It was time to demand from Michelle’s tight schedule.

“Please tell me you’re not lost or something.”was her forewarning when she answered my call after the fourth ring.

I frowned back, resisting from rolling my eyes at her when she can’t clearly see me do so. I’d rather have her witness it. “Can’t I call my sister without having to worry her that I am lost in the middle of nowhere and needs of saving?”

“If your name isn’t Velvet, then that is quite possible.”Michelle mocked. “Why are you calling? I’m in the middle of a therapy session with a client. If this isn’t an emergency, then-”

“Michelle…” I cried. Well, more like whined. It is very much okay to whine, especially now when I need her the most. “I haven’t seen you in days!” I exclaimed.

“Should I remind you that we live in the same house? Are you sure you’re Velvet? Oh, wait.”

“Yes, but you’re really never there. I mean, come on, I didn’t fly my flat ass the entire way to London just to study all day and endure the bitch majesty that is Andrea Hann. I came here to spend time with you. My sister!” I told her. “I went to London because I miss you, Unni.”

“Oh, Vel… I’m so sorry. It’s just that I have so many commitments in the school and in the hospital. I hardly even have time for myself. I should make time for you, I know, considering we haven’t seen and bonded in years! Oh god, I’m like the worst sister right now.”

I felt bad for making Michelle feel that way. I know she has priorities. I completely understand that. And I shouldn’t be acting like a brat, but I’m her sister. I shouldn’t book an appointment in her tight schedule just so we can chat and have some sisterly bonding.

And I really need my sister for some advice regarding some events that’s happening with my life right now. Like, how I’m spending more time with a boy band and their writing buddy slash my neurotic cousin than my very own sister, and also the fact Liam Payne was telling the whole world we’re kind of together because he kept telling his followers that we are in those tweets Andrea kept showing me.

(Read: I still refuse to make a Twitter account just like what Andrea suggested because I know all I’ll get will be hate and death threats. So, no thank you.)

I don’t think Michelle even knows I’m hanging out with One Direction because she never got to ask me what happened after I went home with Liam that night at the party.

Plus, I’m kind of done with Andrea. She’s the reason why I’m constantly at the band’s loft listening to them bicker about song choices and all that jazz when I’m supposed to be at our own apartment and studying in peace. But nooooo. She just always had to drag me with her, like she purposely wanted me to be friends with her employers slash mates. I couldn’t put my concentration in my portfolio and books because Andrea and the boys are quite loud. I even came to the point when I recorded one song –that one Curly Hipster mentioned will definitely make their album- and was a click away from posting them on my Tumblr account so I could blackmail them and maybe get famous. I just realized I don’t want to get my name, and probably Andrea’s too, sued by their management.

(Read: Yes, I do have a Tumblr account and I’m addicted to it. I’m one of those bloggers that has a kickass user name and nobody will ever think it’s that girl Liam claims to be dating.)

And Liam. Oh, my holy fuck. Liam and his entirety is the biggest distraction of all. He just has to be sweet all the time. He makes me tea and always asks if I needed anything, or how he’d tell my crazy cousin and the other crazy boys to lower their voices down so I can concentrate. But I couldn’t, especially when he takes a break from them and stays with me in the room.

With Liam and I alone in the confinement of four walls, I can’t tell you the amount of sexual tension that happens. If I didn’t have homework due or that the walls in the loft aren’t exactly soundproof, I’ll 100% be doing the nasty with him in the room.

But of course, I won’t. I still have some dignity left in me and I couldn’t do it in Zayn’s bed. I mean, I couldn’t do Liam in Zayn’s bed. I’d do Liam in his own bed.

If I’m going to fuck someone in Zayn’s bed, it’ll be Zaynie Poo.

Or if they’re totally down with it, a threesome in that king sized bed sounds more fun.

Wow, and here I claim that I have dignity. Whole loads of bull. I was once so innocent.

Again, that’s whole loads of bullshit.

But do you know what’s not shitty some? How Liam Payne took it. How I lost my innocence to the master of Payne will be a good chapter in the One Direction’s history book if someone ever decided to write one.

