Turn Around (Conor Maynard)

Chapter 2 (One Month Earlier)

I sat comfortably, flicking through my magazine. I'm looking at the page, but not really concentrating. Horiscopes, prizes, letters to the editor. I flick back a few pages. I might get lucky. When I look, all I can see is a double page ad, with a massive photo of Conor Maynard on one page. Opposite, is massive lettering read the words, 'WIN CONOR FOR 14 DAYS!'' I read on, really only interested in why he was doing this gig. According to the article, he needed a break from his new album, and a homestay would be the perfect way to do so. Bellow these details there was information on how to enter. 'Entries close 12pm EST on Tuesday 14th'. I looked at my phone. It was the 14th. And it was quarter to. Before I knew what i was doing, I had punched in the numbers and was talking to a photo operator.

"Late entry are we?" I could almost hear the sneer in her voice.

"Yes, look. My name is Anneliese and ..." I continued giving her my details. Once she had everything she needed, it was five munutes to. 

"Thankyou for choosing us. The Company will draw entries our of a basket. It is purely chance. No untoward actions will be taken, and the draw will be conducted under controlled conditions.Good luck, the draw will occur at 12.00pm. Entrants will be informed via a phone call. We wish to speak with you soon." The girl on the phone spoke to me in a flat monotone, uninterested. It sounded as though she has said that speel a thousand times. She probally had. Before I could thank her, I heard a click, and she was gone. 

My phone beeped, showing me a new text from Lily, and that the time was now 11.59. Who was I kidding? I had no hope of ever meeting Conor. I just needed to see for myself if he was a real person, with feelings, or another musical man-bot. Thye numbers changed. 12.00pm. I sighed, untangling my legs from each other. When i moved to rise, my phone vibrated in my hands. 'Private Number.' It was most likely Lily, calling from her home. I answered it, sitting back down. 

"Hello?"

"Congratulations, you are now in the running for a Conor Maynard experince!"

My mouth dropped. "Sorry?"

The rude phone girl spoke again, the polite fisade dropped immediently. "You just entered a competition, didn't you?"

Then it dawned on me. "You mean I've got a chance?"

"Yes. Please go to 145 Williamsons Road, Level 27, on Sunday in a weeks time. A smirk crept into her voice again. "So not this Sunday, but the next one. Got it sweetie? 12pm sharp."

I took a deep dreath. Annoyance showed on my face, but not in my voice. "I understand. Thankyou so much."

"Whatever." I heard a grunt, and she hung up on my again, leaving me staring at my phone in utter shock.

*

Days passed by, slower than usual. I had completely forgotten about the competition until I went through my magazine once more before I recycled it. I gasped. I HAD TO GO TOMORROW. A weeks worth of nerves attacked me, and I poured myself a glass of water to calm down, my hands shaking as I did so. Why was I stressing? It's not like he would pick me anyway.

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Any thoughts / comments / predictions please comment!!

~Born2dance_143 :)