Sweat was pouring down my face and back as I did once last chin-up. I landed on my feet, wiping the back of my hand across my face. I saw Harry and Liam doing a sparring match. They were both into boxing. It was pretty fun to watch them fight too. Zayn was doing lifts with the bench press and I saw Louis cycling while watching the TV on the machine.

I was nowhere near as fit as these boys. Seeing how I had high metabolism and always ate, it was hard for me to keep a six-pack, so I mainly focused on my arms. I didn’t work-out near as long as them either, seeing how now I was hungry and pretty much over the whole exercising deal. This was our day off, and though we didn’t get physical near as much during tours, I’d much rather be sleeping. I grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat off of me as I left the boys to do their own thing and went to the changing room, doing a quick rinse in the shower and changing back into my clothes.

I saw the journal I left in my locker, sitting on the shelf close to eye-level. I grabbed it, shutting the door. I stopped by a few vending machines by the doors, grabbing a snack and water before finding a seat on a bench and relaxing against it. I opened the bag of pretzels, popping one in my mouth as I opened the journal, ready to read from where I left off yesterday.

Her past held a lot of pain, but it wasn’t all that. For the first few years of her life, all the way up until she was six years old, there was nothing but sheer happiness. Lacy was normal. She had a mother, a father, and did the things every child in their early life always did. She was carefree and young. Her innocence being the only excuse she had to do nothing but have fun. She mostly remembers the fifth birthday party her parents held for her, the first and only birthday party she remembered. Everyone was there, her parents, grandparents, little school friends and their parents, even the first boy she’s ever had a crush on. She remembers the little daisy he’s given her, something she asked her parents to press for her later on.

But ‘normal’ doesn’t always last forever. Things happen, people change, and soon that daisy she held became a souvenir of her past. That boy she so fancied didn’t stay long either, he left three years later. Her best friend, her first love, the only revenue that she knew wouldn’t change from her past, gone, leaving only the daisy and smoke of the memories she’d rather forget.

I reached my hand into the bag of pretzels, realizing now that the bag has been emptied. I sighed, still hungry, as I stood up, throwing the bag in the bin. In the process, the book slipped out of my hand, trying to catch it, I only knocked it away from the depths of the trashcan to where it landed on the floor. “Man, I got some butterfingers.” I muttered to myself, being over to get it.

Picking it up, I noticed something on the floor. I picked it up. It was small, a couple of inches tall. I stared, seeing a pressed flower. I looked around, wondering if anyone dropped it. Funny how I was reading about a daisy and next thing I know it magically comes out of nowhere…

I stared at it, then at the journal. I opened to the page I was on, putting the flower in it for a bookmark. I checked my phone, seeing how it took me a half an hour to read that little passage. One of the many things about being a non-reader, you were a slow reader. In my case, a very slow reader, since I was tending to my stomach at the time.

“Mate! There you are!” I heard Liam call to me.

I looked up, seeing the four lads walking toward me. “I’m hungry.” I said, slipping the book to its destine place in my back pocket.

“Same here. We’re going out to eat now.” Harry said.

Zayn put an arm around me as we all started walking toward the exit. “How’s the book coming, mate?” he asked me.

I shrugged. “It’s… getting better I guess. I’m still a little confused about some stuff though.”

Like the mere fact there was a pressed flower falling out of it. Plus, did stories really read like that? I thought stories were supposed to have a plot and organized storyline. This journal just jumps around, talking about Shakespeare one moment then jumping to childhood birthday parties the next.

Zayn squeeze my shoulder, offering a small smile.

Notes

Hm, well, it's obvious that this journal is about the girl's life, but it doesn't seem Niall is catching on to that yet. I wonder what it will take to realize what this journal is about her?

Oh, my goodness. Have you guys listened to Best Song Ever?

You know how bad I want to write a story about a girl named Georgia Rose?

Well, Harry sings that line, so maybe I will. Haha, wow, I seriously need a life. I'm just kidding, I'm not going to... or maybe I will... when i stop writing these freaking stories!