“Right…right…m’kay….yeah….alright, I’ll talk to more about it tomorrow, then,” I exhale as I speak to my manager Simon on the phone, rolling my eyes as he finally end the call. I pinch the bridge of my nose and bring my phone down from my ear, my eyes glancing at the top left corner.

12:01am. Fuck.

You and I were invited to a fairly large New Year’s Eve party tonight in LA by some friends. It’s been a wonderful evening so far, honestly. Drinking, laughing, music, dancing, food, and so on. But about 45 minutes ago my phone had started ringing with Simon calling from London. You’d given me that one look and I reassured you a million times it wouldn’t take long, before I came into one of the spare rooms upstairs to get away from the noise.

Apparently, I should’ve known Simon better.

I completely lost track of how long it had actually been, and I can only imagine how ticked you are right now, especially since I missed the countdown and midnight kiss you were so excited about. It likely doesn’t help that this isn’t the first time Simon or work have disrupted our time together, leaving me to do damage control.