Odd One Out

"Good things come to those who wait."
How much longer do I have to wait?

Iris is different. She wants more. She wants to be free.
She wants love.
But no one understands her. Her only escape is through music.
She's the Odd One Out.
And then, she meets Blake...


7. The Beginning

Dear Love,

So someone believes in me.

Well, a middle aged woman. But it's a start.

Does it have something to do with you?

Did you put this strand of hope in my life?

If you did, thank you.


Iris x

I just got an email. I never get emails. Well that's a lie. But the only emails I ever get are those junk ones from websites.

But this one is different.


I didn't forget about what I said on Friday. I hope you haven't either.

I'd really love to get you recorded as soon as possible. I've booked a slot at a local recording studio, BlueRose for next Saturday at 1:30pm. Please don't be late, and make sure to check with your parents soon.

C. Muller.


I stare at my laptop blankly for a minute. Then I blink. Then feel tears stinging the back of my eyes.

My hands shake. I know. I'm making a really big deal out of nothing. But to me, this is something. I slam the laptop lid shut and throw my head back in relief.

Thank you.

I'm already at my spot on the hammock, working on a new song. My best one yet.

Mum comes out the back door with a plate of sandwhiches.

"Since you aren't coming in for dinner, the dinner's coming out for you."

I smile. "Thanks mum."

She smiles back. "What's new, birdie?"

"Oh yeah!" I stare at my tangling fingers. "My music teacher-"
"The young one?"

"Yeah, Mrs Muller, well she's booked me in for a recording session at BlueRose studios next Saturday."

Mum stares at me, and I beam like an idiot.

"That's bloody brilliant!" She bursts, scooping me into her arms. "Finally, my little Iris is making it big!"
"Mum!" I laugh, resting my head on her chest. "I'm only recording a private CD. It's really nothing."

She looks down at me, brushing a stray curl from my forehead.

"Nothing? Iris, this is your beginning."

My beginning?

I watch a robin bounce across the uncut grass.

Maybe it is. Maybe this is the beginning of a long road to somewhere.

The clouds break and spray rain on our heads.

We lie back in the hammock, under the rain and trees, and I keep thinking.

About beginnings, and about love.





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