Life behind the fame; A Conor Maynard fanfiction

Chapter 4

Conor's P.O.V

I wake up from a loud scream only to realise that Jack's still in Brighton and the house is all empty apart from myself. My pillow is soaked from what I assume is my own tears, my throat still tight from me crying.

I'd once again had a breakdown in my sleep and once again had I woken up feeling just as broken as the day before.

It wasn't anything new anymore, like you get used to feeling alone, feeling as if you're dying each and every minute of the day.

Even the constant hangover had stopped bothering me, I just cured it with more alcohol and it did usually numb the pain.

What had I become, I've gone from the pop-star with a number one selling album to someone who just want to be normal.

I would honestly do anything just to not be this fucked up, to be able to leave the house for something other than drinking, to be able to smile because I was happy and not because I was trying to hide my pain.

Sighing do I grab my phone from the bedside table next to me, happy I remembered to plug it in to charge over night this time.

It had become a tradition to always check my phone as I wake up, not that I did anything more than checking though because I would actually call myself pretty much as unsocial as you can possibly be.

It was months since I updated anything to be honest, the only reason being I didn't knew what to say.

What do you tweet when everyone is happy because you are now single yet the only thing you can think about is how much you miss not being on your own.

What do you post on instagram when all the pictures you've got in your camera roll are of you together.

How many months can possibly pass before people give up on you, before the fans move over to someone more interesting, someone that actually release the music they continue to talk about.

Five minutes to four in the afternoon, yeah it was my normal time to wake up unless I didn't had anything planned during the day. Those were the days were I struggled the most, the days were the hungovers could possibly be the reason to my death.

I watch the cars drive past outside my window, one blue, two black, one red, one black. I close my eyes again, praying it could all just be a dream, that I'd wake up and see her beside me. That I'd get to feel her again, her soft skin that always made my heart flutter.

Still it never happened, instead I was stuck in a life I didn't wanted to live, a life filled with pain, one night stands and a fanbase that slowly but surely started to see through my lies.

'Move on', 'Enjoy life whilst you're free', 'You'll find someone better','She didn't deserve someone like you anyway'. The comments were many and I guess my friends all thought it helped to hear stuff like that but how could hearing words as such about the one I love possibly make me hurt less.

I steady myself against the wall as I stand up, my head spinning, probably from moving too fast.

Ignoring the sick feeling in my stomach do I pull on a hoodie together with my tracksuit bottoms, getting ready for yet another night in the studio. Because even though I Am on the edge to getting dropped would it probably help if I tried to put something out for the people to hear.

I hide in my hood, making sure no-one will recognise me as I stumble out to my car. Even that had been a drastic change as I'd gone from driving round in Victoria's fancy car to now having to go in my old one again.

Luckily there isn't many people out and about this Thursday evening and I manage to get to the studio without getting stopped for pictures.

It sounded so selfish, as if I didn't appreciated my fans and maybe that was the case nowadays. Because why would I appreciate people who broke my heart into two, making me this fucked up in a matter of months.