Blue Velvet

If something happens to me –like for example, get murdered by a certain boy band member-, I’m going to haunt Michelle until she gets so ugly (read: if it’s possible) by the horror I’ll bring her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked after getting dragged by her lunatic of a younger sister.

Without wasting any time, and the morals my parents taught us, I pointed at David Beckham 2.0 discreetly and screamed, “I got flirted, Michelle!”

It didn’t sound proud at all. Horrified would be how I’d describe it actually.

“You talked to Liam?”

“Not just talk! There was flirting involved! Someone should give me a medal for this achievement!” I screamed at her. The vodka was currently taking its effect on me, hence me screaming at the top of my lungs. Thank God Andrea’s music is goddamn loud.

“Now, what do I do?!” I was in full blown panic mode.

Michelle frowned back. “Why are you asking me?”

“Well, help me because I don’t know what to do! David Beckham look-a-like asked me if I wanted to get out of here with him!”

“Easy. Just go with him.” She gave me a big grin and said, “Velvet, have a great time! Show Liam Payne how you’re a wild one!”

I said ‘help me’, not fucking ‘frustrate me even more’! Ugh.

“Liam is a nice guy. He’s just like the other lads.” Like who? Mr. Fake Blondie who just said my cousin’s gay and the let’s not start with racists Mr. Receding Hairline? Well, then I’m not going. But Michelle held my shoulder and pushed me to walk back at the bar. “He’ll take care of you. There’s nothing to worry about. He’s Liam Payne from One Direction!”

I turned around back at Michelle, a few steps away from David Beckham 2.0 and stomped my feet. “Okay, stop!”

“I’ll go with him, but first…” I took the small recorder hanging from my neck and brought it to her lips.

I had this personalized recorder ever since I could remember. It looks more of a pendant next to my med ID dog tag which Mom and Dad made me wear, advised by my physician herself because I’m a ‘special’ case. My entire school life wouldn’t be possible if it wasn’t for this. I wouldn’t be able to pass my pre-med if it wasn’t because of coffee and the impossible amount of hours I recorded my reviews. Every direction to every possible place I needed to remember, every single thing I need to remember, it was recorded in this life saving device. I literally wouldn’t be able to function like a normal person if it wasn’t with the help of my voice recorder.

“You know the drill, Unni.”

Michelle frowned. “I thought you’re not using that anymore?” she asked.

The truth is, since Michelle left for U.K., I kind of lied that I’m slowly trying not to depend on it anymore. I did try not to use it once, but then I got lost in the borders of Malaysia –which I still can’t explain why I got there by myself-, anxiety and social fear kicked in and I almost lost it.

Told you, I’m a special case.

And so I shrugged. “Just in case he’s actually a jerk who won’t take me back home, and if I die this is the easiest way the police could trace you and blame you for making your little sister go with a lady killer.”

Michelle must have forgotten, it was standard precautionary measure.

“You won’t need that. Liam’s-”

“I’m not going with him unless you give me directions to your house first.”

“Velvet, this is unnecessary.” She insisted.

“Record or I’ll make you write it down. It’s your choice, Michelle.” I taunted here. I’m not going to lose it here in London.

I could tell she’s disappointed. She must have thought her little sister’s already improving. Don’t get me wrong, Michelle’s always been so supportive. She’d always tell me she won’t let anything bad happen to me, but she insists that I function by myself. I’ve tried, but I failed.

“Fine. But this is the last time you’ll use this recorder here in London, Velvet.” Michelle snatched the recorder from me and cupped it in her hands so she could record clearer. After when she’s done, she put it back to my handbag and snickered, “Why need to ask for directions when you’re literally going with One Direction.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Fuck you.”

“Ooh! Don’t forget to use protection! Daddy and Mommy will kill me if I flew you here to London so you could just get pregnant!” she giggled.

Oh my god.

Speaking of David Beckham 2.0, when I turned back around to face him, he was already looking back at me. He had both of his elbows plopped down at the bar’s table, with a smirk etched on his goddamned face.

It screams ‘Fuck me’.

I blushed.

