#lham.starter

Alyson couldn’t remember a week that she hadn’t been in the hospital at least once. There were a slew of medical complications that she had been born with that she grew tired of reciting back to people whenever they asked what she had been afflicted with. Breathing was already hard enough. There was no point in wasting breath on something that someone could easily read off of a medical chart. Her parents tried as hard as they could to provide her with as normal of a life as possible; however, the complications became too much to maintain at home. Being admitted to the hospital right when she was about to graduate from high school felt like a for sure death sentence.

She supposed that she should be happy that she had been granted several more years than what her doctors had thought, but the hospital felt like a prison to her. She was about to age out of pediatric unit. She wondered oftentimes if it would be a gift to her parents if she just allowed them to stop treating her. What was the point? She wasn’t living. She was supposed to graduate from high school soon. She was supposed to spend this time out partying, living her best life, not staring at the mundane walls that taunted her day after day.

Aly stared at the tray of pills in front of her. These were not the pills that she wanted but they kept her alive. It wasn’t the kind of alive that she had hoped for, but it was all for her parents. They were paying for her treatment. There was no point in being ungrateful by refusing the care. She sighed, wishing that today would bring something different other than waiting to die.

It wasn’t difficult to find her. Ever since the new world order came into play after Voldemort’s fall, the Blacks became even more high profile in society than before. Narcissa and her sisters were relatively sought after, but Lucius didn’t think that would provide him with much trouble. He himself was amongst the high ranks with his father overseeing the Abraxus Black Memorial Clinic, so he was just a short stop down Knockturn Alley to be able to visit her at her tutoring business.

Lucius grabbed his things after his shift ended and made his way over to the tutoring center, which had already garnered a particularly long line. Parents seemed eager to get their children in, and who could blame them? Getting set up with this type of advantage would help further their children before they even realized what kind of privilege they held. He bypassed the crowd and slipped into the building, searching for the familiar blonde. As soon as he spotted her, he sauntered over and sat near her desk, waiting for her to be done with a student.

It had been an interesting summer for Camilla to say the least, especially with the events from a few weeks ago. It had meant to be a fun concert, not that it was anything less than that, but never would she have imagined things would go as they did. She’d went with one of her close friends to see the girl in concert, absolutely adoring her music and possibly having a small celebrity crush on her. It wasn’t until late into the night that her friend revealed she’d snagged a backstage pass for the both of them to meet and get pictures with Maisie. It had been some competition on social media they’d won, something Cam usually strayed far from as social media only seemed to bring drama. She’d been nervous meeting the girl, but pushed through her nerves in order to get a few pictures, Maisie seeming interested in getting one on her own phone as well. She’d thought that was it, they had a small meet and greet and Cam would never hear from the girl again. That’s how these things worked right?

One thing lead to another though, and it in fact was not the last time they’d speak. When Cam woke up the next morning, she had dozens of messages and missed calls from her friends. Not really knowing how to work the app, she’d made a face time call with a friend who sent her the post. It was the picture, the one Maisie had taken of the two of them. And the caption- she’d called her pretty? It was enough to practically make Cam’s heart melt. Her friend insisted she make an account, thinking they could somehow reconnect. It all seemed too crazy to Cam, but she agreed, followed by her friend tagging her newly made account in the post. Then, almost as quickly as she had tagged her, Maisie had followed her back.

For weeks, it seemed like that’s all it was, just a simple follow to a lucky girl she’d met at her concert. Camilla had dedicated herself to making sure to actually post on the app, figuring she might as well if she was going to have the app. It was mostly her artwork, which seemed to gain her quite a few followers, but she did question sometimes if the followers came from the tag. Then one day, she decided to post a photo of herself. She hadn’t even seen much being posted by Maisie lately, so when the notification came up on her phone that she’d liked the photo, Cam immediately thought it had to be some kind of mistake. Though as if it was surprise after surprise, another notification popped up. No way, she’d thought to herself. She’d commented on the photo, but Cam found herself too anxious to click the notification, and for a few hours she found herself avoiding the app. She had no thought that it could be bad, but all of it had seemed to good to be true.

When Cam did finally gain the courage to look at the comment, she felt her heart stop for a moment. It was a sweet compliment, and Cam couldn’t find the words to reply. Would a thank you not be enough? What if she typed too much? She ultimately decided to just like the comment, before locking the screen and tossing it across her bed. Ignoring the device the rest of the day seemed logical now, seemed the best way to keep her nerves down. However, when her phone went off, signaling she’d received a message on the app, her curiosity got the best of her. The only people who messaged her through the app were her friends, but there it was, Maisie’s profile picture beside a new message notification. It was too late, she could already see the message. What on earth was going on? This seemed to be like some kind of prank at this point. Opening the message, she stared at the screen for a good fifteen minutes, trying to decide what to say-or if she should even reply at all. She began typing several times, only to delete the words moments later and begin again. She did eventually settle on a simple, ‘Hey, how’s the tour going?’ before hitting send. Was that too much of a friend thing to ask? Groaning, she laid back on her bed. “Really, Cam?” She grumbled to herself, the message now seeming lame to her. This was like talking to a crush, except way more nerve wracking. Maisie was a celebrity, someone who obviously had better things to be doing than texting a fan.

“Fuck,” she cursed loudly as she reached the counter, having only just then realized she’d forgotten to bring her wallet. “This really is my damn day, just go ahead of me,” she mumbled to the person behind her, stumbling back a few steps and accidentally knocking into a chair, tipping it into the table of the person seated there. “Well, shit.”