Anna’s POV
“Can you give me a hand sweet?” I heard dad speak from the kitchen and groaned before clumsily heaving myself of the sofa, trudging into the tiled room that was consumed in rich smells.
A smile threatened to break through and I looked around, old memories of me and my mum messily cooking still fresh in my mind.
“Pass me that spoon” Dad tore through my thoughts and I shook my head free of them as I pulled open the brown cabinet and grabbed a silver spoon.
“Here” I said and I handed him the shiny utensil whilst watching from a side as he quickly mixed up the vegetables sitting in the stir fry pan before he took them off the heat and turned to me, a grin taking over his features.
He clapped his together and wiggled his eyebrows at me as I chuckled at his behaviour, moving past him to take down two plates from the shelf and place them on the dining table.
“There we go” Dad announced as he set all the food down and pulled his chair out, sitting opposite me on the small wooden table. He pulled himself in and emptied half the seasoned vegetables into my plate alongside two chicken wings and some potato mash.
I slid my plate closer to me and immediately dug in, the fresh aroma of chicken consuming me as I gave a quick thumbs up in his direction, quickly returning back to my feast.
“Hey I was wondering….” Dad started midway through dinner and I swallowed a mouthful of mash down before nodding, signalling for him to continue.
“Would you like two tickets for Nialls show tomorrow?”
My eyes widened leaving my mouth ajar and I stumbled over my words before incoherently mumbling out.
“Niall? As in Niall Horan?”
“Yeah Niall Horan” Dad confirmed as he looked at me sceptically whilst I tried to put order to my thoughts but once that resulted in becoming almost impossible I let out a short nod and wearily watched as his face lit up with excitement whilst he leaning backwards to try and get something out his pocket.
However before I could ask him what he was doing he pulled out two backstage passes to his concert and slid them over the table to me, a smile etched onto his face.
“There you go honey” he chuckled and handed me them.
I stared down at the rectangular shaped pieces of paper and gulped, trying to supress the unknown happiness suddenly seeming to bubble inside of me as I extended a shaky hand towards them, placing them in the pocket of my jeans before returning back to dinner exasperatingly avoiding the smirk dad was sending my way.
Nialls POV:
I looked up at Hayley who sat at her desk, fiddling with some pens as I breathed out, my eyes averting towards to the two guards who stood stiffly against the door, their bulky arms resting by their sides. I wonder if they ever got tired standing like that? I mean it was a pretty tuff job to stand around all day in a slick posture, always staying alert.
“Okay, live in 1 minute” The producer said through the mic outside the actual studio causing me to stop staring at the guards, who had now noticed were looking at me funny to look back at Hayley as she gave a ‘thumbs up’ sign and sat back in her seat putting her headphones on, me following.
“3,2,1” the producer called and nodded towards Hayley as she returned the gesture.
“Alright so that was dreams by Niall Horan, who we currently have present in the studio” Hayley sang, winking in my direction whilst introducing the show.
“You’re listening to music mania and this is Hayley Bryan…” her voice soon becomes inaudible and I sigh, fidgeting with my fingers as my thoughts consumed me.
Why was Paul saying he would fire me if I messed up?
I mean I heard that Paul needs money ‘because apparently he’s marrying again but he’s a fucking music producer for crying out loud! He must have billions if not trillions.
But I didn’t understand why he would want to marry again since I remember him telling me about his eighteen year old daughter who was currently in college studying. Wasn’t she slightest bit bothered about this? But then again this wasn’t any of my business so I had no right to directly as Paul or anyone else for that matter about it.
A scoff left passed my lips as I pictured what his precious daughter would look like.
Possibly high heels adorning her feet, bleach blonde dyed hair, blue eyes and skimpy outfits with a load of make up to seal the deal. That’s what every single daughter of the producers I’ve been with so far have looked like anyway.
Whether it was stereotypical of me to imagine her like that or not it didn’t stop my mind from picturing her sauntering in with her six inch shoes and high pitched voice when she saw me at the concert I was holding tomorrow which I had been told that she was coming to.
A/N
Hey guys, i hoped you liked this chapter, i know its pretty shit but its all i could do with this massive writers block!
please vote and comment because it means a lot to me x thank you for reading :)
Ayesha x
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Scars
Fanfiction"She was the air I would kill to breathe, it was just unfortunate that to be able to breathe I had to kill her"