The sole thought that I could be fucking this hot tamale tonight is already a torture down the panties. Wait. Did I wear sexy Victoria’s Secret lingerie or not? Fuck. I can’t remember.

And that could only mean two things;

Either I’ll forever regrets this decision or maybe I won’t remember a single thing that happened when I wake up tomorrow.

I’m not sure which one I’m settled with.

----------(Blue Velvet)----------

This is what I’m scared of.

I do not know in what place in fucking London, England David Beckham 2.0 has brought me.

I knew this was something I should not have done in the first place. Remember when your parents told you never talk to strangers and if they ask you to come with them you don’t go with them.

Well, I can’t. I can’t even remember what my own Mom said to me before I took off.

But then again, if I’ll go with what they said, how will I grow as a person? How do I begin an adventure they’ve been begging me to partake ever since I became a legit adult?

So back to where I am-

Oh wait, that’s the problem. I don’t fucking know where the hell am I!

“Are you alright there?” David Beckham look-a-like asked me as my eyes scanned his luxurious bachelor’s pad.

It isn’t too late to get out now.

Okay, don’t fucking make yourself look ridiculous, Velvet Ferrol.

“Velvet?” he called me out again, remembering my name. He was still behind the bar at his kitchen, pouring wine in two glasses. “Is red wine fine with you?”

Act cool. Please, just this once. Act like a normal bitch who wants to have some meat for the night.

He’s just a David Beckham look-a-like. Be thankful that you get to bag a hot goddamned lad. Why so choosy? What’s the worst that could happen, right?

RIGHT?!

Sex couldn’t be that bad, right? How many girls could tell that David Beckham look-a-like was her first time? I won’t regret giving my virginity to this guy, right? Because it’s just sex, right?

RIGHT?!

Damn it. Michelle said just have fun while you can.

Fuck it.

I’m twenty fucking one, for crying out loud! Being liberated isn’t a fucking sin. I’m just going to have fun, that’s what twenty one year old girls like me do all the time! Hell, I could whore out anytime I want –just safely. There’s nothing wrong with having fun while you’re young. Live while you’re young! (Read: Again, I might be referencing a song by One Direction. I can’t honestly remember.)

Fuck this shit! I want to whore out just for once and see if it’s my destiny!

I’m going to whore the fuck out tonight!

“So, Velvet…” he handed me one of the champagne glass from his hands and asked, “What are you here for?”

That was actually just Basic English question, but my brows furrowed in confusion.

Would it be too forward to tell him that I was here for sex?

That sounded a bit desperate in the back of my head.

The last thing I remember, I wasn’t desperate to have sex with anyone tonight. I was just jetlagged. What I’m desperate for his to lie on a soft bed and cuddle with a pillow.

I bet he’s got a king-sized bed in here, with soft duvets and big, fluffy pillows, but instead of cuddling a pillow…I could just cuddle with him-

Naked.

You hear me screaming yet?

“I’m sorry. What I meant was that are you here in London for a visit or will you be staying here longer, like for work or some of that sort?”

“Actually, I’m here to study.”

“Oh, that’s so cool. And in what degree are you in to study?”

“I just got accepted to King’s University to study medicine. I wanted to be a doctor someday.”

It was strangely weird that I’m telling this to him. I was getting more comfortable with having a conversation and share a drink with a person I just like in like fifteen minutes ago, and it isn’t so bad at all.

Strangely weird. Strangely new. Strangely liking the feeling.

“Awesome.” He smiled back at me.

I was starting to wonder if he’s also comfortable with talking to me. Well, he’s taken me to his house to sort of get to know each other. He must be interested, right? I have never done anything like this before and it’ll be so weird to do something stupid for the first time-

“Shit!”

The curse word was the only thing I gave in response as of the mere second that passed and David Beckham 2.0 advanced towards me and brought his face near my exposed neck. His warm lips planted against my skin.

Both of us were stunned. I stepped back, generously far from the flustered David Beckham 2.0.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized back, in which I don’t understand why I was doing. “I…um. It’s just that-, I’m sorry-”

“No. Don’t apologize. It’s alright.”

As I told you that I’m a novice to all this sort of intimacy. I was stuck frozen in place as I felt his arms drape around my waist and guided me to his flat’s living room.

