Angela plopped down on her bed and took off her shoes. It was enough for one day. She spent an hour talking about things she didn't want to talk about with a paid professional, she spent almost three hours sitting behind an instrument she didn't touch and greeting and chatting with literally each customer that came to buy something today from the supermarket. She had enough. And tomorrow was the same again, minus the talking part early in the morning.

She took her phone out and checked for any notifications. Two replies to her Instagram story. Cool!

The first one was, of course, Andrew with a cheeky reply; I had grape expectations for you. I am berry disappointed in you.

Chuckling, she liked the reply and sent him a peach emoji before checking the other reply. It was from a new thread. It was from Owen. He liked the story and replied to it. Damn, he was an active follower, that guy.

Nice one. How about, if you were a fruit, you'd be a fine-apple.

Angela stared at the message from Owen. So, he was the kind of guy who didn't seem to go around the corners. He cut straight to the chase. Or at least that's how it seemed. She held her phone in her hands, her thumbs ready to type a reply, yet she had nothing to write back. How was she supposed to reply to that either way? Fuck.

I don't even like pineapple.

Angela set down her phone on the bed and leaned back. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Finally some peace. After what seemed to be an eternity of the day, she could finally relax and do nothing for the rest of the night. Angela's phone went off again, signaling one new message. Owen.

Then you'd be the cherry on top of a cake and I'd cherry-ish you till the end of time.

Angela stared at the message, completely in shock as to what she would say to that. She had no jokes up her sleeve, she had no tricks to turn this around on him. A simple Instagram story with a pun became an extremely stressful situation. She now had a person flirting with her from what she understood, and she had no idea how to handle it. So Angela just locked her phone and set it down. She put him on seen simply because she had no idea how to reply. How do you reply to a message like that? Thanks? You too?

Angela sucked in a sharp breath and brought her legs up to her chest. She placed her head on her knees and closed her eyes, her arms wrapping around her legs. This was it for the day. She was exhausted from everything and all she wanted to do was watch some stupid show and fall asleep. If she could that is.

Her phone rang once more, signaling another notification. Grabbing her phone, she checked to see another message from drummerguy420.

Come on now, don't you disap-pear on me.

Okay, that one was a bad pun. But it made her chuckle and now it was easier to reply than to that flirtation.

Fine, fine. Orange you glad I stayed?

Angela loved puns, but she could feel her creativity dropping with each reply. She was too nervous to think of any good puns, she was too nervous to even come up with an idea what to write. A guy she met a few days back was now flirting with her through messages on Instagram and she had no idea how to react. How did he even find her on the social platform? Maybe he talked to Kaitlyn?

Okay that one I've heard it so many times it's embarassing.

Huffing, Angela quicly typed a reply back, not wanting to be judged based on her choice of puns. It was his fault he took her off guard!

My puns are a-maze-ing. You just have to catch me when I'm on a roll. During work usually.

Angela set down her phone, her screen showing the messages between her and Owen as she watched the bubble on his side of the conversation appear and disappear as he typed a reply.

Then I'll have to catch you at work. I'll come prepared, I'll have so many puns you won't be able to follow.

Angela chuckled and typed with her one finger, amused by the fact that Owen was prepared to see her at work, or at least he offered.

I have heard and made all the puns possible, so nothing you say will surprise me.

Angela turned off the screen of her phone and closed her eyes again. These messages reminded her of Kaitlyn. She hasn't talked to her since the concert. She needed to check up on her. But maybe not today, she did enough today. Kaitlyn can wait.

We'll see about that.

Angela smiled at the reply she recieved and set her phone on the coffee table in front of her. Angela was completely flattered to know that a drummer was flirting with her, but at the same time it was scary because she really didn't know how to react to it, how to reply to the flirtation and how to act. She has rarely been flirted with and even when she was it was usually to get something out of her. And because Angela was polite and couldn't say no, she was often used. So she avoided situations like these.

Besides, this whole flirting thing was stupid. Owen was a drummer and he had no doubt a lot of women around him. They just happened to talk to each other that night and he happened to follow her and comment on her story. It was stupid to even think that it could be something more. It was innocent flirting which Angela still didn't know if she liked or not, since she had a feeling like maybe Owen needed something from her, or was only having fun. Like guys sometimes do with girls.

So she tried not to think about it too much. Sure, someone flirting with you made you feel all flustered and think of the possibilities simple flirting could bring. It made you feel a bit more important and like you have a say and that people actually see you. It made her think like she could be that girl that falls in love with another musician and everything would be great in the world - creating music together, playing together, supporting each other in their musical ways.

But it was only a lie, daydreaming. That couldn't happen to her, it would be too simple and easy. Plus, knowing herself, she would probably wreck it one way or another with her own doubts and fears. But it was good to daydream a little, right? Someone gave her some kind of attention, something else than "Miss, where can I found the milk?" It felt good to be given some attention. But it made her feel scared and embrrased.

Trying to not focous too much on it, she opened her laptop which was waiting for her on the coffee table, and switched to the show she often watched; Friends. It was a classic and she loved it. She knew some episodes by heart at this point with how many times she rewatched the show. How I met your mother, Modern family, Family guy, Grey's anatomy, these were all guilty pleasures of hers. She spent so many hours watching those shows instead of practicing. But Friends were her go to always.

But even when watching shows she couldn't relax. All she thought about was how she was supposed to be practicing and not wasting time. It made her think of when Mr. Brady stopped her to comment on her practicing habbits. She didn't need a reminder of how bad she was doing, and yet she got it anyway. Why couldn't he just stay quiet? Now it was going through her head like a ferris wheel, though she couldn't seem to get off of it.

