Trying to think of something good to write was like waiting for plants to grow; Nick couldn't seem to really focus on anything.
His head felt heavy, his eyelids kept falling shut, but he tried to keep himself awake.
His hand, in which he held a pen, hovered over the paper, unable to put his thoughts into words, unable to write anything down.
Everything he thought of had been written by someone before, he just couldn't think of anything original.
Frustrated, Nick put the pen down and ran his finger through his dark curls. Wasn't this all pointless anyway? Why would anyone want to listen to his band anyway? Four boys from London, none of which were exceptionally talented.
This was nothing but a waste of time. If he hadn't focused on this stupid band so much, his A-levels may have been better, if he hadn't been sitting here trying to write lyrics for two and a half fucking hours he might have been halfway through his essay already.
But he didn't want to give up, he's wanted this ever since he was a teenager, writing songs, releasing albums, playing on a stage in front of people. But in that moment all of that seemed so unreachable, all the recognition they had gotten from people so far would fade, they weren't making any real money, it wouldn't work out.
The dark haired boy pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes, elbows propped up on the table, body slouched over on his desk chair. With a bang he slammed his fist onto the table, then he crumpled up the paper he'd been trying to write on and threw it in the dustbin.
Slowly, he felt a hot tear run down his cheek.
His thoughts were running wild, all of his fears were building up like a mountain in front of him that he didn't have the energy to climb.
Shakily he reached for his phone, unlocked it and dialed the first number that popped up on the screen.
„Hello?," Nick heard Iain's sleepy voice after a few beeps from his phone's speaker. „Nick, it's three am, why aren't you in bed?"
„Uuh..." He could hear himself, but it sounded different, unstable, so he didn't say anything further in fear of that his voice might break.
Iain spoke softer this time: „Nick, are you okay?"
Nick shook his head no, but remembering Iain could obviously not see him he changed his mind and answered : „Yeah, I-... I just can't sleep. Wanted to see if you're still awake."
