OK, I haven't posted anything for a while because... well, lots of reasons, but partly because I'm now studying for my GCSE exams. However, as English is one of those exams, I thought I may as well load this Assignment on here now it's been marked. It's actually from an idea I have for a film and it has been copyrighted. Enjoy!

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A Day To Remember

by The-Truth-Will-Strike-You-Down

What a complete pig! Mae thought as she sat huddled in an armchair by the fire, working her way through the wine and chocolates she had bought for Steve's birthday. Her mascara had dissolved into twin rivers down her cheeks, her face, a blotchy red, clashing unpleasantly with her green eyes.

Pushing back her dark hair with one hand, she glanced down at the two tickets for Alton Towers she was holding, and fresh tears coursed hot and wet down her face.

Leaning forwards, she made as if to throw the tickets among the hungry flames, but seemed to think better of it. Instead she reached out, placed them on a side table and switched on the radio. The chorus of Bonnie Tyler's Holding Out For A Hero blasted out.

"I need a hero-"

Mae lashed out and slammed the "Off" button so violently that the radio toppled over backwards as she sobbed with renewed vigour.

How could he? The cheating sod, the lying bastard!

She crammed another handful of chocolates into her mouth, washing it down with a swig of wine, straight from the bottle.

Suddenly, with a nasty free-fall sensation in her stomach, Mae remembered she had a meeting the next day.

Damn, damn, damn! She thought as, with great physical and mental effort, she hauled herself out of the chair and staggered towards her bedroom.

I hate working on Saturdays…

Mae lifted her head off her pillow, leaving a face-print in mascara. Rolling over, she got up and went into the bathroom. Turning on the light, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and nearly screamed.

The thing staring back at her was clearly a panda with a bird's nest on its head.

After showering, brushing her hair and applying just enough make-up to restore her to humanity, Mae grabbed a croissant for breakfast and went out.

It was already ten-o-clock by the time she was walking along her favourite street.

An hour till my meeting, she thought, and had just decided to buy a magazine and read it over a coffee when glancing up she saw-

Steve! Walking towards her along the pavement!

Mae felt her throat constrict with emotion, but he hadn't noticed her yet. She lowered her head to hide her face and started to cross the road, trying to blink away the tears that were blurring her vision.

She was more than halfway across when she heard a shout from behind her. Before she had time to glance round, someone cannoned into her, pushing her out of the road. She heard a car horn and looked back in time to see a big, shiny Range Rover travelling at speed pass where she had been, moments before. Gasping, she stared after the car, barely registering the man's voice.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. Thanks," she said, vaguely, still a little breathless. At last Mae looked up at the man. He was slightly taller than her, with brown hair and piercing blue eyes that were gazing right into hers, a look of concern on his face.

He was GORGEOUS.

"Thank you!" she added, this time with fervour, "You saved my life!" She blushed with the realisation of what a cheesy thing that was to say.

He smiled and Mae was glad he still had his hands on her arms, steadying her, as she suddenly felt weak at the knees.

"Don't worry, anyone would have done the same,"

It was only now she was paying attention Mae noticed the Scottish inflection in his voice.

"Can I buy you a coffee?" she blurted out, then realising how blunt that had sounded, backtracked furiously. "I mean, I was just going to get a coffee and I thought maybe you'd…" She floundered. He was still smiling and it was not helping her concentration. "I mean, it'd be the least I could do," she finished, lamely.

"I'd love one,"

Mae returned his smile, relieved. They set off towards a nearby café.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he added.

"Yes, fine, thanks," Mae replied and she was glad of an excuse to feel a little unsteady.

In the café, he carried the drinks over to a table by the window as Mae put away her wallet, and they sat down. He passed one to her and somehow she managed not to drop it when their fingers brushed. She sipped the hot, strong liquid, conscious of his eyes on her as he did the same. He lowered his drink and held out his hand.

"I'm James, by the way. James Maginot,"

"Mae Charles," said Mae, shaking it.

"As in the merry month of…?"

"No, actually, as in Mae West," she said, with a grimace.

"How thoughtful of your parents!" James laughed ironically.

"James Maginot… I'm sure I've heard that somewhere…"

"Really?" He sipped his coffee.

Something in Mae's mind clicked into place.

"Are you a musician?" she asked.

"Yes, I play the piano,"

"That's where I've seen it! You're playing jazz at The Line, aren't you?"

"Yeah, that's right,"

"When is that?" she enquired.

"Tonight, actually. Eight-o-clock, if you're interested. Not that I'm boasting, or advertising or anything,"

Mae laughed.

"And if you like jazz, that is…"

Mae feigned a scandalised look.

"Who doesn't like jazz?!"

It was James's turn to laugh.

"…And it just got better from there!" Mae told her friend over the phone later that day. "I'm telling you, Jess, we like the same music, same authors, same kinds of books, same films, it's amazing!"

"Wow, so what's his name again? Mr. Right was it?" Jess teased.

"Jess!"

"So are you going to this concert tonight?"

"It's not a concert, he's just playing at The Line,"

"That's a restaurant!"

"It's a casual restaurant,"

"Whatever. Are you going?"

Mae bit her lip.

"I don't know."

"Why not? Go for it!"

"You really think I should?"

"Of course! He sounds really cool."

"I'll think about it."

"Oh fine! Be like that," Jess chuckled, "Listen, I have to dash. Michael's going crazy, I said I'd only be five minutes. But ring me and tell me how it goes!"

"Alright, bye!"

Mae looked around her living room. What was keeping her here? She looked at her watch. Seven.

Oh to heck with it, it's worth going just to see! After all, he did invite me, didn't he?

She noticed the Alton Towers tickets still on the side table and on an impulse picked them up and put them in her bag.

Mae walked into The Line restaurant at five minutes to eight.

"Table for two, please?" she said to a waitress. Alright, that was optimistic, but if he came to talk to her during a break and had nowhere to sit, that would just be awkward, wouldn't it?

As she was shown to her seat, she glanced up at the raised area in one corner that was the stage. A saxophonist was practising, two men were sitting and talking with a young woman. The piano was at the side, but as of yet there was no sign of James.

Mae ordered a glass of wine and began to read the menu. She didn't notice when the background music was switched off, or when a double bass began play. There was a lull in the general noise of conversation, though by this time Mae was trying to figure out what the difference between an hors-d'oeuvre and an entrée might be. What caught her attention in the end was the sound of an elaborate piano improvisation. She looked up.

There he was, eyes closed as the intricate stream of notes flowed from his fingers with no apparent effort, as though he were part of the instrument. She watched, mesmerised, as he played. At last the solo came to an end and he fell seamlessly into a set melody as the young woman stepped up to a microphone and began to sing the opening verse of Fever. James opened his eyes and looked straight at Mae, smiling.

James approached her table at the interlude.

"Thanks for coming."

Mae looked up at him and smiled.

"The music's fantastic. You're playing all the songs I love!"

"Really?"

"Mm hm, have a seat,"

He pulled out a chair. A waitress approached and he asked for a glass of Chardonnay. She left and returned a minute later with the wine.

"You look incredible," he said to Mae, gesturing to the long, dazzling, black dress she was wearing.

"Thank you," she looked down, trying hard not to go red. All of a sudden, she remembered the tickets in her bag and looked back up at him; "Listen, this might sound just a little bit crazy, but are you doing anything tomorrow?"


OK, that's it! This has been edited from the original version, it's had some parts cut, but I still like it. I got 96 percent for it from my tutor! It has been corrected since then. Please, don't forget to review. You don't have to be signed in or even registered. Thanks!

The-Truth-Will-Strike-You-Down