Angela sat there with her legs up against her chest and the show playing. She was in the middle of the third season, but she wasn't paying much attention. She couldn't. All she could think about was how she should be practicing. Her entrance exam was getting closer every day and she didn't even play through her programme once. She had four months left and she still needed to even write some fingerings on some pieces. Because she couldn't get around to do it.

That was a lie. She could get to it, she just couldn't start. That one damned first note was terrifying. If she had a bigger apartment, she could get her piano that her parents bought for her in it, but this one was too small to fit a whole piano in. She barely had enough room for her couch that acted as a bed when pushed down.

Angela's phone buzzed again which she didn't want to touch anymore for now. But noticing it was an email notification, it grabbed her attention. She took her phone in her hands and opened her email, seeing an email adress she hasn't seen before. Checking it more thoroughly, she realized it was actually her professor - her future piano professor she might get a chance to study with.

It felt like her heart sunk down in her stomach with the weigh of a big rock. Why was he emailing her? She didn't reach out to him yet, she only applied to the academy. Fuck. What now?

Hesitantly she opened it, fearing that maybe the professor knew her somehow and denied the request to even go to the entrance exams. She feared he wasn't going to accept her, she feared he was going to tell her that he had no interest in wroking with her, or that maybe the spots were all full at his class. So many things could go wrong in one simple email. So, she slowly read it, her fingers gripping on her phone and her heart beating loudly in her chest, or rather stomach.

Dear Angela,
If you don't know me yet, let me present to you. I am Ignacy Corrado, a professor at the Dance and Music Academy in Yorkton. I have noticed you applied for the entrance exams which are taking place in September.
I have made it a habit to meet each student applying for my class. Therefore I propose to you a meet up at the Academy in Yorkton. Come to my class and we can work on what you have prepared together for an hour. This would take place next month.
Let me know if you can make it.
Best,
Corrado

Angela stared at the email, at a loss of words. She didn't know one professor that would do that, meet up with possible future students and help them with their preparation. It was amazing.

It was scary.

Angela didn't have one piece prepared. She didn't go through her pieces at all in the last few months. Her pieces should be close to perfect at this point if she wanted to present it to the professor. She had to be prepared, she had to give a good impression, otherwise her entrance exams would fail big time even if she played well there.

This was a big opportunity, an opportunity she couldn't miss. Yet she was not prepared. So what was she going to do? She was screwed.

Bititng her lip, Angela set down her phone back on the table and closed her eyes. Friends were playing in the background as she thought about the email. She didn't have to reply right away, right? She could wait a few days, really digest this opportunity.

The solution was simple - start practicing.

The execution? Not so much.

If she didn't preform well with her first class with her professor, all her future possibilities would be ruined. She knew the professor, she met him one time when she was little and she always wanted to study under him. This was more stressful than it seemed. A lot was weighing on it. Her future, her well being, her hopes and motiviation. She put everything on it. This was it. This was the point where her whole future would be decided.

Angela could feel her heartbeat picking up, beating faster the more she thought about this class. But she couldn't stop, she couldn't stop worrying how it would turn out, what she would play, what he would say, how she would play, how disappointed he would be. Funny enough, no matter how she tried to imagine the class, she just couldn't see a good outcome. It always ended with her walking out of the door angry, frustrated and depressed, knowing her future ended right that second. She could only see it negatively.

Which made her think. Why would she even go? Why would she even try? Why did she actually even apply to the academy? She had no chance getting in, so why was she trying? She couldn't even imagine a good outcome at the class, let alone go to the entrance exams, play good there and actually be accepted.

This was useless, this was hopeless.

Angela got up from the couch and walked to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and looked at herself in the mirror. She can't do it, she can't ecen go to that class, how was she supposed to do everything else? Fuck, this made no sense.

Biting down on her lip, Angela splashed cold water over her face and tried to focous on her breathing. Her heartbeat was only getting faster and louder. She really didn't need this email, not now, not in the evening. Maybe in the morning she would be able to digest it, but not now. With her breathing picking up, she tried to calm herself down, splashing more cold water on her face just like her psychologist suggested.

Huffing, she dried her face with a towel and glanced towards the shower. Maybe a cold shower would help her calm down. Sighing, she took off her clothes and stepped inside the shower, turning cold water on. Cussing under her breath, she at first stepped away from the freezing water. But after touching it with her fingers and toes for a while, she finally convinced herself to step in, making her shiver and cuss again.

Why couldn't she calm down normally? Why did she have to take these measures?

Angela closed her eyes again and stood in the cold shower, the water running down her naked body, running down along her skin and to the floor. Her hair was wet, her whole body was wet but the heart was still beating fast. And her mind still didn't stop. She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face and let the water hit her face.

How was she supposed to do this?

Her heart beat faster. She wasn't able to calm down.

Her eyes opened and they immediately landed on the razor on the small shelf she had in the shower. Swallowing, her hand reached out to it and took it. It took her a while before she managed to get the sharp edges out, almost breaking the razor in half. Holding it in her hand, she looked down at it, the class still going through her mind.

Who was she kidding? She wasn't able to do it. She wasn't able to play one note, let alone have a class with the professor she adored.

And the first cut on her hip was made. It wasn't that deep, only a few small drops of blood gathering. Then the second one, all while the water was running down her body. It stung. But it managed to switch her thoughts to the cuts and how stupid she was to do them. Gritting her teeth, she set aside the sharp edge of the razor and gently placed her palm over her cuts.

This was so stupid.

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Hello everyone, I hoped you enjoyed this update!
Some messages sent between Angela and Owen. What do you think will happen?

Don't forget to vote, comment and follow!
It is much appreciated <3