Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.

With my eyes closed, I reached out and felt around my bedside table for my alarm clock and only succeeded in knocking the stupid, bleeping thing onto the floor. I groaned and blearily opened my eyes, finally managing to turn the horrible sound off before picking the clock up and placing it back on the table. With that I turned back over and closed my eyes, preparing to go back to sleep.

"Oh, no you don't." A heavy weight suddenly collapsed on top of me, and I grunted in annoyance. "Come on Noelle, it's time to get up."

"Don't want to."

"No one does, so suck it up and get up." My roommate Jess's weight vanished and I opened my eyes to see her rummaging through my wardrobe. "You know this happens every morning. Your annoying-ass alarm wakes us both up, you refuse to get up, I proceed to jump on you and then I choose an outfit for you."

"That's because I'm terrible at choosing what to wear," I mumbled, slowly pushing the duvet off me.

"No, it's because you're too lazy and also because I'm the best roommate in the world." Jess chucked my ripped jeans, a plain black tank top and a long grey cardigan in my direction, and then continued to put on herself a casual dress and jacket.

"Yeah, sure." I eventually stood up and dressed myself before going into the bathroom to slap on some makeup so I looked somewhat decent.

Once we resembled actual human beings, Jess and I headed down to breakfast where I helped myself to eggs, bacon, sausages, the lot, while Jess stuck to a healthy breakfast of scrambled eggs on brown toast. Jess was sort of a health guru – she went running every other evening and only ever ate healthy meals, while I exercised maybe once a week, or once every two weeks and just couldn't resist the temptation of unhealthy foods. She often tried to drag me to the gym but usually I would pretend to exercise rather than actually exercising.

Tristan, Jess's boyfriend, and Nathan, my boyfriend, soon joined us for breakfast. Nathan kissed me on the cheek quickly, muttering a "morning".

"You look happy," I observed a little sarcastically as he sat down next to me with his breakfast.

He rubbed his eyes. "Professor Allen has been up my ass all week about this stupid project, and the deadline was today."

"And you haven't finished it?" I guessed.

"Hell no. I'll just write some stuff down and hope it's okay. It's not due until the afternoon, so I have some time."

Jess opened her mouth to say something, but Nathan interrupted her. "I know what you're going to say. I should have done it the night he set it and got it done, but I'm just not that kind of person."

Jess merely raised her eyebrows and carried on eating.

"What's on for you today?" Nathan asked me, changing the subject.

I shrugged. "I've got one lecture this morning, then my music group thing in the evening."

"You're still doing that?" Nathan said disbelievingly, and I frowned at him.

"Of course. And I enjoy it. It's the one thing I look forward to – except for getting drunk at the weekends."

"You know, lots of alcohol really isn't good for you," Jess interjected, and I rolled my eyes.

"I don't drink lots. I don't drink in the week at all, unless I've had a really crappy day. You should be thankful. I could be like that dude who turns up to lectures drunk."

Jess just shrugged and glanced at Tristan, who hadn't said a word. Mainly I think it was because he wasn't a morning person.

After breakfast, I still had time before my lecture, so Nathan and I hung out outside – him trying to finish his project and me sunning myself despite it being February.

"This is ridiculous," Nathan grumbled, scribbling something out. "Allen never usually sets us projects."

"It's not a group one though, right?" I commented.

"No, but that would be better. This I have to do for that internship in summer."

"The publishing one?" I wrinkled my nose. I couldn't think of anything more boring.

Nathan's mouth twitched. "Yeah."

"Well, you'll be fine. You're great at English."

"Linguistics," he corrected me.

"Well, that too. But I meant actually writing stuff."

Nathan shrugged. "Are you doing an internship somewhere?"

I sighed. "I don't know. I'm not very good at organizing things, so who knows if I'll ever actually get round to it." Although I was studying Philosophy, I was more interested in the music industry. I knew my dad was, too, and he'd wanted me to do a music degree, but somehow I ended up doing screenwriting instead. Probably because I wasn't so good at the theory in music – I only really enjoyed singing and playing the guitar.

"You could probably join the one I'm doing in summer. You're studying Philosophy, surely that's got something to do with English, you know, essays and stuff," Nathan asserted.

"No offence, Nathan, but it sounds very tedious. I'd rather do something to do with the music industry, but... ugh. I don't know."

"You still want to join the music industry?" he said a little pretentiously, and I bit my lip to keep from snapping something back. He continued. "Babe, I just don't think that's going to happen. Besides, you don't even study music, so how will it help you?"

I rolled my eyes. "I just enjoy it, okay?"

"What, like you enjoy that music group?" Nathan snorted.

I clenched my jaw. "Yes, like I enjoy that music group." I began to stand up, brushing myself off. "I've got to get to class. I'll see you later."

"Sure." He didn't even take his eyes off his paper.

I strode off, shaking my head to myself. God, he irritated me sometimes. But he could also be really sweet, and thoughtful as well.

I grabbed a coffee from one of the cafes on the way, sipping it and burning my tongue in the process. Coffee was another thing Jess often chided me about but, as always, I ignored her.

The lecture was particularly boring today, and I amused myself by doodling on some paper while half-listening. Around me, everyone else seemed equally bored – I even noticed someone asleep while her friend next to her took a picture. Another person was watching something online and laughing to himself. Professor Lynch didn't seem to notice or didn't seem to care. My guess was he was as tired as the rest of us.

After the long hour was over, I met with one of my closest friends, George, who went on to tell me about some guy he met last night at the library.

"The library?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "You were at the library?"

"Yes. No need to sound so surprised," he responded haughtily.

