Becoming the Fifth Second of Summer - a FanFiction

This isn't fair.

I look back to my notebook which was balancing on my knee. I read what I wrote.

'Another day and I'm somewhere new.

I made a promise that I'll come home soon.

Bring me back, bring me back to you.

When we both wake up underneath the same sun.

Time stops, I wish that I could rewind.

So close but so far away.'

Yup, it was all about Marcus. Although, as when I write a song I don't even think about the words, I jot down whatever comes to me, and I guess you can see another meaning hidden between the lines. I was thinking about now, this amazing weekend that I know will end extremely soon. And I'm not ready. Im not ready to go back to my old life, being nothing, being me. I cant even imagine revising functions for a maths test, or editing a boring history essay, not now. Not after this amazing experience, after realising what I want to do, want to be. I want, no, I need to write songs. Create music, play to the world and affect them with my words.

I write for a couple hours, and finally finish the song. I practise it, playing and singing.

Suddenly, I hear the slam of the front door, and what sounds like an army of elephants trample up the stairs. I keep my eyes fixed on the door, my notebook still in my hands, and my guitar by my feet. I see the handle start to twist, and before I knew it, I had 4 6ft tall guys running toward me.

'DAISYY WE MISSED YOUUUUUU' Calum screamed as he wrapped his arm around me form behind. I laugh and pat his fore arm.

'I did too! How was the shoot?' I ask, smiling at all of them as they sit down on the carpet in front of my chair.

'It was all right, kinda like the other thousand shoots we have done.' Luke says, sounding bored.

'I mean, I specifically said no jumping. Guess what we ended up doing.' Ashton huffs, ruffling his hair and cleaning his glasses with his shirt.

'Oh well,' I say 'You know I-' I get distracted when Michael grabs the notebook from my hands, and runs over to the bed to read it. The other guys catch onto his plan and follow him, their eyes fixated on the pages. I rush over, nervous to see what they are reading.

'Guys stop!' I protest, but its too late. All of them look up at me from the bed.

Calum gave me the biggest smile I have ever seen on another human and simply said, 'You wrote.'.

I blush as i remember his kind words of encouragement from yesterday, which I admit, compelled me to write 'the untitled love song' . Luke asks me to play it on guitar, and sing. But just as i go to grab it, he stops me.

'Wait, hold on one sec.' He runs out of the room, and he see his little blond head bob down the stairs. A minute later, he emerges, holding the guitar that the man in the shop gave him for free.

'Play this one.' He smiles, and I take it from his outstretched arm, sitting back down on my chair as they boys gather once again on the carpet.

I start to play. Singing and strumming, keeping my eyes on the frets, scared to look at them. I sing quietly, just so loud that the boys could hear, but I still cant help but feel self-conscious about my voice. I finish, and look at them.

'So, um yeah. Haha, I know its not great, but I kinda like it I guess..' I ramble, waiting of someone to stop me before i embarrass myself. But nobody does.

'Well fuck.' Michael says, getting up and walking over to the window. He looks out over the darkening city, the glowing reflection shimmers over his face, highlighting the sad look in his eyes. He stands there for a while, hands in his pockets. He seems relaxed, but melancholic and thoughtful. I want to ask him what was wrong, but somehow I want bring myself to break the silence.

I glance down at my watch. 6:59 pm.

A surge of frustration fights its way up to my head inside me. I feel every hair on my skin stand on edge, forcing me to let out a large breath out of my nose, like a bull in a ring. This cant end now. It won't. I cant let it.

Its not fair.

My sudden outburst of anger alerts the guys of my feelings.

'Whats wrong?' Ashton asks, his eyebrows knitting together out of pure concern. Michael turns to me, still somewhat in his day dream, but more aware of the conversation around him.

'I have to-'

'Daisy, your car is here.'