The Flute Player (1)

"Your test results have come back," the doctor said as soon as the door closed. I nervously looked at him, fidgiting.
"And?" My voice was barely audible. I watched him closely as he went behind his desk and to his files. I couldn't see anything in his eyes, his body language didn't suggest anything. I wanted him to hurry. I had a concert to perform in tonight, and I couldn't be late. One Direction was counting on me to play my flute with them.
"I'm sorry, Leah, but the results aren't good." The doctors eyes were sympathetic, and went on to explain the details. I didn't listen. From that moment on, I knew that the dream I was living would come to an end.

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26. Late Night Thinking

Harry's point of view
I threw my shirt into the corner of my room. It hit the wall with force and fell down to the floor. I pulled down my pants and flung them to the other side of my room, leaving me with just my boxers. I took those of too and fell lazily into my overstuffed bed. My legs found the opening for the covers and crawled under. Ahhh... I loved my bed. It was welcoming after being away in America.
I turned over to my night table and opened the bottle of medicine; I had picked it up from the pharmacy because it supposedly helped with jet lag. I washed it down with a cup of warm water before turning onto my back and staring up at my ceiling.
"I have to..." "She's to chicken!" "I want too…" "Let her be!" The mix of Leah's voice and the rude fans came to mind. Did my hugging her do any damage? I hoped not. No, it couldn’t. It was a sign of support, not affection….

“She’s such a looser… she doesn’t deserve you! Let me come on stage instead!” the crowds evil screams came back to me. Yes, it was only a few, but I could hear them, and I knew that Leah could too.

 

Leah’s Point of View

I briskly brushed my teeth and spat out the excess. I didn’t pay much attention to it, but stopped at the blood specks. Great… could this day get any worse? I rinsed the sink and rinsed my mouth until the bleeding stopped and then headed towards the bed. I had been rented a nice basement suite in London, quite close to where Harry lived, so if I needed anything I could literally walk.

As I turned off the lights tears sprung into my eyes. Everyone hated me. I messed up during the song, and I chickened out beforehand. What a looser I was.
 
I snuggled closer into the warmth of the sheets. They were warm, but not the type of warm I was used to. These weren’t my bed sheets from home; they were brand new and still stiff. It didn’t smell right. It didn’t feel like home.

I turned over and sighed once again. America… home… family… friends…. I had left that all behind because I had wanted to get noticed. Was it worth it? I had just chickened out in front of thousands of people… and no doubt that the video would go viral… if it hadn’t already. A tear slid down my cheek. Wouldn’t it be easier just to go home? Forget any of this ever happened? Maybe I wouldn’t have to live with the humiliation anymore. I had already fulfilled my dream, and that was to see One Direction and their girlfriends.

Yes, I thought as I yawned. Maybe I should just go home…

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