“Hello. Ooo who’s birthday is it?” One of the boys smiled. He had dimples and a million dollar smile to match.

“It’s out friends birthday. Our 2 other lads are going to get him to surprise him with his favorite restaurant, Sharpღ.” His voice was a deep, huskyBritish accent. I nodded.

“Well, what can I get you guys today.” The other boy spoke,

“Can I get everything on this menu?” He had an Irish accent.

“Ugh! Really? Again, Ni?” The third boy shook his head. He had a different British accent. He must be from Bradford. The Irish, Cheeky, and Bradford. Wow, been standing here for a good 3 minutes and I already gave them nick names.

“Genesis! Hurry up! The first birthday song needs to be sung soon!” My boss shook his head, annoyingly. I nodded his way.

“Okay, the whole menu it is then?” I ask them. They nodded.

“Drinks?”

“Can we get…Um, five packs of beer? That will be all thank you, Genesis.” I smiled, and nodded. I went back to the Kitchen and gave the chief my two table orders. I walked over to the stage in front of the whole restaurant. I sat on the edge of the stage, and tuned my acoustic guitar. I have memories with this thing. It was a small one, it looks as if it was carved out of a tree and beautifully hand made. It had an Orange dog paw on it to represent Ed Sheeran and his amazingness! And I engraved my name in it. I finally got It tuned and sat it on its stand, for when it’s time to start. As I got up, Chey ran over to me.

“Genesis!” She bent down and caught her breath. She is tall and skinny, so how in the world does she have to catch her breathe….when run at least 5 feet to me?

“Okay, you will not believe who you’re singing for!” I thought hard.

“Michael Jordan?”

“Nope.”

“Paris Hilton.?”

“Um, no.”

“Sasha Pieterse?”

“Ugh! No.”

“Chord Overstre-“

“No! You’re the worse fucking guesser known to mankind!” She shook her head.

“Then, who is it?” She smiled. The light’s dimmed down, and the stage lights were on.

“You’re just going to have to find out.” She took of my apron and pushed me towards the stage. I smiled at everyone.

“Well, I heard that a special someone’s 23 birthday was today. So, why don’t we have him sit on the….” The crowd finished my sentence for me.

“BIRTHDAY STOOL!” Everyone clapped. I sat down on my chair, and grabbed my guitar.

“I like your guitar. It kind of looks like mine.” I felt the birthday boy, (I can tell by his voice.) sit in the stool next to me.

“Awe, thank you. I got it when I was 13. Then I went to an Ed Sheeran concert when I was 16 and-“ I looked at beautiful blue eyes, my breath hitched.

“And?” He pushed on.

“And I got a free Ed Sheeran hoodie and sticker.” He smiled.

“Well, I’m glad you got my merchandise.” Ed winked. I.Can’t.Breathe. Ed.Sheeran.Oh.Dear. I looked and saw my sisters looking at me, big smiles on their face. Well, Annie’s was a smile, She was standing by- woah! Niall Horan. This day just got better. Cheyenne’s not such a smile on her face. She was standing by Cheeky boy which is no other than Harry Styles, and she looked annoyed while he tried to get her attention. I looked back at Ed Sheeran.

“Well, it is your birthday. What do you want me to sing?” He thought for a sec.

“Can you rap?” I smirked.

“Yes.” He spoke into the microphone this time.

“You need me, I don’t need you.” Everyone was quiet. I smiled.

“Deal.” I hand him my guitar for him to play, while I sing.


“Now I’m in town, break it down, thinking of making a new sound
Playing a different show every night in front of a new crowd
That’s you now, ciao, seems that life is great now
See me lose focus, as I sing to you loud
And I can’t, no, I won’t hush
I’ll say the words that make you blush
I’m gonna sing this now

See, I’m true, my songs are where my heart is
I’m like glue, I stick to other artists
I’m not you, now that would be disastrous
Let me sing and do my thing and move to greener pastures
See, I’m real, I do it all, it’s all me
I’m not fake, don’t ever call me lazy
I won’t stay put, give me the chance to be free
Suffolk sadly seems to sort of suffocate me

‘Cause you need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you at all
You need me, man, I don’t need you

I sing and write my own tune and I write my own verse
Hell, don't need another word-smith to make my tune sell
Call yourself a singer-writer - you’re just bluffing
Your name’s on the credits and you didn’t write nothing
I sing fast, I know that all my shit’s cool
I will blast and I didn’t go to Brit School
I came fast with the way I act, right
I can’t last if I’m smoking on a crack pipe-“ I could see Annie and Niall in the front with the other boys and Chey and Harry. They were cheering for me.

“And I won’t be a product of my genre
My mind will always be stronger than my songs are
Never believe the bullshit that fake guys feed to ya
Always read the stories that you hear on Wikipedia
And musically I’m demonstrating
When I perform live, feels like I am meditating
Times at the Enterprise when some fella filmed me
‘A young singer-writer like Gabriella Cilmi’

‘Cause you need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you
You need me, man, I don’t need you, at all
You need me, man, I don’t need you

'Cause with the lyrics I’ll be aiming it right
I won’t stop 'til my name's in lights
At stadium heights with Damien Rice
On red carpets, now I’m on Arabian Nights
Because I’m young I know my brother's gonna give me advice
Long nighter, short height and I gone hyper
Never be anything but a singer-songwriter, yeah.
The game's over but now I’m on a new level
Watch how I step on the track without a loop pedal
People think that I’m bound to blow up
I’ve done around about a thousand shows
But I haven’t got a house plus I live on a couch
So you can be the lyrics when I’m singing them out, wow
From day one, I’ve been prepared
With vo5 wax for my ginger hair
So now I’m back to the sofa, giving a dose of what the future holds
'Cause it’s another day
Plus I'll keep my last name forever keep the genre pretty basic
Gonna be breaking into other people’s tunes when I chase it
And replace it with the elephant in the room with a facelift
Into another rapper's shoes using new laces
I'm selling CD's from my rucksack aiming for the papers
Selling CD's from my rucksack aiming for the majors
Nationwide tour with just jack, still had to get the bus back
Clean cut kid without a razor for the mustache
I hit back when the pen hurts me
I’m still a choir boy in a Fenchurch tee
I’m still the same as a year ago
But more people hear me though
According to the MySpace and YouTube videos
I’m always doing shows if I’m not I’m in the studio
Truly broke, never growing up call me Ruffio
Melody music maker
Reading all the papers
They say I’m up and coming like I'm fucking in an elevator .” I stopped there. Every one clapped.

“HAPPY BIRHTDAY ED SHEERAN!” I yelled in the Microphone. He said thank you.

We smiled at each other I had a feeling that this was going to be a start of a new friendship.

Notes

*A/N*
Here we go, Chapter 2 :) hope you like it!
Tell me what you think PLZZZz:)