Roses (A Ricky Wilson Fanfic)

Twenty-five

I was back in my flat, changed into my kitten pyjamas. What? They were comfortable. I decided I should ring my mum. It had been a while since I had spoken to her, and I didn't know if she could make it to the finals. I hoped she could because she hadn't made it to see me on the show at all lately.

She picked her phone up after two rings.
'Hazel,' She said. She sounded different. She sounded... annoyed.
'Hey mum. How's things?' I asked, ignoring the way she sounded. Maybe she had just gotten annoyed with the neighbours again, or had forgotten something when she went shopping.
'Okay. Life carries on as usual at home.' She sighed.
'I've just been in town, but we had to rush back.' I said. Ricky wanted to get home because it had been a long day for him driving. Plus, he wasn't the biggest fan of my family after what had happened with my dad.
'You've changed.' I heard my mum say under her breath, but loud enough for her to know I heard it.
'What?' I asked. I knew I should have seen her, but we really needed to get back.
'I saw the video of how you and Ricky spoke to your father. And I want to say that it's not only your father who doesn't want you around him. He's a bad influence on you, Hazel. You have changed so much since you went onto that show, and I don't like it.'

I didn't know what to say. I couldn't believe it. How hard was it to make them believe that I wasn't with Ricky? He was just a friend. A very attractive friend but still. We had nothing more than our friendship between us. What would Ricky want with a normal girl like me anyway? I was plain, not skinny, and came from a messed up family.

'Thanks,' I said quietly into the phone, fighting back the tears. I had just lost the one last person in my family. My own mother hated me.
'Thankfully you'll be home soon and away from that man after the finals.'
'Maybe I won't be.' I said, and put the phone down.

Maybe I won't go home. I didn't see how I could now, after that. I would have to get myslef a good job, and a good place to stay. Then I would be okay. If I won, I wouldn't even have to find myself a job. I would have one. Then I would never have to stay with my family again. I didn't even want to call them my family any more.

I threw my phone down on my bed, and picked up my guitar. I needed something to play for the finals.

I began strumming through loads of different song I knew off by heart, until I found one. The one song that made me think that maybe, with that, I could win. The Writer, by Ellie Goulding. The song gave me confidence. I loved the words to it. The song is about how you would change anything to be noticed by this one person. It's saying that the guy can do whatever he wants to make you who he wants you to be, because you just want him to notice that you are there.

That was the song I had to sing.