Torn♥
Chapter Five
Hunter's P.O.V.
I woke up the next morning, my head and arms pounding in pain as I glanced down at the small blood pool in on my gray sheets, a razor sitting on my nightstand. I vaguely remembered having a nightmare, getting up, and pulling apart my razor. I looked at the fresh marks on my arm, getting up and finding my meds in one of my suitcase. I found the large bottle of Advil, quickly downing four pills before finding a Chuck E. Cheese tank top, a pair of compression shorts, and going into the bathroom to shower quick. I washed my long hair, frowning slightly as I noticed the colors still streaming out of the ends. I tried to clean out my arms, but the water I stung, and I didn't dare try and put soup on them. I stepped out of the water, towel drying my hair some before putting it into a high ponytail, and taping my arm after I pulled on my lazy clothes. I walked out, finding the box marked 'entertainment' knowing it would have my music book, pens, pencils, more headphones, my fashion book, colored pencils, markers, and guitar picks. I pulled out some pencils, my music, my design book, and a few guitar picks before walking into the living room where I had seen my large Martin guitar case last night.
I walked into the large room, finding my guitar case immediately as I set down the stuff I had brought from the box. I went into the kitchen, looking for some water and something small to eat, knowing very well i I ate too much, it would come right back up. I found Ari doing the same, at some point in high school we both ended up with stomach problems, mine were from a seizure medication that just gave me more seizures, Ari's was… well we still don't know… She tossed me an apple, and a bottle of water.
"You know me so well," I laughed catching both items.
"What do you think I ate?" She laughed lightly as I sat down in the living room, content to stay there all day, playing guitar, recording my bad singing, and of course working on my design sketches. My life goal when I was seven was to be the first women in the NHl, while being a pop star, while being a fashion designer. Part of me still hadn't given up on that dream, but I knew it would never happen, especially not that hockey part. Ari left to go hang out with the boys, and I was rather happy to be by myself. The peace and quiet letting me tweak little things in my horrible music writing ability. I heard a soft knock at the door, knowing it was unlocked I just shouted rather then get up.
"IF YOU PROMISE NOT TO KILL ME, YOU CAN COME IN!" I shouted loudly, my drawings sprawled over the coffee table and couch, multiple guitar picks and strings on the floor, and my music book on a stand in-front of me as I continued to pluck out notes, trying desperately to figure out what was wrong with the rhythm.
"Hunter, I think your gonna have to rethink that policy," A thick Irish accent spoke up walking through the door. The voice was too deep to be Max.
"I think its a fantastic policy," I said in a small voice. Still not completely comfortable with Niall. I suddenly realized all my art everywhere. I quickly started to pack it up, not wanting anyone to see any of it. I started to put the pictures I had drawn into their folder, the same with my music. Starting to put my guitar away. Only Ari and Max had seen this side of me, I wasn't even ready to have Lizzie see it, let alone Niall. A guy I had met yesterday.
"Whats this?" He whispered picking up one of the drawings that I had clearly dropped. It was a blonde women, her blue dress curling into blonde hair and a pale yellow trench coat drenched around her shoulders. A red notebook held up in one of her delicate hands. "This is beautiful Hunter," Niall whispered sitting down next to me, taking my book out of my hands, looking through the things I had drawn. "This is all amazing," He whispered looking at artwork after artwork. I gave up around page number five, I wasn't getting the book away from him. I shook my head no, moving my music book away from him. "What's that?" He asked grabbing for it.
"Nothing," I mumbled picking my guitar back up to put it away as Niall stole my music book.
"Play?" He whispered, a pout forming on his face. "Please?" I sighed, taking the music from him. I started to play 'Good Riddance' by GreenDay. It was something I could play off memory, and Niall wouldn't have to listen to my awful singing. "Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road. Time grabs you by the wrist directs you where to go. So make the best of this test and don't ask why, its not a question but a lesson learned in time," Niall's soft, sweet voice played through the house, making my guitar ability sound like a two year old playing with pots and pans. I stopped playing, staring blankly at him. "Why'd you stop?"
"I don't normally play in front of people. And I defiantly don't like them looking at my artwork. But, here you are, and you've done both. And I can't decide how I feel about it," I mumbled quickly as Niall's bright blue eyes stared at me.
"How would you feel if I arranged for someone else to see your artwork? Someone that could get you a job with the boys and I. Someone that could make it so you travel with Max, Lizzie, Ari and all the boys?"
"Niall. Don't"
"I already have," he held up his phone, an email up, already sent, with pictures of my art.
Author's Notes ~
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