[au style] 'cause we find ourselves in the same old mess singing drunken lullabies;

[cendrawasih]

[Journalism hadn't been Ava's first career choice, not really. If she had any say in it, she would have become a professional musician and stayed that way. But somehow, probably in a fit of teenage rebellion, she'd decided to stop playing professionally and go to Brown for journalism.

Nobody understood it. Not even her. But something about it felt right.

She was still relatively new on the reporting scene, but had landed a decent job for Vanity Fair following Edward Stark's campaign trail. She had a feeling it was more because of her name than her ability, but it was something or than cheap advice columns, so she was more than happy to take it.

Campaign trails sucked, though. They definitely weren't all they were cracked up to be, and a small part of her was regretting it. Lots of cheap hotel rooms, cheap food, no sleep, and she still hadn't really gotten to talk to Edward at all.]