Tears are destroying my makeup. My low hanging top is earning me vulgar looks from the old man sat across from me on the bus, especially when we go down the bumpy track.
I don't know where the bus is going, but I feel free. Scarily free.
I consider stopping to find a pay phone, but I want to get as far away as possible first.
"Hey," I smirked at the old man, disgusting myself. "Could I borrow your phone? Mines dead."
"Sure thing, gorgeous." He pulled out an old, half smashed and no doubt covered in germs phone, passing it to me.
I gave a smile of 'thanks' and quickly typed in my mother's number.
"Hey, Mum." I spoke quietly down the phone, trying not to waver my voice.
"Lowen! I didn't recognise the number. How are you, superstar?"
"I'm good. Just really home sick." I fought a tear. "I'm going to come home for a while."
"Oh honey, this is all part of growing up. I know it's hard, but you're so strong."
This shouldn't be what growing up looks like. One little tear slipped past my grip and I wiped it away as fast as it fell. "No, Mum. I don't like The Band. I just want to come home and focus on my career by myself."
"Okay, love. We'll talk about it when you're home, okay?"
"Okay." I glance up at the man who's phone I was borrowing to watch him enjoying the conversation. "See you soon, Mum. I love you."
YOU ARE READING
For The Plot
Romantik✓ academic rivals ✓ enemies to lovers ✓ fake dating ✓ Many more of your favourite tropes <3 Lowen had been through hell and back to get to where she is now - one of the world's best upcoming music artists. But after releasing a few hit singles she k...
