When Zayn's sister, Reyna, decides to move in with her brother, she never expected to be intertwined with his band. But one day when her brothers best friend, Harry, hears her singing and suggests that she be the lead singer of the band, she can't h...
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Ever since last night I have been living on a high.
Although I have always dreamed of this life, I never thought I would actually get it.
After the absolute hell I have been through lately, to feel this happiness is like finally being able to breathe.
A part of me feels guilty for being happy when I should still be mourning the loss of my sister and stepfather, but the part of my brain that homes the familiar voice of Gemma is telling me to let myself be happy for once.
I chose to listen to my sister and be happy while I live out my dream with my best friends by my side.
And of course my angel.
Since Reyna has come into my life, guilt no longer consumes me, my dream has started to become a reality, and I'm just overall happier.
Thats why, yet again, I'm writing another song about her. She's all I am able to write about lately. It's easy when she's the main character in all of my thoughts.
"What are you writing about?," Zayn jumps onto my bed.
I startle, cradling my words on the journal into my chest.
"You gave me a heart attack," I pant out.
"Sorry," Zayn says while laughing, showing me he couldn't care less about my cardiac distress, "So, what is it?"
I hesitate but ultimately hand my journal over to him. There's no obvious signs in the lyrics that the song is about Reyna. None that Zayn would notice at least.
"I like it, do you have an idea on how it'll sound?," Zayn asks while handing my journal back to me.
"Definitely leaning towards a 70's rock and roll vibe. But I do wanna play around with the beginning of it, make it sound heavenly before the beat drops."
"Do you wanna get the rest of the band in here? We could all work on it together, or would you rather be alone?"
"Yeah, you can get them. I need a little help with some of the lyrics anyways," I say, getting up from my spot and making my way to the guitar propped up in the corner of the room.
''I'll go knock on their doors," Zayn replies.
I give him a nod before he walks out of our hotel room. I sit back down on the bed and start to play around with the guitar, trying to find a melody that sounds good with my lyrics.
I look up when I hear the sound of a door opening, being met with the sight of my bandmates walking into the room.
"Zayn told me so bring this," Reyna says while holding up her large keyboard in her arms.
I quickly scramble off the bed to releave the large instrument from her hold.