I wonder how many notes I’d get on Tumblr if I do a little storytelling about it. Or would my followers believe it happened in real life or am I just trying to be a fan fiction writer.

“Velvet?” Michelle called again from the other line. I may have dozed of a little for thinking of a good introductory line for the Tumblr story (read: fanfic?).

“Yes, I’m still here.”

“You know what, I’ll take a day-off tomorrow, just for you. I’ll spend the whole day with you, whatever you want to do, we’ll squeeze everything tomorrow. I promise.”

I already knew Michelle couldn’t resist me. I’m too irresistible.

After ending the conversation with Michelle, I already had another person calling me.

“Hey love, do you want to go and have lunch together sometime? I suddenly had this massive craving of some Korean food, mostly because I’m thinking about you.”

It was Liam.

For the past four weeks (read: time flies when you’re having fun), it’s always been Liam.

I told you so. Velvet Ferrol is fucking irresistible.

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

After my last class got cut off an hour earlier than scheduled, I found out Andrea had some important commitments to attend and that she has taken Rose with her, which meant I have no ride home. I can’t call Michelle because I know her shift in the hospital doesn’t end till 10 in the evening. And she didn’t buy me a car so I could ask for ride from her. Andrea just sometimes forgets that Rose was technically my damn car.

But instead of giving me directions which bus number to take so I could go home by myself, Andrea gave me One Direction’s loft address.

I’ve been to the loft countless of time before, maybe even more frequent than I was home in our own apartment. I’d like to say I don’t need to be told about the exact address but I guess Andrea was being careful not to get me lost, in which I am thankful that she still has a heart that cares for my well-being. And she’s told me to be very careful not get noticed by fans that could be lurking somewhere near the building and take the back door instead.

I almost considered it a miracle when I reached the house and never did once get the itch to call for back-up. I quickly let myself in after finding the spare key in the third from the left of the flower pots hanging in the backdoor porch. I have never felt so proud of myself for sneaking inside someone else’s home without the owner’s knowing. I may or may not have bust a move, but let’s keep that a secret.

I don’t even know why I’m here. I suppose Andrea told the boys I’d be coming to the loft without her, or there will be quite a surprise once one of the boys find me raiding their refrigerator –which was currently empty. I was so hungry after trying so hard not to get lost while finding their house and now I’m very disappointed because five multimillionaires couldn’t keep their fridge stacked with food for their guest, or even for themselves. Or maybe I should be blaming their personal assistants for not doing the grocery shopping.

With nothing else better to do and assuming that nobody’s home because of the lack of noise, I started giving myself a house tour since no one bothered before. Either everyone’s busy or they’ve already suspect I’ve snooped, which was very rude. I’m not a snoop. Mama and Papa Ferrol taught us manners. And this isn’t even snooping. I’m just saving them their energy and their precious time, which is limited in the book of the boys, as per what Andrea told me.

So I began my conquest on the loft. It wasn’t very big to begin with. A decent kitchen and dining area, a spacious living room with fluffy couches and a wall decked with the biggest flat screen television and every game console they owned. The house has four rooms. One was made to be the soundproofed recording area and the rest were the boys’ bedrooms, though they don’t really live there. Liam has his own while the rest of them share with one another, but most of the time Liam’s room becomes Andrea’s and or mine when we wanted to sleep in, or in my case when I needed to study in peace. Staying for the night only happened once when Andrea, Harry and Niall got drunk on four bottles of vodka. Apparently alcohol helps in making the best songs ever. I don’t even know if that’s just a crazy thought or what, but Liam said some of their singles were written while one was in the influence of alcohol. Andrea couldn’t drive us home and the boys insisted we stay for the night even though I could have just called Michelle to come pick us up. But Andrea was way too passed out so I had no choice but to agree on staying there. I also kind of didn’t want to have Michelle think I’m the bad influence to our younger cousin, for letting her get drunk.

Liam gave me clothes that night again, and I slept peacefully on those too. But I imagined it would have been a better sleep if he was beside me.

