Once I've been lost by myself to be found by others who cared...

“Happy birthday dear Priya,” everyone sings, at the prompting of the Indian girl’s middle-aged father. “Happy birthday to you!” Priya blushes as she holds her long black hair out of her face, before blowing out the fifteen candles on her rich chocolate cake.

“Fifteen years old,” Mr. Malik says with palpable pride. “I almost can’t believe that my little girl is really growing up.”

“Dad!” Suriya says, making everyone giggle.

“’Little’, not ‘littlest’!” Mr. Malik says, making both Priya and Suriya blush.

"Aah..." I moan, hissing with pain as sensation returns to my body- the primary sensation being pain. Pain in my mouth, under my arm, my head, my stomach... But the worst pain is in my groin.

"Stuart?" A familiar female voice calls. "Stuart? Can you hear me?"

Jessica smiled for the passengers as they disembarked the plane, stretching their tired muscles after the long flight from Madrid.

“Thank you for flying with Soixante-Trois Airlines,” Jessica gushed in her practised overly-saccharine ‘stewardess’s voice’. “Enjoy your stay in London!”

“I live here, you dumb valley girl,” one of the passengers snorted as he passed Jessica with a backward glance.

I have a wide grin on my face as I hold up the small, brightly-coloured CD case, turning my face so that each of the cameras can get a clear view of me- and, of course, the CD, which is the real star of the show.

Typical me, always getting into arguments.

My name is Tim. I'm a senior in high school. This is the story about the time I took things too far.

I was on the basketball team at my high school. Recently, we had lost a game because of miscommunication. This was largely because of the cheerleaders. They were at fault because we couldn't hear over them. I chose to bring this up to Rachel, the head cheerleader.

"It wasn't our fault." She claimed.

"Yea it was. We couldn't hear each other over your stupid cheers," I rebutted.

I gently lower myself into one of the sofas in Charlotte’s vast ‘main room’, taking the weight off my aching feet before slipping off my stiletto heels and massaging the soles of my feet.

“Don’t let Hannah ever catch you doing that,” Viks giggles as she sits down next to me. “Unless you plan on going on Strictly yourself next year…”

“If they’ll have me,” I say, making Viks giggle.

“Why are you over here, anyway, and not with Sarah?” Viks asks. “Still falling out over what you were talking about yesterday?”