Doncaster [Louis Tomlinson]

9: Audition

Ugh it's been one month since the last update and for that I deeply apologise. But I'm also sorry to say that the next update probably wont be for another month as well. I really enjoy writing this story, but I have to update my other stories before I can start writing for this one which is quite annoying but I need to keep my promise for the readers of my other works. But anyway, enjoy this chapter.

|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|

            I swiftly ran the knife across the lightly toasted bread, leaving a trail of half melted butter behind it. It was hard to concentrate on making a nutritious breakfast when I had a splitting headache due to lack of sleep. I’d spent most of the night practising for today’s audition, and when I finally did tuck myself comfortably into bed, I couldn’t sleep a wink. My nerves were to blame. 

            I gazed out the foggy kitchen window as I took a bite of my freshly prepared buttered toast. The view wasn’t anything extraordinary, just a typical English garden; but yet I couldn’t turn my eyes away from it. It was safe to say that I was dreading the event which would take place after school, and perhaps I was trying to stall as much as I could.

            My mother had left for her office job roughly fifteen minutes ago. This happened every morning; I was always the last to leave the house. This left me with some responsibilities. I have to turn off the television and make sure every entrance to the house is locked. By this time I probably should’ve been on my way to Hall Cross by now, but I just couldn’t find the will to leave the house. I turned away from the never changing view of the garden and averted my eyes towards the miniature kitchen T.V on the countertop. A morning show was running, and the female reporter was going through today’s top stories. It was the usual; politics, conflict, celebrities. I finished my slices of toast as the journalist rambled on; my eyes glanced at the clock every few seconds.

            I finally decided to embark in the final steps of my morning routine. I headed upstairs and into the bathroom. The bathroom was overly feminine; the bathtub, sink and toilet were all tinted a light shade of pink while various cosmetic products surrounded the basin. The majority were my mother’s wide range of lipsticks and perfumes, but my moisturiser, cleanser, toner and mascara for special occasions also contributed to the mess. I didn’t usually wear much make-up, but when I did, I could always count on my mum having whatever I needed.

            I picked up my toothbrush, squirted a thick line of toothpaste along the bristles and began brushing. After around a minute I spat, rinsed, returned downstairs, turned off the morning T.V programme (they were now interviewing some previous X-Factor contestant about the release of their new album - which didn’t seem like it was going to sell all that well), locked the doors and began my quick journey to school.

            On my trip throughout the boring streets of Doncaster, I was suddenly reminded of a particular boy whose locker was two away from mine. The thought of Louis, the boy I fancied, suddenly masked the worry of my audition taking place that afternoon. I thought of the way he smiled with his thin lips, and how his grey eyes crinkled at the corners. I thought of the way he said my name, and the way he spoke to me. He made my heart race in a way which no other previous crush of mine had done before. And maybe it was because I’m older now, and everything’s getting more serious. Or maybe it’s just because Louis is profoundly better than any other boys of my past.

            The streets were close to empty that morning, and the thought of Louis had distracted me for the time being. But nothing could last forever. The school was right in my view and with each step my heartbeat quickened a fraction. When I’d reached the school gate my breathing had become uneven. And it wasn’t until I’d reached my locker that I finally calmed down.