Even though I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first time she gets drunk with these lads, of course I’m not going to let my drunk cousin be alone in a house with five boys. Well, only two because Louis and Zayn don’t even look remotely interested on Andrea romantically and I’m pretty positive Liam only has his eyes on me (read: ego boost yay). Harry and Niall are very close to her. I’m more responsible than what I look like, and I wasn’t going to let Andrea do any stupid things with either Harry or Niall, or worse with both of them because I could only assume that both of them still have perfectly working penises. See what happened to Liam and I before? That drunken incident lead to this –me hung up on a question of what’s our real score and Velvet Ferrol featuring internal frustration. Sexual frustration on top of all.

If anyone’s curious, no, we haven’t done any frick fracking since that one time he took me and my precious virginity. I’m not only frustrated that I can’t remember anything that’s happened, but I’m also kind of frustrated that I have a gorgeous boy completely head over heels with me but I can’t even get a kiss or two.

I began roaming around the boys’ respective rooms. I guess it’s not that exciting since I’m not that big of a fan, and really what’s going to surprise me? They’re a bunch of boys. I could see if who’s got the most stock of condoms in their drawers. With just a hunch, I bet it’ll be Harry. He did confess that he spied on my little cousin, which still makes me cringe. Andrea only just turned nineteen a few months ago. She’s still our baby bitchirina.

Next to Liam’s room was where Niall and Harry shared one. The whole room was not that clean but not that much of a mess either. There was a bed big enough for two people. A mini fridge was next to the telly with some stack of DVDs. There were two acoustic guitars next to the wall. The night stand has a few books and a half consumed bottle of water. A few clothes were littering the floor –one of which I recognized is Andrea’s favorite yellow bunny hoodie- but that’s it. Harry and Niall definitely don’t stay here to consider it a living quarters.

Adjacent to the room was where I assume Louis and Zayn shared. Same king sized bed, same stuff and amenities but was significantly much cleaner and neater than the three other boys. It was also the biggest in size, and it has a bathroom of its own.

The bed was made but it was obvious that someone had just lied down on the other half and didn’t bother tucking it in again. And whoever was on the bed earlier has forgotten his cellphone.

Now this was definitely snooping.

I did contemplate for a second but then just shrugged and checked on the phone. The phone’s screensaver was a blurred picture of a blonde haired girl who has her back facing the camera when the picture was taken was. I assume she’s a girlfriend.

Someone has a girlfriend? Huh. I definitely wasn’t informed about that.

I stared at her picture for a while and then slide to unlock. It didn’t have a password. Oh god. Whoever owns the phone is so irresponsible for leaving his unsecured phone around. What if he left this phone somewhere else? His secrets could have been leaked-

A frown formed when my eyes quickly scanned at what popped on the screen.

Zayn was slowly walking me backwards and I was blissfully unaware where he was leading me until the backs of my knees met with the edge of the bed and we were collapsing down onto it. I didn’t even protest that the other boys could come knocking on his room to asks us to come and celebrate the end of their show – my willpower wouldn’t allow it because it was now under Zayn’s spell. Those damn boys better know now is not the right time to disturb us.

His hands fumbled at the hem of my tank top, before he was pulling it up over my head – and again I allowed it because I couldn’t find the strength or a reason not to. I pulled his grey shirt off of his body before he tore my bra away as fast as he could.

This was his time, and I was his muse.

Zayn’s mouth swept down my neck and left a delicate trail of kisses across my collar bone before they attached to my left nipple. And I was moaning as my fingers intertwined in the jet black locks on his head. This foreplay was making me go wild. His mouth moved swiftly over to my other awaiting nipple – using the same frenzy inducing techniques that he had on the last one. His skills were astounding and I was seriously questioning how Zayn Malik is not considered a god with how he’s doing me.

What the fuck? Is this…Oh my god, is someone reading fan fiction?! A fan story about Zayn?!

Someone call TMZ… or much better call Jesus H. Christ. Someone badly needs to get exorcised.

But before I could further read on, the bathroom door opened. To make things worse, it was Zayn that came out, shrieking loudly the very second our eyes met. I yelled as loud as he did and jumped out of the bed, leaving the phone back on the mattress and clutching on my chest because I swear I almost had a legit heart attack.

“Velvet?!”

