should be interesting.  You know, I've been wanting to meet this girl who has so much talent that made you completely forget all reason and your entire fucking mind to steal her demo in the first place."

"Well, I wouldn't have had to steal it if you'd kept the USB in the envelope it came in that had all her information on it!"

"Hey, it's not my fault they didn't attach their contact info on the USB.  That's like, standard practice for demos now, it's all done online.  That or emails with audio files attached, which automatically give you a way to contact them back.  You just hit that little reply button and bam!  Immediate response guaranteed!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever.  I just need to figure out a good melody and chords for this song we were talking about last night and start recording my vocals for the first song."

"The song you stole."

"Yes, Corbin.  The song I stole.  Can we please start calling it something different, please?  It has a name you know?"

"Yeah, but 'the song you stole' has a great ring to it, don't you think?"

"Now who's the asshole?" I asked under my breath. 

"I heard that.  And it's still you.  Definitely you."

The door buzzed and I almost jumped completely out of my skin at the sound.  That sound meant trouble was here. 

Trouble in the version of a ten-out-of-ten knockout beauty that went by the name of Ivy Bennett.

I scrambled up out of my chair and dashed to the front door quicker than Corbin could, and the sound of rain pelting the asphalt assaulted my eardrums a moment before I swung the large wooden door open and left my mouth gaping open at the sight before me. 

Ivy stood there hiding under what little shelter the awning above the front door offered on the top steps of Corbin's brownstone, shivering and drenched in rainwater that slid down her skin and conformed the tight silk material dress to the lush curves of her body. 

My eyes must've popped out of my skull.  Surely this wasn't real life. 

Her fire red hair had deepened to a mahogany auburn that clung to the side of her face in curled ringlets while smudges of eye makeup created a trail down her cheeks that almost looked like tear marks but were clearly from the rain. 

Large, expressive green eyes met mine and for a moment it was like the storm around us wasn't exploding through the atmosphere with lightning strikes and claps of thunder that had come from out of nowhere on an otherwise cloudless day. 

Horns honking and pedestrians screeching as cars drenched them on the sidewalks with splashes of water from the faulty drainage system on the streets faded into the background and even the thump of bass from Corbin's newest song he was producing turned into white noise as Ivy stood before me, a wet shivering mess of beauty and staring back at me with a sense of awe and wonder and half confusion like she was wondering herself what the hell she was doing there to begin with. 

"Are you going to let me in?"

She almost had to shout over the crashing of thunder and the slam of thousands of raindrops colliding with the pavement and houses and cars all around us. 

Her words shocked me out of my reverie and I angled my body to the side as she stepped forward, arms crossed over her chest as she ambled through the doorway. 

Electricity that didn't come from the lightning arcing a forked pattern across the charcoal sky sizzled between the two of us as her arm brushed across mine, forcing chills to race along my spine and for every hair on my body to stand at attention. 

She sucked in a sharp breath, making me wonder if I'd simply made up that interaction between us, but then she was turned to face me in that narrow little passage between the foyer and the doorway, her body so small and fragile as I looked down on her.  Why hadn't I noticed how much shorter she was than I?

Was it because of the massive high heels she'd been wearing the one and only time we'd seen each other?

"Sorry I'm early."

Her voice was off.  There was some kind of emotion strangling the soft voice that I'd come to agonize over in the dead of night, reliving every awful thing she's said to me and about me directly to my face.  

This was different; something had happened, and I had a feeling it wasn't just her being upset that she'd been rained on. 

"Why did you come early?  I thought you had something to do today."

"Yeah, well, plans change.  Can you lead the way?"

A huge shiver wracked her body and I pointed forward toward the room Corbin used as his studio before grabbing my sweatshirt off the coat rack and having her follow after me. 

"Here, you look like you need this."

I didn't look back at her as I handed her the hoodie.

"Thanks.  I forgot my umbrella.  It wasn't raining when I dropped my car back at campus."

"Oh, you took a taxi here?"

"Yeah, my dad can track my car."

And that was that.  No explanation as to why her father would want to monitor her so closely as an adult clearly over eighteen.  She had said she was a sophomore, so that made her, what, nineteen?  Almost twenty maybe?  

