Can We Dance?

Her names Fae Johnson, 17 year old, some call her a rebel, others say she's an angel, that's a matter of opinion.

However, this isn't Her story. It's mine, Bradley Simpson, Call me Brad. I'm just a normal 18 year old, I break the rules, Stay low profile and write songs.

This time I really messed up when my parents left me home alone last Saturday.
Yet a simple mistake brought me to the attention of a beautiful girl.


3. Naughty Butterflies,

One new message.


That sentence flashed through my mind.


Should I read it? no..but then she might think I'm ignoring her...


Oh well, let risk it.


Hi's fae, the party was great.. haven't really seen you since, come to project X this Friday?x


I replied yes, no way are my parents keeping me in for this. get real.


Sure, what time are you going to be there?x




"Hi," I whispered away from the microphone.


"Hey." She smiled, her eyes digging into mine.


"Here we go again, another drink I'm caving in,"  well, I still had to sing. I grabbed her a drink.

"You're beautiful." I slightly saw her cheeks grow red as I kept singing.

"And stupid words keep falling from my mouth, you know I mean well,"

I grabbed her waist, staring directly into her eyes.

"My hands are meant for somewhere else, your eyes are doing naughty butterflies."  I laughed, seeing her roll her eyes.


I couldn't concentrate on anything else except the music and this girl at this point. she was simply beautiful.


"Oh, Oh, one more drink and I should go," I tossed an empty cup onto the floor.

"oh, oh but maybe she might like me though Oh, oh, I just can't think of what to say,"  I gave her a wink.

"Should I go, should I stay? Just can't let her slip away..." I slipped her hands away from my grasp, returning to stage, before carrying on.

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