“You don’t do that!” I exclaimed. “God!”

“What?!”

“Come out unannounced and scream like a little girl! You could’ve killed me, you know!”

Zayn just stared at me with confusion all over his face. Fuck.

My eyes went wide and I felt the heat creeping in my face. “Oh my god… I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t even be here-” And I know I shouldn’t be touching your phone, or finding out that you’re reading fanfics. Zayn Malik is reading Zayn Malik fan fiction for fuck’s sake!

“It’s okay. For a second right there I just thought you’re a fan who got her way inside the house.” Zayn said, taking steps towards me until we were just a few inches apart. We were so close that I could smell his Axe body spray. He smells so much better than Liam, actually.

Whoa. Back up right there, Velvet.

Don’t get me wrong in here. Zayn and I are friends. I mean, I think we’re friends and that I didn’t mind this sudden closeness. He’s seen me in worse scenarios than this. Hell, he’s seen me in nothing but bed sheets, crying my way back to Singapore, bought me clothes and saved my ass on my first day in college. Zayn’s more like my biffle without him even knowing.

But looking at Zayn’s beautiful face this close to me just…

“You touched my phone, didn’t you?”

He knew. I’m so fucking screwed. I knew I shouldn’t have snooped in the first place.

I’m never good at lying. It’s just one of the endless flaws I have. I don’t understand why, but I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t lie to save myself.

In other words, I’m going to die.

I mean, not literally die as in I’d fall on the ground dead cold. I’m supposed to see a bright light in the end of the tunnel right? What sin am I even going confess when I reach heaven? That I have read fan fiction? Is that even a sin? Will I get thrown to hell because I read someone’s work that fantasizes about Zayn’s skill in foreplay?

I tried to bite on my lips so I wouldn’t throw myself out and have him hate me for what I’ve done. But Zayn was smirking back at me. Huh, that’s new (read: distracting). It didn’t look like he’s pissed but it definitely didn’t mean he was okay with what he has found me doing.

“Did you see anything that amused you?” he asked again. The smirk still hasn’t vanished from his pinkish lips.

Yeah. Fan fiction is the bomb. But finding out that you’re reading a fan story about you is the nuclear bomb that caused mass destruction. If it was smut, or even gay smut, I’m definitely jumping off London Bridge.

“Do you want to read the rest of it?”

Now I was the one staring in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

Zayn sat at the bed and took his phone, opening it and showing me the page. “It’s actually really good. I’m kind of hooked with it right now. How the writer constructed the plotline and all those twists she added into the story was what got me wanting to read the rest of it. Unfortunately the writer hasn’t finished the book yet.” he told me, scrolling back again to the rest of the page. I was just standing at the edge of the bed, staring at him with a mix of confusion and the slightest of amusement.

He was definitely serious. He wasn’t even embarrassed to admit that he reads these stuffs. Who would have thought that of all people who would be so amused to read a fans work about himself, it’ll be Zayn.

“It’s kind of sad. I think she’s sad about it too. She said she just lost inspiration, maybe because people don’t tell her that her work is good. I think she deserves to know. I really wanted to tell her. She needs inspiration.”

I found it amusing that Zayn was talking about someone like he knows them personally. But all he really did was read her work. It’s something that’s interesting about this boy.

“I didn’t know you like to read.”

Or that you read fan fiction.

I just kept that in thought. I really don’t want to embarrass him. But between the two of us, getting caught snooping in someone else’s phone is more embarrassing. Velvet Ferrol is the queen of embarrassment. It’s inevitable and justifiable.

“I do. I do a lot of reading on spare time. It helps me, actually.”

My head cocked on the side. Curiously, I asked, “Helps you on what?”

Zayn didn’t answer my question. I shouldn’t have asked that anyway. I realized I was being too forward. I’ve already invaded his privacy by opening his phone.

But I’m born curious, curious about a lot of things in the world. And in my world now comes someone like Zayn Malik. Really, who wouldn’t be curious to know things about this guy? With the pretty brown eyes and that brooding stare he always does, I bet there’s more to know. I’m willing to bet my last functioning brain cell for it.

