Normani Kordei Hamilton.
Have you ever believed in something that had you riled up, and then when it passes, its like nothing happened.
Kind of like an artist that you love whose concert you went to. You're excited on your way there, you get there and you're anxioisly waiting for them to come, then when they arrive its crazy. It only hits you after some time that the person is actually there. Actually singing in front of you. Then you're sad when it ends, but you go to bed with a smile on your face anyway, because it was worth it to see that one person. Then you wake up the next day, and it was like it didn't even happen because it's exactly that unbelievable.
Apparently it's the same after you're the performer, because I feel like nothing happened. I went in there nerves and all, waited anxiously and then nervously sang my heart out. Now it feels like yesterday didn't even happen. As if I didn't perform in front of a crowd of really exclusive people who all had their phones out, recording me.
After I made sure that Dinah was peacefully watching television on the sofa, I pulled my pyjamas on and got into bed. When I started scrolling through my applications, I noticed the number in the bubble above the F for my Facebook constantly changing. It was really creepy, but when I opened the application, I saw dozens of friend requests.
Surprisingly, I didn't know any of them, and although I was a little low on Facebook friends, I wasn't going to accept people that I didn't know.
Last night was... unexpected. I didn't expect it to be like it was, and I also didn't expect Zayn to be that drunk, hit on me, or "forget" to thank the producer of his whole album.
Dinah doesn't normally show emotions and makes jokes to get by, but I could see that she was hurt. Even though she had managed to maintain a straight facial expression, I could see her face drop a little bit.
The only word to describe yesterday was bittersweet. Sweet because I was kind of living my dreams, but bitter because of all the pretending I had to do.
I had to pretend I was happy on the red carpet while standing next to Camila, I had to pretend I was excited to perform even though I was really nervous. And I had to pretend I was really singing. I wasn't happy to do so, and Dinah definitely wasn't happy that I was either. But if this is what it takes to achieve my dreams...
After a thorough brushing of my teeth, getting the disgusting alcohol taste out of my mouth, and scrubbing the anxiety and nerves off my body, I get dressed in a simple outfit, seeing as I wasn't going to "work" today. Apparently there was no "work" on weekends, and that worked in my favour because I wasn't in the mood for anything.
When I walk, more like saunter, into the kitchen, I'm not surprised to find Dinah making coffee, because that's what she always does, but I am surprised to find Zayn's hungover body sprawled across Dinah's long sofa, with his head hanging over the edge and his mouth wide open, snoring loudly.
I can't even form a sentence at the moment due to confusion, and find my eyes drifting over to Dinah, who isn't wearing her usual cheery breakfast smile that she does when she makes coffee. Coffee made her happy.
Sure, she still had the glow like she usually did when her hair was pulled back into a bun so nothing was covering her face, and the sun's rays that were pouring through the curtain, bouncing off of her, making her seem sort of like an angel or something. But something just wasn't right.
Sure she was humming a tune like she did everyday when she made coffee, but this one sounded down right depressing.
"Good morning." I speak up, making my presence known. I stand back at a distance next to the couch where my boss is snoring his lungs out, watching her next move very carefully. Like I said, I was very observant.
