• Previously Featured on Wattpad • Everyone dreams of becoming the next big thing in the music industry because who wouldn't dream about enjoying the luxuries of fame? The most common issue is that period of waiting, waiting for someone to discover...
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CHAPTER TWO
Excitement bubbles through my system as my eyes catch the sight of my computer. In this moment, the possibilities are endless. I could have one view or one-thousand. It feels farfetched, but I spent the night dreaming about the bright lights of a stage and the crowd roaring my name as I begin singing.
There's a soft knock on the door, then my mother's head pokes into the room. I snuggle under the blanket and push my thoughts away.
"We're leaving in thirty minutes; will you be ready by then?" she questions.
"Um, yes." I nod. "Because I really don't have another choice, do I?"
"Don't forget to eat breakfast," she reminds me.
"Okay, I promise I won't."
She closes the door while I roll out of bed. Waking up is the easier part; it's fighting the desire to roll back into bed and ignore the world which is the hardest.
I stumble across the room and begin shuffling through the collection of books neatly piled towards the corner of my desk. As I flicker through, I withhold the ones I need. Once I've gathered everything I need, I toss them into my bag and hurry towards my wardrobe.
The first thing I grab is a pair of tight, ashy grey jeans and a long-sleeved top with a blue and white floral pattern. Then I find a pair of comfortable leather boots and a puffy black jacket to keep me warm.
I wander into the hallway and instantly groan with displeasure when I hear my sister's music blaring from the bathroom.
"Better luck next time," I mutter to myself.
You'd think sharing a bathroom with one person would be easy, but Hannah might as well be ten people with the amount of time she spends in there.
My feet drag along the ground as I return to the bedroom to change. I tug the outfit on and shower myself in a cloud of perfume.
Before leaving the room, I straighten the blanket and reposition my pillows to make the room look neater. Then I grab my bag and hurry downstairs. I wander into the kitchen and leave my bag by the doorway.
I scan over the pantry in search for something to eat. There's a lot of options, but I go for the best kind of breakfast food, the sugary kind.
Filling my bowl to the brim with fruit loops, I grab the milk from the fridge and pour it into the bowl. As I return the milk to the fridge, I grab a spoon from the drawer beside the fridge.
I carry the bowl into the loungeroom and plonk myself in front of the television. Just as I go to grab the television remove, my mother swoops in and takes it away.
"Hey, what are you doing?" I pout.
"No trashy cartoons today," she says, "there's a segment I want to watch on this morning show."