“I don’t hear the boys downstairs. How did you get here then?” He asked me; never even for a second did he take his eyes off the story in his phone.

“Erm, actually Andrea told me to come here. I don’t really know why.”

Zayn nodded blankly and then continued on reading. I just stood there watching him get completely lost in the story in his phone. I guess it was my cue that my presence in the room wasn’t necessary anymore.

“Uhm…Maybe I should…I’ll just go.” I said, taking steps backwards.

But before I could turn my back around, I felt his hands wrap around my wrist and gently tugged me back to face him. “I wouldn’t mind some company,” Zayn said. “Actually, it would be amazing if you stay here for a little while, Velvet.”

Without even thinking twice, I sat on the edge of the bed next to him.

I’d be lying to myself if I say now that I didn’t feel anything. That I didn’t feel my stomach doing the twist and my heart beat nearing the state of collapse with just this single act of pulling and asking me to stay. I’d be a massive liar if I deny I really didn’t want to leave him, especially not now when Zayn sounds desperate for a company, maybe someone to talk to and tell his feelings about things like how the sex scene in the fan fiction he’s reading is too amateur or maybe even talk about that girl in his phone.

Then it hit me. I didn’t really know how come it was retained and remembered by my brain, but Andrea did mention before that Zayn’s ex-girlfriend was undesirable number one in the Directioners’ list of girls to assassinate.

Zayn’s cold touch against the skin in my wrist didn’t just bring my brain in haywire, it also made me remember that Zayn has someone he’s still hung-up to, or that there could be another girl involved with him and or that I could be unofficially (read: still questionably) involved with Liam now.

“So…how long have you been reading your fans’ fan fiction stories?” I tried to ask innocently. My whole body still cringed of the thought this boy is reading these kinds of stories, and that his hand is still wrapped in my wrist.

“How long will you remember if I tell you that secret?” Zayn smirked.

“So it’s a secret? Is it blackmail worthy?”

“That’s if you remember any of this.” His face now completely grinning that there were wrinkles in the side of his eye and oh god, he looks like a puppy. I love puppies. Actually, right now I’d die for a puppy to bring home with me. Maybe I could bring Zayn home with me? Ooh, the scandal.

I raised my brows inquisitively, “Are you mocking me, Mr. Malik?”

“Mr. Malik?”

Shoot.

“Oh good lord, I-Isn’t your last name Malik?”

“Yeah, it is. I’m just surprised you know it.”

“You…You told me before, silly. Back when we first met. Don’t you remember?”

“Oh, so now you’re mocking me and my memory, Ms. Ferrol.” I call him Mr. Malik so now he calls me Ms. Ferrol? Is this conversation turning into some Fifty Shades of Grey shit? What will be next; am I going to ask him what butt plugs are?

“I’m quite offended.”

I felt the blood drain my face. Why is he still holding my wrist? “Uhm, I didn’t mean it-,”

Zayn laughed, bumping his shoulders in mine. The lightest contact sending shivers down my spine. “I’m just kidding.” he said. “You haven’t even smiled at me. Am I boring you?”

“No! Not at all! I’m the boring one. You’re gonna have to find a better company.” I answered in defense, flailing my hands soon after he let go it.

Like, seriously, all I could comprehend at the moment is the butterflies bombarding my stomach. They usually don’t do me good. See how I act like a complete retard next to Zayn? He really should reconsider a new buddy other than yours truly because if he doesn’t, I’m afraid the next thing that’ll come out of my mouth would be unpleasant and horrifying.

(Read: It’s if he wants to re-enact the fanfic he’s reading.)

Zayn and I will most like appreciate it if I just don’t say a word.

I tried to laugh like a lunatic, the same reason why I haven’t smiled. I just look horrible. It’s what I always do when I’m on an awkward situation. I wasn’t prepared for any of this.

Out of nowhere, he mumbled something almost inaudible.

“Right now, you’re more than enough.”

He probably thinks I didn’t hear any of it.

But I did. I really did. Loud and clear.

“So…do you think I should comment?” Zayn has a lot of questions to me. Slow down, fancy pants. My brain cells process in .0005 speed rate.

“Huh?”