“You know what, let’s just enjoy this delicious wine together and like just have a really nice time together, yeah?”

This has to be the weirdest night I have ever had.

So after a few more glasses of the champagne, which someone ended us opening another bottle because David Beckham had so many things going on that he won’t shut up, we were drunk -like really, really drunk.

Drunk Asian lassie. Check.

Drunk dude to possibly bang. Double fucking check!

Possible drunk sex in t-minus fifteen minutes? Are you fucking kidding me?! Hell the fuck yeah! Unleash the beast in me.

We talked about all sorts of general, I’m sure I’ll forget after all this alcohol in my system. I found myself resting my head in his arms, and we were sitting way too close to one another. Personal space seemed to not matter when I’m with an equally drunk lad with me.

“Can I ask you something? It’s…” he grinned, “It’s actually something I’ve been dying to ask since the first time I saw you in the party.”

“What is it?”

“Will someone get mad at me if I do this?”

And right before I knew it, his lips were firmly pressed right on my own.

I felt all shock gone through my body, especially the lower regions that were pretty crossed.

It was my cue:

Let the whoring begin.

His lips met mine in a delicate, slow rhythm. When my lips began to move against his, the kiss became harder, more passionate.

When we broke apart, we were out of breath and left with shocked expression.

Seconds later, I was standing directly in front of him, looking down all doe-eyed and innocent – even though the thoughts that were running through my head were anything but that. I placed my hand gently on his chest – not to push him away, but so I could touch him. I wanted to touch him.

I stepped up in front of him and he reached for me, taking my hand in his and pulling me on top of him. My legs fell on either side of his lap and I could feel him going hard again against my thigh. The dress I wore hiked way too high, my knickers almost exposed and I felt his fingers caress the side of my bare leg. My eyes immediately took notice. He stilled his movements and I looked into his eyes. He was looking back at me.

My fingers came up to intertwine in his hair as his hands gripped my hips pulling my body against his.

“I guess the answer was none then.”

And with that he grabbed me by the face and planted a hungered kiss on my lips.

----------(Blue Velvet)----------

My whole body hurt. Somewhere in between my thighs were burning in pain as I tried to twist out of the tangles of bed sheets.

That was the only thing that registered in my head as it was spinning madly as I tried to get up and see where I was.

But one thing was for sure.

I was naked underneath the thick blue duvet that slightly covered me. And damn, I was naked to an equally naked Greek god beauty that was sent from up above to make Velvet Ferrol’s night.

I groaned sleepily and pulled the sheet with force so I could cover myself up as I crawled out of the bed. When I turned my back around to see him, my jaw dropped.

He was sprawled on the bed, his ass bare and was a fucking joy in the sight to see a few red lines that were pretty much scratches from my long fingernails.

I shit you not that I, Velvet Eunice Yeun Ferrol, fucked that!

Slowly –just like my brain-, it dawned to me.

I just had sex. Not just sex, I just had sex with a member of the bubblegum boy band pre-pubescent teens and Michelle liked for years.

And I really can’t remember his real fucking name. What would I tell people when they asks me whom did I share my first time with? Dude, people won’t believe me if I say I fucked the guy in One Direction, that lad who looks like he’s a carbon copy of David Beckham. I’m fucking ugly, alright. I’ll need a sex tape to prove we did the deed.

The deed I can’t remember because I was drunk and my brain only has low memory.

Damn it.

I scanned the bedroom floor for my clothes, only to find the mess left of the ruined black dress.

Michelle’s going to kill me.

It got torn unceremoniously like it’s been ripped in the center by an attack dog. It was completely tattered. Did I or was that his doing?! What the heavenly fuck did we do last night?! Wait. I wasn’t raped, was I?

Ah, shit. Yow memory crappy, Ferrol. Don’t even dare think too much or the good-functioning brain cells will fry too and you’ll be history instead.

I went to grab my purse that was thank god lying untouched on the living room’s table. The first thing I went to find was my cellphone.

To my dismay, the stupid piece of junk was dead. I can’t believe I spent 400 dollars on this stupid shit. Apple, you fucking suck my ass!

