Anxious [H.S]

Chapter 1: The Concert

Hello! Welcome to the first chapter of Anxious! I just wanted to let you know that all the pictures that you see in my story I get from Pinterest, I have no idea who actually made the pictures. I am not trying to claim any pictures as my own. Thank you! Enjoy the story!

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*Song: Sign of the Times by Harry Styles*

I slam my phone down against my bed as tears slip down my face. "Leah, you need to get a better job". "You're not meeting my expectations". "I'm disappointed in you". I would do anything to hear my father say he is proud of me. I'm trying my best, I don't know what else I could do.

"Leah, are you ready for this concert? I'm going to meet him and we're going to fall in love," I hear Kenna say as she enters my small apartment located not too far from the heart of New York City.

Kenna, Makenna Taylor, a blonde haired girl with blue eyes, is one of my two best friends. We met in our freshman year of high school and have been best friends ever since. She is loud and funny and has complete confidence in herself. She has a very great style as well. Some say she dresses like a hippie but I strive to have the confidence that she has, to be able to wear anything I want without worrying what other people will think. Not to mention she is obsessed with Harry Styles, who we are seeing tonight at Madison Square Garden. I like his music but I don't understand why she is so obsessed. I mean I get that he is good looking but isn't he just like every other famous person?

I wipe my tears before she enters my bedroom and reply, "Yeah, sure. I'll be happy to be your maid of honor at the wedding,"

"Are you kidding me? You would be too nervous to be the maid of honor. You're too shy." Olive says laughing, entering behind her.

Olive Parker, a black haired girl with brown eyes, the second of my two best friends. Kenna and I met Olive in our sophomore year of college and have been best friends with her since. If you don't know Olive you would probably be scared of her, she is so headstrong and could care less about what anyone else thinks. She is being dragged to this concert just like I am. I wish I had her confidence too, she is loud and funny and dresses however she wants. I just think it's so cool that she can do that.

"Well, come on slow pokes, we don't want to be late to see my husband!" Kenna shrieks in excitement, causing Olive and I to roll our eyes.

Just as I thought, neither of them noticed I wasn't okay. They never notice. They are always so consumed by what they are doing. Kenna obsessing over Harry Styles or whoever other famous person is consuming her brain at the moment. And Olive who only thinks about how she is going to cheat on her boyfriend without him finding out.

We finally reach the bottom of the stairs that come from my second story apartment and get into Kenna's white Range Rover. Kenna is driving, I'm in the passenger seat, and Olive is in the back. Kenna immediately plugs her phone into the aux and plays none other than Harry Styles.

"We don't talk enough. We should open up. Before it's all too much. Will we ever learn? We've been here before. It's just what we know."

I do have to admit, Harry Styles' lyrics are genius. Kenna says that he levitates in his free time. These lyrics hit me hard, it's almost like the lyrics are one of my brain cells trying to talk some sense into me, an inner monologue you could even say. Telling me that I need to start talking to people more and that I should be more open about my feelings with the people around me. The thing is, I don't feel like I have that option. Don't get me wrong, I love Kenna and Olive, but they only care about themselves. I can't talk to my dad because he doesn't understand and he always says, "Suck it up, Leah", "Your life could be worse, Leah". He puts so much pressure on me to be perfect. He has created my anxiety. I can't mess up and if I do, even if it's the tiniest thing, he pulls the disappointment card. "I'm so disappointed in you, Leah. I thought I raised you better than that". I wish my mom was around, she would understand. She also suffered from anxiety since she was little, just like me. But she's dead, so I can't talk to her. I have no one. No one understands. I wish I had someone who could understand.