“On the story? Do you think I should go on and say things to her?”

“I think if you really wanted to inspire her, then you should. Nice words of encouragement help people. You’re the main topic of her story, right? Why not let her main character speak to her, like literally speak to her? I bet she’ll be so inspired she’d make more stories for you and her readers. Ain’t that just fun?”

Zayn bit on his lips again, losing eye contact with me as he nods his head down and scratched the back of his neck. I fought the urge to pinch his cheeks and scream at the cutest puppy next to me.

“I couldn’t remember my username, or my password on my goggle mail account. I always forget them.” he confessed.

“What a coincidence! You’re just as fucked up as me!” I fit.

And that’s when the real fit of chuckles came. I could die of this cuteness, why is Zayn Malik so cute?! They said nobody’s perfect. Well, clearly they haven’t met Zayn when they said that. Is he an alien?

“Maybe I should lend you my voice recorder.” I joked, nudging him lightly on his forearm. We are seriously fine with all this contact in just a matter of minutes.

“Shut up, Vel. Just help me with the comment.” Zayn said as he laughed with me.

And so Zayn and I spent a good fifteen minutes on constructing two paragraphs long review for his favorite writer. Right after we were fine and settled with what it says, he got his laptop and taught me about the fan fiction website, the go through, some recommended stories he claimed to have read and practically everything I needed to do.

In which comes the fun part: creating a new profile and choosing a username.

“You have anything in mind?” Zayn asked.

“Why are you asking me? It’s yours.”

“No, you’re the one signing up.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because it’s pointless if it’s me. I’ll just forget it. What if she responds? I’ll never know if I can’t remember how to log in.”

“You’re kind of forgetting one thing though –my memory is fifty times worse than yours. I’m a delicate peach.”

“Where in hell did you get the delicate peach part?”

I just grinned at him, the inner cleverness in me showing. “You are ridiculous with those nicknames.” Zayn chuckled. “You wouldn’t find it difficult to create a username now, would you?”

“Well it’s not going to be delicate peach.” I pointed out.

But after another round of fifteen minutes, I came up with nothing. Mostly because I’m starving, my intestines are eating themselves. I’m just so hungry I could eat Zayn.

Well, not like that (read: As much as thrilling as it would be, believe me).

“You’ve given Harry at least ten nicknames on the first week we’ve met, but you can’t think of something for yourself?”

“Because it’s a lot easier to make fun of Curly Fries.” I said, as a matter of fact. I am so freaking hungry.

“Why don’t you just use your own name?”

I scoffed. “Where’s the fun in that?” I have a bomb ass Tumblr name, why am I going to settle with my real name in a fan fiction site? That’s like social media suicide. No, really, I adore my name but I’d like to put some creativity on this, especially since I’m playing a messenger from a god also known as Zayn Malik.

“I like your name, Velvet. I think it’s very unique, just like you.” He told me back.

Play it cool, butterflies. If Zayn doesn’t stop talking I’m punching him in the lips-

With my own lips.

“Well if you don’t want to use your whole name, how about a good description before your name?”

Hmm… let’s see. How do you describe Velvet Ferrol?

Mentally unprepared for any of this.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked him.

“Do you have any favorite color?”

I frowned, almost asking him why color for an adjective, but instead I blurted out, “Blue. I love blue.”

Color coding does help me most of the time, and almost everything I own is colored blue. Blue toothbrushes, blue towels, blue bags, blue personalized iPhone case so I don’t grab on someone else’s (read: Hah. Pun.) and my blue vibrator.

Whoopsie.

“Did you know old people that suffer Alzheimer’s disease forget the blue color first?”

“Are you calling me old?”

“No… But from now on, I’m calling you ‘Blue Velvet’.”

What a clever little shit. I’d still punch him in the lips, still with my lips. God, the frustration in this is killing me.

So after creating Blue Velvet’s profile and sending the comment to Zayn’s favorite, I was burnt out of energy because I was still really hungry. Zayn doesn’t look like he’s even interested about anything other than they story on his phone. I was seriously considering leaving him alone because even though he asked to me to stay with him, I wasn’t going to die a premature death because of starvation.

