Take a Bow

Chasing Fame,
Chasing Love,
Chasing a Future.
Emme, Perrie, Zayn and Niall are all students at a preforming arts school, where talent is the norm and fame is the goal. But sometimes, being in the spotlight isn't as important as the people your sharing it with-as four of them are going to find out. (It will include the other boy's in the story, there just not main characters. Also the idea's for this story aren't completely mine.)


4. The Auditions (Niall)


I want to get this over with.

My stomach has been in knots all morning. Oh, who am I kidding? I've been a wreck since I got the date of this audition. Maybe going to CPA isn't the best idea. I've got it pretty good in Greenwich. I've got friends, and even better, I've got Kelsey.

Although, I just got a girlfriend and what do I do? I audition for a school in New York City, which means I'll have to live at my parents Park Avenue apartment during the week.

Leave it to me to complicate one of the few good things in my life.

I almost considered backing out of the audition and not going to CPA, but - and I'm fully aware of how corny this sounds - music is my life.

At first I didn't know that it was unusual for someone to hear a song and be able to play it back instantly on the piano or guitar. Or that not everybody can sit down and write a song. I've been playing music, my music, for as long as I can remember. It flows from me with ease.

It's just the lyrics that I suck at.

I'm a thirteen-year-old kid who lives in a huge house in Connecticut with my investment banker father and stay-at-home mom. What do I have to write about? I don't know anything about Suffering or pain. Or love.

I guess the one good thing going for me is that I don't have to sing today. I'm doing a couple of instrumental pieces. I hate singing. I hate it when people look at me. I wonder if they'll let me preform behind a screen?

I try to get my legs to stop shaking, but if they stay still, what will distract me from the bile that is slowly rising in my throat? I go to bite my nails, but there isn't any nail left.

dad squeezes my shoulder. I hate him knowing that I'm nervous. Why can't I just tune out the voices in my head telling me I'm going to mess up, like i mess everything up? Why can't I be normal? Why can't I do something without thinking of the fourteen thousand ways that I can mess up?

actually, there is on e thing I can do to quiet the voices. The only thing that i am good at, which is playing music. That I can do well.

it's everything else that's the problem.

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