If she was nineteen, then I was only three years older than her, though I hadn't gone to college.  I wasn't on the track for college, not like it seemed like I was missing out on much.  Maybe I'd go back to school if my music didn't pan out, although considering how much my career was blowing up, it wasn't looking like it was going to stop its trajectory any time soon. 

If anything, the reports of my 'violent streak' had only made the media frenzy even more desperate for more information from me, more content for my music, just...more. 

They wanted their pound of flesh and then some.  I wasn't going to give them anything more than I wasn't willing to part with, though, and that included my personal privacy. 

It was why Corbin's official headquarters were based somewhere further in the city.  We recorded at his personal studio to escape the photographers. 

"Um—"

"Ignore me, I don't know why I told you that.  Anyway, is this where we'll be working?"

"Yeah, this is my producer's home studio, we prefer it to his office where other artists would be so we can have more privacy and a more laid back vibe to write in.  Less pressure."

I kept my gaze on her from the corner of my eye as she took in the brownstone around her, noting the newly installed wallpaper that covered once peeling paint and mid-century modern decor mixed with an industrial feel that had turned this place from a property into a home. 

Corbin wasn't rich by any means, but he wasn't in a financial bind.  If he were, I'd just pay him more for his services and not take no for an answer.  I had more money than I knew what to do with sometimes, and if my friends needed help, I was going to do everything in my power to make sure that they got it. 

Ivy turned to me in front of the door to the studio that I'd closed in my rush to open the door for her and I didn't waste any time opening it for her this time. 

"Corbin, this is Ivy.  Ivy, this is Corbin, my sound engineer, producer, friend, all of the above."

Corbin was struck stupid at the sight of Ivy in front of him.  It was like he'd never seen a woman before in his damn life—and he was married to one. 

"I'm sorry—I just...of all the people you could've stolen a demo from..."

I ground my teeth so hard I could've sworn Ivy could hear it from where she stood a few feet away from me.

Corbin couldn't choke down the laugh that I knew was bubbling up inside him.  

Here we go again. 

"What?  Is that supposed to be an insult?"

A little bit more of the fire that had been dulled in Ivy's eyes flared back up with a vengeance, but I could already see Corbin backtracking. 

"No no no, if anything I'm insulting him.  You are definitely a sight for sore eyes down here in my sad little studio room."

"It's better than my dorm that's for damn sure."

Corbin's mouth hooked up into a bright smile and I could only shake my head.  Ivy was going to be in for it with this one. 

My fucking mouth watered as she lifted her hands up and slid the sweatshirt onto her body over her soaked dress and Corbin caught me staring but I only flipped him off if only to keep myself from looking back at her and staring again at her body, those beautiful lines and curves and—

oh fuck, I was staring again.

"Shit, I forgot.  I have to book it to Lianna's piano practice down the road.  You two kids going to be okay in here for a few hours?  I would've been here the whole time when I thought you were going to be here at four but..." he trailed off, looking guiltily at Ivy who only shrugged in response after fluffing her hair with her fingers and brushing it out slightly. 

"It's cool.  It was nice to meet you.  I don't know if I'll still be here when you get back, though, I usually can write a song pretty fast."

"You won't be the only one writing, though," I reminded her. 

"Yeah well you clearly have no problem adding your own lyrics after the fact so I don't see why you'd need me here for that anyway."

Corbin's dark eyebrows rose up high into his receding hairline but he refused to comment on what she'd just said.  And so did I. 

There was no point antagonizing the girl that was going to help me with my writer's block that I'd been dreading trying to crawl my way out of in the first place. 

In a roundabout kind of way, stealing her song and screwing myself out of the entirety of my royalties on my album had actually been just what I needed to get the album finished in the first place. 

But staring at Ivy's face, makeup smeared like some kind of goddamned artist's masterpiece from the rain and set in a permanent scowl as she said goodbye to Corbin and turned to me, I was beginning to wonder if I'd survive it once it was all said and done.

Fuck, what had I gotten myself into this time?

***

Author's Note:

What did you think of this chapter?

I was on a break for Memorial Weekend but I'm back now!

What do you think will happen next?

What do you WANT to happen next?

Until next time my lovely readers,
Kristen :)