Then my stomach growled. I think it echoed throughout the whole house. So loud I have never felt humiliated in my entire life since this epic fail moment.

Zayn’s looked back at me again, biting on his lips so he wouldn’t laugh. “How about we head downstairs and I make you a sandwich since you’ve helped me, yeah?”

“You don’t have food in your fridge.”

“That’d be Niall and Andrea’s fault. It’s their turn to do the grocery shopping.” Zayn said. “Do you want to go out with me so we could go grab some snacks?”

I did not just imagine that I heard Zayn said that. I seriously just-

Velvet Ferrol: Mentally unprepared for Zayn Malik.

“Maybe, Subway?” he asked, offering his hand.

I smiled with pure joy. He just knows the way to a girl’s heart. What moron would even resist on food and Zayn Malik?

He is definitely my newest favorite.

“Definitely Subway.” I giggled, holding him back.

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

After mine and Zayn’s quick Subway detour (read: wasn’t a date), in just half an hour, the loft has turned into a war zone.

The Korean lady was the first one to attack the Irish man. North Korean should hire Andrea Hann if they wanted to take over the world. She would have been better in the army anyway with this fierceness and angst in her stick thin figure.

“Oi! Look what I found!” Niall yelled from the living room, earning everyone’s attention at once. He was waving music sheets in his hands.

“You little fucker!” Andrea came running down and just leashed her small figure at him, trying to grab her music sheets back. “Who told you to go snoop at my stuff, huh?!” she groaned, flicking Niall’s nose in annoyance. But Niall didn’t look that pissed.

With their height difference, her entire front almost pressed against his chest and her tiptoeing so that she could even reach Niall’s hand, I swear I saw him lean a little towards Andrea when she was millimeters away from his face.

Someone wants a kiss.

“But I want to hear that new song. I bet the boys would want to hear it too, is that right lads?”

Harry, Liam and Louis nodded. Of course they all would want to hear if their co-writer has something new for their album. Zayn and I were still confused with all that’s happening.

But I noticed Andrea stood stoic, biting on her bottom lip. And for the first time, I saw Andrea contemplated on showing her talent. For nineteen years that I have known my cousin, she wouldn’t shy down if people ask anything about music. She’d shot up brightly and talk about what inspired her, who she’s wrote it for, everything and anything about music. Andrea Hann is that artist so it was very confusing for me when I witness her second thought about their request to sing that one music to her five superstar employers.

Before she could refuse any further, Niall was already giving her a guitar and was pushing her to sit at the couch next to Harry. All of us sat at the floor around her and waited patiently for her to play the piece.

I sat in between Niall and Zayn, stealing a quick glance at Liam who sat at the recliner chair beside the bigger couch where Andrea and Harry were sitting together.

Liam already has his eyes on me, again with that suggestive smile etched in the side of his lips. It’s not my fault if I wanted to pull him out of here and see what he’s trying to suggest in that head of his. Both heads, if you know what I mean.

“So what’s the title of the song?” Niall asked Andrea.

“Erm, just so you know, I wrote this song just this morning. If you think it sucks, you can tell me right away so I can punch Niall for making me do this.”

“You don’t suck, Andrea.” Harry told her. “You lick.”

It was Harry who got the punch instead.

“This song is called ‘Tee Shirt’. Now, shut up.”

Andrea began strumming the guitar with a nice and simple tune, but not even the melody could stop the staring battle Liam and I were up to.

“In the morning when you wake up
I like to believe you are thinking of me
And when the sun comes through your window
I like to believe you’ve been dreaming of me
Dreaming, mmm mmm,”

Then we heard Harry’s voice blend in with Andrea’s as she sang through the chorus.

“I know, cause I’ve spent half this morning
Thinking about the tee shirt you sleep in
I should know, cause I spent all day
Listening to the message I’m keeping
And never deleting.”

I slowly tore my gaze at Liam and looked at Andrea and Harry. It wasn’t hard to notice. I somehow understood why my cousin didn’t want these boys to hear this song.

The song was personal. It was written for someone special to her.

