A Hit In The Making | H.S | 1D |

Chapter 6

:)

Rachel's POV:

The past couple of days went by in a total blur. I've worked practically every day here in Jenna's place since she and her family are spending the next two weeks in the Bahamas. Usually I would envy such a wonderful summer vacay, but honestly I'm having the time of my life right here in Cali. From recording sessions and board meetings and lunch dates with the band, my week hasn't been nearly as glamorous as my friend's has. But even still, I'd say my week has been a success thus far.

But now that it's Friday and my shift is practically over, it's safe to say that I'm looking forward to the next couple of days off. What will I do with all this time you ask? Good question. I have no earthly idea. As far as I know the kids are spending the night with their grandparents while my Aunt and Uncle attend some movie premiere a couple of hours from where we live. They'll probably end up staying at a hotel, which means I have the entire night -- and the house -- to myself.

Which sounds nice, right? And it is. But to be honest, I'm not too big a fan of being alone in an empty house for hours on end. I never have. There's so much silence, so many opportunities for not-so-fond memories to resurface. I shudder at the thought of spending the night alone with only my thoughts to keep me company. It never ends well. But what can I do? All of my school friends are either out of town or throwing some rager and Jenna isn't even in the country. And although my Aunt and Uncle are pretty chill when it comes to my whereabouts, I'm not sure they would approve me having a night out alone while they're away. And quite frankly, I'm not very comfortable with that thought either. Call me paranoid, but I don't care. I've learned the hard way the possibilities of what plays out for teenage girls who roam the streets at night.
But that's a different story for a different time.

I take one last walk through the hall and scan every room for trash or scattered equipment. When I'm satisfied with each room, I make my way downstairs to the breakroom and clock out for the day. As I browse through my locker to gather my things, I quickly realize that my phone and notebook are nowhere in sight. Crap. They're probably still upstairs in the studio. I really hope nobody gets curious... hopefully if somebody happens upon my belongings they automatically know it's mine and just leave it be. I don't really mind that much if somebody looks through my phone while I'm here. Sure it's private, but I have nothing to hide. But my notebook on the other hand... I'm not sure what I'd do if anyone were to snoop through it. I carry it wherever I go and write practically everything in there; little things I learn from folks at the studio, original song lyrics, even journal entries. I've filled up at least five of those books since the death of my family, and the only people I've ever shared the contents with are uncle Anthony and Jenna. But even then it's only under special circumstances.

I quickly exit the the breakroom and jog my way up the stairs and towards the studio. "Come on, Rachel. Stop being so forgetful and stupid." I mutter to myself as I near the door. I hadn't even realized that Louis was walking behind me. When I stopped in front of the door to knock he practically ran into and sandwiched me into the door. "Oi sorry luv. I thought we were going straight in. What's this i hear about 'Rachel being forgetful and stupid'? Is there some other Rachel that we haven't met?" He asks promptly giving me a slightly disapproving look, making me flustered. He heard that? I gulped and faced him straight on, struggling slightly to meet his gaze. "oh, that? It was nothing. I left my things somewhere in the studio and almost left without them. Sorry for holding up the door-" he cuts me off by pushing the door closed while I tried pulling it open. I studied him, confused by his abrupt halt. "That was something, luv. You're not stupid. Why would you say such a thing?"

I stand there slightly shocked and feel slightly vulnerable under his concerned gaze. The last thing I want is to have him pry into my mental or emotional state. Yeah I have low self-esteem and self deprecation just comes with the territory. But I usually try not to show it, especially around my friends and family. But here it's like Louis can see right through me, and I'm not a fan of this feeling.