Broken Charms

Trying...

(a/n) hey everyone! how is your autmn so far? Mine is well, normal. did you like my prologue? Here is the first chapter of the sceond part of my fanfiction. i really hope you like it. i'm so sorry if it is al little long. I didn't want to spilt it into two parts again. you can read it in parts though. it's already divided! please vote and comment if you liked it. See you soon! x

“He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.”

― Friedrich Nietzsche

---Astrid---

London.

Okay, let’s start again. And if you should ever …. Hmm! No! What if I started it with B flat? And If you should ev… No! No! Damn!

I pressed my hands flat against the keys of the piano express my frustration out loud, as if it wasn’t already clear. I’ve been trying to write the music that would match the lyrics that I had written almost two days ago, but my inspiration was drained.

Writing music for all the poems I wrote when I was on tour with One Direction was what I had been doing for the last month. Because walking up and down my room was not what someone would call a creative experience. To my huge surprise, my doctor had allowed me to walk as much as I wanted since the last week.  A month had passed since I left the tour. I missed everyone so badly and writing music was the only thing that could distract my mind from thinking about the tour and Harry. He left me with no explanation, no goodbye, nothing and I still didn’t know why. Anne didn’t know either from what she had told me.

“Are you trying to convince the neighbors to kick us out of the apartment or are you so desperate to spend the night at the police station?” My grandfather entered the room just I was pouring my frustration onto the piano. I smiled.

“No. I was just trying to write some music to fit with my chorus.” I explained.

“Well, how is that working out for you?”

“How do you think?” I asked and he shrugged.

“You’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.” He said encouragingly.

“What did the doctor say today? You did go, right?” he asked. I sighed.

“The doctor told me exactly what she had told the last few times I went there.” I told him and he knew exactly what I meant. I had been going to a Physiotherapy Centre for the last two weeks and the therapist always told me the same thing, that I had to believe in myself that I could dance again, if I didn’t try to get better I couldn’t dance again that I was up to me. She was right but I had lost the urge to fight and never give up the moment I set a foot on Heathrow Airport a month ago. 

“You know you can’t hide here forever. You have to return back to how your life was before the tour sooner or later. You must move on.” He suggested. He knew me better than anyone. We spent almost every day together and we had bonded more than I could ever hope. That was the only positive aspect of me returning here.

“I know. but still it doesn’t feel right, returning back to how my life was is like pretending that nothing had happened of past few months. I need a chapter break.” He nodded. every book I had ever read was divided in chapter. That was what I loved about the books that fact that you could stop reading once you reached the end of a chapter like the story, the characters had somehow paused. I needed exactly that. I needed time to stop running like crazy for a change. I needed the peace of stillness and silence.

“Are you coming to the rehearsal this afternoon?” he asked. He was directing a play in the centre of London and he took me with him every time he went there. He wanted to keep an eye of me so asking me if I wanted to come was a little bit unnecessary. Even if I didn’t want to go he would still take me with him and for a 60-year-old man was quite convincing.