Chapter 7 - Moving on

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Chapter 7 - Moving on:

~3 years later~

Pushing my scarlet red locks out of my face, I woke up, leaving the curtains shut. I really hated the blinding sunlight in the mornings.

I decided to lie in bed for a while, my eyes adjusting to the light.

Hearing my phone go off, I checked it. It was my boyfriend, Jake sending me a text. I'd been avoiding him recently.

'You free today babe?' The text read.

I groaned inwardly, before throwing my phone to the side, my boyfriend is too clingy. Besides, we'd been having arguments recently. I didn't exactly want to spend anymore time with him.

Looking around my room, I still had my black and purple room.

I grinned at all the band posters scattered around the walls, A Day To Remember, Black Veil Brides, Fall Out Boy, Slipknot, Five Finger Death Punch and loads more.

Getting out of my pyjamas, I slipped on a Bring Me The Horizon top and black jogging bottoms. I was still dressed, I just wasn't expecting anyone to come round. Besides, they were brilliant to lounge around the house in.

Filling the kettle up and flicking the ON button, I sung along to the radio quite happily.

Grabbing my Slytherin mug, - yes I was a Harry Potter fan- I began making the tea, finishing quite quickly before taking it into the living room and setting it on a coaster on my table.

I flicked the TV on, tying my hair back into a messy ponytail.

After a few moments of hesitation, I decided to put Kerrang on, turning it up loud.

I made a mental list of things I'd need for today:
Mic, speakers, docking station, Ipod, Notebook, Pen, Laptop.

Right.

I ran upstairs quickly, grabbing my laptop, notebook and a pen. As far as I knew, my mic and speakers were in the kitchen.

Padding back into the living room, I hear You Me At Six blaring out from Kerrang, I sing along quietly:

'You keep me on, the edge of my seat. I bite my tongue, so you don't hear me...'

As I sung along, I turned my laptop on.

I had a few jobs, I guessed you could call them jobs anyway.

I aspired to be a writer as I got older. This meant I wrote a lot of my own novels and published some online to get critique from people, sometimes criticism though.

But, I also started getting offers from bars for open mic nights at different pubs and restaurants, hoping this would somehow get me noticed.

Brushing all of the thoughts in my head aside, I started typing out the rest of a novel I was working on.

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