“Look at Niall,” beside me, Zayn whispered at my ear. His lips too near at the side of my face I felt the heat creep at my cheeks at that very instant. Apparently, Zayn and personal space doesn’t really matter now that we’ve gone for Subway snacks.

I didn’t want Liam to see that his best friend was making me blush so I distracted myself and looked at Niall beside me as Andrea again sang by herself.

“When I saw you everyone knew
I like the affect that you had on my eyes
But no one else heard the way of your words
Or felt the affect that they have on my mind
Falling, mmm mmm,”

Niall was looking directly at Andrea. I kind of always had his hunch that he’s got this crush on her, but now I know it’s not just some silly crush. If Andrea didn’t act like one of the boys 99% of the time or wasn’t always the meanie beanie, I bet my bottom dollar that Niall would have pursued her until she falls completely and indescribably in love with him too.

He was singing with her. I noticed how his lips moved slowly through the word of the song like he knows the lyrics by heart, like he’s written that song with her. There was something precious in the way he looks and smiles at her. His bright blue eyes giving her this loving and adoring stare like she’s the only girl in the world –the only girl he ever wants in his entire world.

It wasn’t a surprise though. Someone was bound to fall in love with the co-writer in the group. She’s massively talented. She’s born with the pretty genes from our Asian ancestors. She’s young. She’s fun. She’s one part angel one part devil. In total, she’s the ultimate package.

Kudos for Niall Horan for falling in love with a girl like Andrea Hann.

But he wasn’t the only guy in the room doing it.

“I know, cause I’ve spent half this morning
Thinking about the tee shirt you sleep in
I should know, cause I spent all day
Listening to the message I’m keeping
And never deleting.”

I don’t think neither Louis nor Liam does know. I bet not even Zayn noticed anything but I did. How he’s got that light in his eyes like she’s everything he’s been searching in his whole life. I’m a girl. Even if sometimes I could be a little insensitive, I still could tell. For someone who craved the attention of one particular guy in the group, I know one when he’s lost to notice anything else besides her. Niall totally was, but he was also completely and unfortunately oblivious of the fact that his best mate who sat beside Andrea was also smiling brightly at the same girl of his affection.

I could tell when someone’s in love.

Harry wasn’t even hiding the fact that he is.

I’m not sure if Andrea senses it too, or if she’s just focusing her eyes elsewhere so she wouldn’t lock stares with one of the lads because that will blow her cover.

Then it all made sense.

The song wasn’t written for One Direction to sing in their album. Andrea didn’t want to sing the song because she’s trying to keep a secret.

And that it could about one of these boys she’s singing to.

Notes

I would like to start my end notes with something fun or something to amuse you because you all know I always want to put smiles on your faces. The chapter is hardly satisfying for me to post. It’s roughly edited and some lines are just not thought through. I was actually supposed to work on this and update this weekend but I feel like this is the only way I could vent out. We’ve now come to that phase in our fangirl life where we’d rather don’t speak to anyone because I know people will judge us for being so emotional over a silly boy band and just really be alone because of the heartache of Zayn Malik leaving One Direction. I am speaking as your fellow Directioner but also as a writer who is current lost for words about this devastating news about Zayn. He is the inspiration of Blue Velvet and The Way We Are. I’m not really a Zayn girl but it’s him I feel the most comfortable writing stories about. I have always told my best friend that if I was friends with the boys in real life, I’d be best friends with Zayn because I feel like we’ve got the most in common. I don’t know what’s going to happen really but I feel like it’s pointless to go further on with these stories because One Direction isn’t One Direction without Zayn Malik.

I’d be honest to you that I have a difficulty finding time to write more because of my working schedules and with now comes this sad news, I really don’t know how to continue on. Maybe I do need my main character to speak to me, literally. But a bigger part of me wishes that I could speak to him instead, give him the tightest hug I could give and just tell him that it’s going to be okay and that the pain will go away. I’d tell him that he saved me in most ways possible and if I could, I’d save him too.

This is for those who inspired it but will never read it.

This is for you, Zayn Malik.

Love, Andie.

P.S. If anyone wants to talk, you can always come and have a chat with me on Twitter: @_AndieTiu. I would never judge you. I will cry with you.