It's All About You ⌘ Joe Sugg ✓

Chapter 71

"Have you written your composition yet?" Trisha's accented voice jolts me out of my drowsy state, and I turn to look at her expectant face. We are seated at our usual spot in the back of the room, waiting patiently for Mr Shay to grace us with his presence. I'm sleepy due to the long overseas flight I have just been on, not 24 hours ago. Jet lag is really taking it's toll on me, and it takes me a few seconds to actually formulate a sensible reply for Trish.

"Oh god no... I was just away for a week at this big youtube event." I say, a yawn escaping my mouth as I stretch slightly in my seat. Even though I feel tired and desperate for even a few minutes of sleep, I can feel that familiar anticipation in me for the lecture. I have no doubt missed a fair bit, however I take comfort in the fact that I am actually further ahead in the coursework than most people.

"How was it?" Trish asks.

"It was incredible... I met so many people there, and the sunshine was amazing." I say, revelling in the happy memories that come flooding to my mind. Even though we only just arrived home yesterday I already feel a yearning to go back to that sunny place where everyone seemed to forget about the real world.

"I still can't get over that youtube is your job." Trish says, an incredulous look on her face. Trish had no knowledge of youtube stars and the success we have on a global scale prior to me telling her - Hell I had to show her some videos of Joe a few weeks back because she wanted to see what my boyfriend looked like. Our rather unrealistic world of internet fame and screaming fans seemed absolutely mind blowing to her. I could understand where she was coming from in all honesty.

"Yeah. Neither can I." I say, staring out of the large window on the furthermost wall of the room. It's a pretty miserable day today - the sun is trapped behind an unforgivable quilt of grey clouds that seem to be threatening the land with the looming possibility of rain. The wind also blows against the airy building, creating an eerie whistling sound that can only be heard in those brief moments of complete quiet. I am dressed for the weather - with a thick woollen scarf and overcoat that shields me from the ruthless weather just fine. Those pleasant, hot days of English summer are only a distant memory as I watch the occasional leaf tumble past the window, carried by the never ending drafts of wind.

"Shitty day today." Trish comments, obviously following my gaze. I nod in a somewhat dazed manner, my mind not in any shape to maintain a decent conversation with her. She is a lovely person despite her outward appearance, and over the past month and a bit her and I have become friends. My heart just isn't in it today.

Our limited conversation fades out as Mr Shay enters the room, calling everyone else to order. I turn my attention to him, despite my almost crippling need to lay my head on the desk and have a nap. Still, I keep my heavy eyelids open as he continues his in depth discussion of music theory.

Usually the lectures fly by in the blink of an eye, however today I find myself wishing the minutes away, my eyes constantly averting to the window at the other end of the room. The rain breaks somewhere in the middle of the class, and I watch as the thick droplets trickle down the panes in intricate patterns, their movements influenced by the constant ebb and flow of the wind. I curse under my breath as I realise that I neglected to bring an umbrella, and it certainly doesn't look as though that rain will hold up anytime soon.

Even though it seems like the lecture will never end, all things end eventually - Mr Shay dismisses the class and we all stand up from our seats before turning to exit out the door. It certainly doesn't compare to the deafening hustle and bustle I used to experience in the commerce hall, but there is still a considerable rush to get out the room.

Trish and I wait for the crowd to disperse from the room like usual before making our exit. Out in the hallway I can see the ghastly weather wreaking havoc over the university campus, and I smile slightly as I watch students run to cover through the glass of the window.