stormyoceanblue:
Ocean wasn’t sure if the guy at the table next to him was talking to him, but when he looked around, Ocean didn’t see anyone else. I think maybe he’s just talking to anyone, he thought, and then You don’t have to reply. But then he thought what the old Ocean would do, the Ocean from before, and he would have said something. So that’s what current Ocean decided to do as well: “You write songs?” Ocean asked, looking up from his chemistry homework that he’d been working on. “That’s cool. Are you a musician or singer or something?”
“Aspiring musician I suppose you can say.” Ollie said and shrugged his shoulders lightly. “I was recently scouted out by some music producer for a record label and he said i was good enough to be on an album, so, I gave it a shot and now I just gotta wait and see if he’s gonna love what I’ve done enough to put it on an actual album.” Ollie said, and that part was terrifying because who the fuck knew how one person would feel about something that he felt was absolute perfection.
