MSPA (Completed)

Nobody really knew me. I didn't speak that much. But it all changed when I auditioned for the MSPA. I had a dream that had kept me going. A dream to be the best songwriter in the world. It kept me going. Made me stay by my foster parents. It made me survive all the things my foster parents had ever did to me and all the things they were about to do. I was broken... And the people who surrounded me had to fix me...

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8. Chapter 7

Camile's P.O.V.

"Can I have a ticket to New York, please?" The woman behind the desk nods and hands me one.

"You're flight leaves in 10 minutes. You're just in time." She tells me. I say a quick thank you and walk away.

"CAMILE! CAMILE! DON'T GO! PLEASE, DON'T GO!" I hear somebody scream. It isn't one person, it are 5 persons. While I walk towards the security guards. Somebody pulls my jacket.

"Please Camile. I didn't mean it. You are an amazing singer and songwriter. Please I'm sorry." It is Harry who says it. Why can't he understand that I'm sick of it. I'm sick of people telling me what I can and can't do. They always tell me that I'm ugly, worthless, that I don't deserve to live. I want to be myself, I want to stop being afraid of what people might say about my actions. I want people to stop judging me on my looks, my story and how I act. Is it so hard to stop judging on me? To stop judging on what you see? On what you know?

"Harry let go of me." I tell him. My jacket slips out of his fingers. My suitcase is in my hands as I walk through the guards and on the plane. A new life is all I can think about. But half way through the flight the lads pop into my mind. I see the hurt on their faces again. I see the tears in Louis' eyes in front of me. Why did he cry? Wasn't me leaving them al they wanted? A song pops into my mind and I write it down in my book.

'Tell Me A Lie'

Can't ever get it right
No matter how hard I try
And I've tried


Well, I put up a good fight
But your words cut like knives
And I'm tired
As you break my heart again this time

Tell me I'm a screwed up mess
That I never listen, listen
Tell me you don't want my kiss
That you need your distance, distance
Tell me anything but don't you say he's what you're missing baby
If he's the reason that you're leaving me tonight
Spare me what you think and
Tell me a lie


Well you're the charming type
That little twinkle in your eye
Gets me every time

And well there must have been a time
I was the reason for that smile
So keep in mind
As you take what's left of you and I


Tell me I'm a screwed up mess
That I never listen, listen
Tell me you don't want my kiss
That you need your distance, distance
Tell me anything but don't you say he's what you're missing baby
If he's the reason that you're leaving me tonight
Spare me what you think and
Tell me a lie

Tell me a lie... Tell me a lie... Tell me a lie...

Tell me I'm a screwed up mess
That I never listen, listen
Tell me you don't want my kiss
That you need your distance, distance
Tell me anything but don't you say he's what you're missing baby
If he's the reason that you're leaving me tonight
Spare me what you think and
Tell me a lie

Tell me a lie... Tell me a lie... Tell me a lie...

Tell me a lie

 

The song turns out different than I thought it would be, but it's good. Why do I still write songs for them? It's not like they would sing them, is it? My phon rings, interupting my thoughts. It is Simon.

Si: Where are you Camile? The boys told me you got on a plane? Where are you going to?

Cam: I'm on a plane to New York Simon. They said that I couldn't sing, that I wasn't the right songwriter for them. That I couldn't even write songs. It hurts. They judge me even though they don't know me.

Si: I can't tell you what to do and I know you think that this is the only option left, but it isn't. You told me once you were tired of running away. And right know you are running again. Maybe this is the best option, but don't stop writing for them please. They need your songs. Maybe you can be their mystery songwriter.

Cam: You are right, I am tired of running, but I'm also tired people telling me what to do. I'm going to be fine Simon. I wont stop writing, ' cause for a strange reason I can't. I'll sent de songs to you. Thank you Simon for everything you have ever done for me. But right now it is time to stand on my own legs and hold my head high. I'm going to be fine, tell the lads I forgive them, but that I'm not coming back. It's my time to shine.

 

And with that I hang up. My new life has just began and nothing is going to stop me. A few hhours later I'm alone on the airport of New York. I have nowhere to go to. Maybe this wasn't the best option. I walk with my bag to the door when I get a text.

 

Go to NYU. A guy called Moose and a girl called Camile will take care of you. I know them and they are okay. You can trust them. Simon

 

Even when I'm not around Simon looks out for me. His text came just in time. I walk out of the airport to a taxi.

"Take me to NYU, please." He nods and tries to hide his laugh. Why was he laughing.

"I'm sorry sir, but could you tell me what is so funny?" He laughs some more before answering.

"Your accent is funny miss, you're not from America, are you?" I shook my head. Maybe an hour later we arrive.

"That is 50 dollars miss." A guy with curly hair walks towards us and hands the driver the money. The driver takes it, taps his hat and goes away. The curly haired boy makes me think of Harry, of how he apologized. I should have stayed. Even though I didn't know them that good I missed them. And when the boy opened his arms for a hug I fell into them. What have I done? Leaving the people who cared for me, because I was to blind to see that. The hug of the boy reminded me of Niall's hugs. Warm, tight, but soft at the same time. Tears fell from my eyes. How could I be so stupid. I had to go back. But I also had to be myself. And that was were I should be working on... When the boy let go of me a girl wrapped me in another hug. 

"It's all going to be okay." She whispered in my ear. It was so nice of her to say, but it wouldn't be okay. I was broken at the start, and now... Now I had left a piece of my heart behind in England. And unless I was going back to get it, it would always stay there...

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