"You're never at the library," I pointed out.

"I've been to the library. Once," George defended. "And... I thought I might meet a guy there who was smart and cute. And I did."

I laughed. "So, what's his name? And you're sure he's gay?"

George swatted me. "Yes, I'm sure. And his name's Ross. Totally cute, amazing fashion sense, totally funny and totally smart. And he's a French major. That is so hot."

"Sounds totally like the perfect person for you," I commented, grinning. "Did you get his number?"

"Well – no, but I'll just go back to the library. I can't just ask for his number in our first meeting."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not that sort of person. I need to get to know him better before I can work up the courage to ask something like that."

"George. It's just a phone number," I said, my voice rich with amusement.

"Whatever. You know, it's time you got yourself a guy."

I furrowed my eyebrows at him. "Uh, I have a boyfriend. A perfectly nice, handsome boyfriend."

"Nathan? He doesn't count," George said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

My mouth dropped open. "And why the hell not?"

"You're way too good for him," he remarked. "He used to be such a player. How do you know he's changed his ways?"

I scoffed a little. "George, we're not in high school anymore. Besides, he used to be a player before he met me."

"Noelle, you're super sexy and all even if you're not my type, but I just think you could do better." George shrugged innocently.

"Whatever. I'm happy, so don't rain on my parade," I said sternly. He was about to reply when my phone rang in my pocket. I checked the caller ID and saw it was dad. Frowning, I answered. "Dad. Hey."

"Guess what." He sounded very excited.

"What?" I answered. "And please don't ask me to guess."

"I got you an interview for an internship. At none other than Capitol Records."

I choked on air and George patted me on the back. When I regained my breath, I exclaimed, "Seriously? You're not messing with me?"

"Yes, seriously. You know my cousin, Kate? Well, she works there, and I told her about your interest in the music industry, and that club you're part of and she agreed to get you an interview. No promises you'll get the internship, though."

"Oh my god, thank you so much dad!" I said excitedly. "Wait, so when is the interview?"

"Well, it's a phone interview, and I've arranged a date and time and I gave them your number. It's... this afternoon." I could practically picture dad wincing. "They should call you around five."

"This afternoon," I repeated slowly. "I have like six hours to prepare for an interview for an internship at Capitol Records."

"Plenty of time," dad said cheerfully.

"Wow. Okay. Um. Thanks for getting me the interview, but I've got to go if I want to be ready for it."

"You'll be fine," he assured me. "I'll talk to you later."

"'Kay," I said absentmindedly, and hung up, chewing my thumbnail.

"Did I hear correctly?" George raised an eyebrow. "You've got an interview for an internship at Capitol Records?" When I nodded, George grinned widely. "Oh my god. This is so exciting. Capitol Records! You'll probably meet someone famous. When is it? What are you going to wear? How will you have your hair?"

"George," I interrupted. "It's a phone interview, so it really doesn't matter what I wear or how I'll have my hair."

"What? That's so boring."

"It'll be easier," I decided. "Then they won't see me go all red when I can't answer a question."

"True. Red is so not your color. Oh my god, I am so going to help you prepare." He opened up his laptop and typed something in. "Look, we can go through all these interview questions. Right, I'll be the interviewer." George straightened his collar and asked, "So, Miss Torres. Tell me about yourself."

I raised an eyebrow but answered. "I'm a student at UCLA. I'm studying philosophy, I got a 3.7 GPA at high school, I was student body president and I got one of the leads in the play in the last year of school."

"Jesus, you're a nerd. Who knew?" George grinned at me. "And the lead? Of which play?"

"Grease. I played Rizzo." I smiled as I thought back to the performance of the play.

"That's so cool!" George looked at me with wide eyes. "Who played Kenickie? Was it someone hot?"

"Oh my god, yes. We went out for a bit but he turned out to be kind of a dick. But yes, he was gorgeous," I told him. "Uh, we're kind of going off topic here."

George waved a hand dismissively. "You'll be fine. You've got loads to say about yourself."

"What? No, George, come on, ask me those other questions," I insisted.

"Fine. What are your strengths and weaknesses?"

"Uh... I guess–"

"No. Don't say 'I guess'. Be sure of yourself," George instructed me.

"Okay Mr. Expert. One of my strengths is that I'm very dedicated to my work. When I want something done, I get it done and I get it done quickly. I don't mess around and I'm really determined," I stated firmly.

"Nice. And those things are actually true. Weaknesses?" he questioned.

Where to begin? "I'm very critical of myself. But, I think that just makes me a harder worker."

"You're so going to ace this interview," George said proudly. "Seriously. You don't need to worry about it at all."

"I do," I persisted. "There will probably be loads of people trying for this internship who actually study music."

"Yeah, and they're all going to be the same. You, babe, are different."

I smacked him. "Please don't call me babe."

"Why not? Nathan does."

"Nathan is also my boyfriend. Sure, he's not exactly the most supportive boyfriend in the world..." I muttered, mainly to myself but George heard.

"Wait. Don't tell me Nathan's been giving you crap again for wanting to go into the music industry." He furrowed his eyebrows at me.

I shrugged. "Like, a little bit..." Knowing exactly what he was about to say, I held up a finger. "Don't. I know what you're going to say, and just don't."

George sighed dramatically. "Fine."

The day passed by, and I attended my music group in the afternoon, which was just as fun as it always was. When it got to quarter to five, I went back to my dorm and placed my phone on the table and watched it, waiting for it to ring. The minutes ticked by. My ringtone suddenly blasted out into the silence at four fifty-six, making me jump. Once I calmed myself enough, I answered the phone.