Nineteen-year-old, Bea Somerton, knows exactly how she wants to live. Become a doctor, remain in remission from her childhood Leukaemia and have a happy, normal, life.
The last thing she expects is to meet rising star and troubled musician, Holden P...
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I hear the door barge open from behind me. It's loud enough to hear through The Fray that blasts through my ears.
I scrub at the floor harder, on my hands and knees trying desperately to get that one stubborn dirt stain. A cold sweat breaks out across my forehead and I shudder.
In less than three hours I'll be having my insides inspected. I'm yet to inform my parents either, but Parker was happy enough to make the entire experience much more pleasant.
"I wanted to be there too," he'd snapped. "So many people want to be there for you. Why do you always shut us out?!"
"It isn't like that," I'd argued, feeling frustrated.
"Then what's it like, huh? Explain it to me, Blake. Explain it."
I scrub harder, suppressing the memory of me standing before my brother, unable to explain to him why I felt the need to go through this alone. Simply, I just didn't want him to be dragged through my mess again. I know how it affected everyone around me last time.
Someone kicks at my shoe and without turning to peer up at them, I know without a doubt Holden will be standing over me.
"Somerton," I hear his muffled voice speak. "You gonna ignore me forever?"
"If that's what it takes," I mumble. "I'm busy right now, Holden."
"I think that spot has been clean for the past three minutes, actually."
I stop at his words, inspecting the stain that is no longer present. It shines brightly back at me. The glare almost allows me to see my own reflection.
I stand achingly slowly, feeling as though my body has already given up on me. I turn to meet his gaze, noting his laidback expression as he leans against the doorframe.
"I'm sorry," he holds out his hands in surrender. "And I don't say that too often."
"So I should be honoured then?" I scoff. Roughly, I pull off my latex gloves, throwing them into an empty bucket.
"That isn't—"
"With all due respect, Holden, I really don't want to hear this right now," I utter. "Not today."
"I know the articles are getting worse, but my manager is already onto that. And if you start getting papped—"
"Papped? Jesus. I was with you for less than half an hour before you made it very clear that I'm just a cleaner."
"I said I was sorry."
"And I said I'm not in the mood right now. Sorry if that's too harsh for your rockstar personality, but—"
