It was Thursday afternoon, and life was peaceful in the McFly house.
Dougie was in his bedroom playing his bass.
Danny flicked aimlessly through the channels on the TV, stopping every now and then to watch fragments of TV-shows.
Tom was consumed in his copy of Dan Brown's "Angels and Demons", and Harry was reading the latest issue of TV-hits.
Everything was peaceful – but not for long.
Suddenly, the air was ripped by the sound of "Born in the USA" by Bruce Springsteen.
The song kept on playing and Tom lifted his gaze from the book, and Harry copied this motion.
They looked at each other, then they yelled, "Danny!"
Danny jumped in his seat. "What?"
"Your phone!" Tom and Harry said at the same time.
"Oh," Danny said, getting his phone out of the pocket and picked up.
"Hello? Oh, hi! I'm good thanks, you? Great to hear. Yeah, it's been a while. Uh-huh? Uh-huh? Er, no, I'm kinda busy at the moment so.. But otherwise I'd love to. Okay, see you around sometime. Okay, bye."
Danny hung up.
"Who was that?" Harry asked.
"Dunno," Danny replied, "some bird I met months ago at a club. Don't remember her."
Harry and Tom gazed knowingly at each other, then went back to reading.
A little while later, a thunder roared through the McFly house, and the sizzling of rain was heard from outside.
Tom lifted his gaze from the book once more.
"About bloody time," he said, "this pressured heat has been killing me!"
Suddenly the doorbell rang.
No one reacted.
It rang again.
"Alright then, I'll get it." Harry grumbled, putting away his magazine.
As he walked to the door, it rang again.
"Alright, I'm on my way, chill!" he yelled, only to have his voice drown out in the sound of the doorbell.
As he opened the door, he unknowingly thanked God for his good reflexes.
A split second later, a figure fell into his arms.
It was a young woman, approximately 17-18 years old.
He stared at her for a moment.
Then he yelled, "Guys! I need some help! Now!"
She was pale, her eyes were closed and she was shaking.
