Flame [h.s.]

11| Young girls

All you young wild girls
You make a mess of me
Yeah, you young wild girls
You'll be the death of me

Harry

I don't know how or even why, but I ended up decided to accept the opportunity to sing at the pub a couple of nights a week.

I was hesitant at first, but I guess a part of me always knew I would say yes. Sunday would be my first official night singing and I was actually excited for it. I spent most of my free time during the last week gathering a couple of songs I could sing that would get the public going, and I found a few great ones.

Since I was starting at a Sunday, it meant the pub wasn't going to be so crowded as it usually is, which was actually a good practice for me.

I haven't felt like this since I was twenty-two, and I nearly forgot how music could make me feel this rush. All those years ago this was how I normally felt, the good anxious feeling before having a performance, no matter if it was playing on a busy street or in a loud pub. I loved music, even if I was probably the least successful singer on earth at the time.

The feeling is still there, and I don't know if that is a good or a bad thing.

That part of my life was long forgotten, it was actually scary to be doing it all over again. For so many years I convinced myself I didn't miss it, how it wasn't an important aspect of who I was, but I couldn't be more wrong.

After singing in the pub, I couldn't sleep at all that night. I still felt the rush and the stamina running through my body, making it impossible to close my eyes and get some rest. All I wanted was to do it all over again. Watching the crowd sing along and cheer for me was probably the best sensation I have felt in a while.

And all because Liv insisted I sang that night. If it wasn't for her I would still keep my dream locked away inside me, so well hidden I would almost forget about it.

Speaking of Liv, I was now driving all the way to her house to pick her up. It was a strange coincidence we were spending the day in London, but I wasn't going to complain. I really like her company, and even though I once called her childish, I do think she is very mature for her age. I don't know what I was thinking on the day I told her that, but I will not make the same mistake again.

We had agreed on the last weekend I would pick her up Friday early in the morning in front of her house. I hadn't spoken to her during the past week meaning I was actually looking forward to see her again.

I still have that voice inside my head that tells me to stay away from her, but that voice is getting fainter and fainter to the point I barely hear it.

And I don't know if that is a good or a bad sign.

Olivia was a natural flirter, I had already noticed that, and I can't help but to feel drawn into her beautiful personality. I just never know what I am going to get with her, it's a constant surprise.

And I couldn't be more excited about driving her to London and then back home again.

As I was five minutes away from her house, I receive a call from my wife, which I quickly answer pressing the green button on the steering wheel. "Darling?" I ask as soon as I pick it up.

"Have you left already?" Addison asks, probably she just finished her first meeting in the morning.

Today she went to work extra early as she had a meeting with some Russian clients. She left for work it wasn't even six in the morning when I was still soundly sleeping, so now at nine she has already been working for three hours. Today I wasn't going to the office, which I was actually thankful for.