I rummaged through my purse and took out my last save. Hopefully the only thing that’ll salvage my life right now is my voice recorder.

I pressed play and listened to Michelle’s instructions:

“The best way to satisfy a guy with a blowjob is to deep throat him. Give him sensual stares while you suck him like a juicy Popsicle. Oh, and don’t forget to scream his name. Men love it when they hear girls scream their name. It’s said to increase the man’s libido. Don’t scream like you’re dying though, that’d be ridiculous! Scream his name like you’ve reached the top of Mt. Everest –that loud. My little sister, enjoy Liam Payne’s 10 inches dick! Hahaha! I should hear if it’s actually real, alright?!”

It was fucking disappointing. Why did I even trust my own sister?

My frustrations got heightened when I saw in the recorder’s screen that it’s just hit seven in the morning. My school’s orientation starts in an hour. My entire dream to be a doctor depends on that first orientation. I’m screwed big time. My whole life is screwed.

I collapsed at the floor as I tightly clutched on the sheet of fabric on my chest. With eyes closed, I leaned my head against the wall and groaned, “How do I go home now?”

“Where do you live?”

I felt my eyes were teary soon as I opened them to see who was watching me do my own Korean drama still on the floor.

The fifth dude of One Direction who was missing last night on their anniversary party was crouching down in front of me. He appeared out of nowhere. I didn’t even hear the front door opened or something. Has he been here the whole time? Did he live here too?

I’ll call him-

“I’m Zayn,” I just heard him said. “I’m Liam’s friend.”

Okay, well then, I’ll call him Zayn. I can’t even mock him because between us, I looked shitter.

“Erm, yeah, how about you wear something decent first? It’s kind of awkward.”

Both of our eyes fell upon the ruined dress in my side.

“Oh…sorry about that, I’ll just get you some of Liam’s clothes then.”

He left for a few second to go grab clothes from the room. When he came back, he handed me a red flannel bottoms and a black t-shirt. “Those are the only small ones in his drawer. Everything’s probably too large for you.” he said as he turned around to let me dress.

It’s hard to believe someone from One Direction has actual morals. And that’d be the Zayn one.

Brain, I beg you just this once take a note of that. Forget the other members, that’d be fine, but not him.

One Direction dude with morals = Zayn.

Zayn.

Z
A
Y
N

ZAYN.

And I’d hate to admit it, he’s bang-able. His stare alone screams joy to the world down below my knickers. I’d so bang him like a screen door in a hurricane. Loud and proud.

Shut the fuck up, Velvet.

“It’s hard to wake Liam when he’s too hung over. If you wait for him, you’ll probably go home around after lunch, that’s if Liam could even get out of the bed.” He looked nonchalant at me, like he’s done rescuing girls like me before. “We’ve told him to stop doing- miss, are you okay?”

But even before I could muster my voice so to speak, my lips started to shake. My face crumpled in the not so pretty way Korean girls’ faces does. Someday, I’m going to win the worst k-drama actress in history. I’m not even an actress.

It was a huge slap for me. I was just a one-night stand. Why do I feel horrible now when just last night I said I wanted to whore out? I’m a huge mass of frustration.

Honey, your first time isn’t special. It’s nothing but a one night stand, just like what sluts do -a slut like you.

My face fell on my hands and right there, I cried.

“Wait, don’t cry. It’s alright. I’m going to help you. Please miss, don’t cry.” I heard Zayn told me, worry in every bit of his tone. “Don’t worry. Just tell me where you live and I’ll help you get home.”

“Singapore.”

My whole life is a big joke.

He looked at me and I swear I almost hit my face at the wall. You’re a freaking moron, Velvet.

“Oh-kay…maybe waking Liam is a good idea.”

I managed to scare 4/5 of One Direction in our first encounters but then also successfully had sex with the last member –all without trying so hard.

This day started just like how I imagined my first day in London, England would be.

A huge fucking disaster.

Notes

What do you expect from a weird writer? Well of course a weird storyline. Haha! Just kidding! Just kidding! We’ll get there, promise. Just stick with me. :D

Lemme know what you think!

@_AndieTiu

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