sheer heart attack | borhap cast

Chapter One

Your manager had called you a few days ago, mentioning how she had talked to a director, who was interested in an instructor for his new movie. Seeing as you were a professional singer and had known your instruments since you were young, this could be one of your biggest breaks in Hollywood. This would be a big movie, one of the most popular if it got the attention it deserved, so you decided to book a meeting with the director and producers.

"When's the meeting?" you asked your manager, as you held the phone between your shoulder and your ear, as you moved around the spare room in your house, setting up your tripod and the drum kit in the corner.

"Tomorrow, at 10am."

"Okay, I'll be there. Anything I need to know beforehand?"

"I just sent you an email with everything you need." she paused, rustling heard from the other end of the call, "Listen, call me tomorrow after the meeting, I gotta head out. Good luck tomorrow!"

"I will! Bye!"

Hanging up, you headed to your laptop on the coffee table, opening the email she had sent, as you let out a yell of surprise. "No way! She did not just book me a meeting for a Queen biopic!" Your eyes scanned the email, information about the movie, called Bohemian Rhapsody along with information on the producers: Brian Harold May and Roger Meddows Taylor, the two out of three remaining members of Queen, your favorite band since you were young. Remembering what you were going to do before she called you, you closed your laptop before walking back inside the room you were in, setting up your phone on the tripod and pressing record. Walking over to the drum kit, you sat, twirling your drumsticks in your hand before you started playing, the beat of Keep Yourself Alive playing, concentration etched on your face, as you kept playing. Getting lost in the music and the beat made you produce the best cover, as you came to the infamous drum solo from the song.

It wasn't the most difficult song you had ever practiced, so the solo came easy to you. Finishing the song, you smiled at the camera, before pressing the stop button, and uploading the cover to your Instagram.

Sighing, you grabbed your water bottle nearby, taking a drink before grabbing your laptop and setting it on your lap, reading through the rest of the information your manager had provided, then opening your documents and writing the rest of your song.

The evening went by fairly quickly, as you finished the last of your song, ate a quick meal and headed to bed. The nerves and the drumming drained you, as your body begged for sleep. Slowly undressing yourself and slipping on your pajamas, you sent a last text to your manager letting her know that you had gone over the email and were ready for tomorrow. Slipping into your bed, you closed your eyes, got comftorable, and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, the alarm woke you up, as you hit snooze, burying your head in your pillow and pulling the covers over you. A couple minutes passed before you sat up, looking over at your phone on the nightstand and noticing the messages from your manager. Reaching over, you grasped the phone with your hand, bringing it up to your face as you read through the messages. Your eyes widened as you looked at the clock, before jumping out of bed, and quickly running to your closet all while dialing your manager's phone.

"Hello?" she answered as your eyebrows furrowed, as you quickly grabbed the first articles of clothing you saw.

"Hey! You didn't tell me you booked a wrong time for me! I barely woke up and I have half an hour to get to my meeting! What the hell, Lizzie!" you argued, quickly running to the kitchen and turning on the coffee machine so it would be ready while you're in the shower, before running back.

"I'm sorry! I forgot about the time! The good thing is that it only takes 10 minutes to get to the meeting, so you have 20 minutes to shower and get changed."