♫ Life's Melody {1D Edition} ♫

Melody May Millington is a music geek. She's not drop dead gorgeous (at least she doesn't think so), not a member of the cheer squad (she's way too uncoordinated), and never won Prom Queen (not that she went to Prom-- she didn't get invited). She has a past that no one knows. She's always in the background, and doesn't mind it, at all.
Until she meets the wonder that is One Direction.
Will love blossom, or is it all about the music for Melody?
And what about when a jealous best friend enters the picture?
Friendships will be strained, relationships will be tested, and the truth will be revealed.
Read about it all in "Life's Melody {1D Edition}".


2. ♪ Meeting the Boys ♪

“Melody, Cody is here,” Brandon vociferates from downstairs. I ignore his calls and roll over in bed, pulling the duvet tighter around my figure simultaneously. I burrow my head underneath my pillow as my bedroom door flies open and the curtains are draped back, exposing me to the harsh sunlight.

“Mel, it’s time to wake up,” Cody whispers softly into my ear.

“Mmph,” is my intelligent (and slightly stifled) reply.

“Melody, don’t make me do this,” he threatens, edging towards the bathroom, I presume.

“Mmhmm... HOLY CRAP! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU,” I bellow at my blue-eyed, blond-haired, best friend, who has decided to throw a bucket of freezing water on me this (used to be) fine morning. He breaks his chortles to stare at me fearfully, as he rightfully should.

“You wouldn’t wake up,” he protests meekly, arms raised up, palms facing outward— the universal sign of surrender— and withdrawing slowly.

“You better retreat,” I growl, advancing towards him. He cowers in fear every time I glare menacingly at him, causing me to almost reveal my act. Almost. I corner him and lunge, but not in the way that he’s expecting; instead of attacking him with flying kicks and other awesome ninja moves, I envelope him in a hug (since I would probably fail at the ninja moves and end up spraining something, however, we’ll exclude that little precious factor) and peck him on the cheek. He stares at me bewilderingly as I burst into giggles, jumping off him. “HA; I got you! I… can’t… believe… you thought… I… would… hurt you,” I say in between my laughter, grasping my abdomen.

Blinking he shakes his head at me; “You are demented,” he states, joining in my insane chuckles.

I curtsy and blow him a kiss, “Why thank you for such a lovely compliment.”

We glance at each other in amusement a couple seconds longer before Cody suddenly jumps up. "Stop distracting me! I came here for a purpose," he scolds, while 'glaring' at me.

"And what would that be?" I ask innocently, widening my eyes in fake confusion.

"To get your lazy ass up and to school," he replies, seemingly bored.

"Pssh, what makes you think I need you to keep me on schedule? I was going to get up soon anyways," I scoff; defending myself, although we all know what I'm saying isn't truthful. He rolls his eyes and heads toward the door.

"I'll be downstairs eating cereal. Meet me down there after you're dressed," he commands, sauntering out of the room.

"YOU HAVEN'T WON THIS," I yell at his retreating figure, but to no avail. He's already around the corner, leaving me alone with his echoing laughter from downstairs. I decide to stop procrastinating and jump into the shower, washing my hair with my favorite mango shampoo. My hair itself is a wavy/curled mess of dull brown, quite unattractive if you ask me, but it sure smells amazing, considering how often I wash it. Let's just say that I'm very friendly with my personal hygiene. I'm not some kind of germaphobe or anything, it's that greasy hair really disgusts me, hence why I always lather mine in my special citrus blend, and then proceed to tie it up in a quick ponytail after stepping out of the shower. I rush out of the bathroom in my panties, sliding on the hardwood floors to my closet. I pull on an over large, blue, Lakeview Soccer sweatshirt (courtesy of Cody) and baggy jeans, slipping on a pair of Sperry's as I go. I quickly (yet thoroughly) brush my teeth and slide my glasses on my face, running out the door and sprinting down the steps to meet Cody. 'What about your makeup?' you ask. Simple. I don't bother wearing makeup. It's too much work for someone like me to handle in the morning. Therefore, all I have to bother with is chapstick, which is essential anyhow.

"Good morning," my brother chirps from his spot by the coffee machine in the kitchen. I mumble back a reply and take a bite out of the piece of toast he offers to me, eagerly accepting the glass of chocolate milk he places in front of me. "Thank you," I mumble with a mouth full of buttered toast, which is one of the few things my brother can make.

"We need to get going soon," Cody reminds me, and then takes in my appearance. "Is that my sweatshirt?"

"Maybe..." I wink, placing my empty plate in the sink. Cody laughs and shakes his head at me, mumbling lowly. I decide to ignore his ramblings and jump on him, enveloping him in a bear hug.

"Oh, your music teacher called and said to dress up today," my brother reminds me.

"Mr. Caballero said that? Why?" I scowl, hating the thought.

He shrugs his shoulders and takes a sip of his coffee, "Don't shoot the messenger."

"Besides, it’s not winter anymore, dude. It's too hot for sweatshirts," Cody mumbles in between stuffing his mouth and laughing at me.

"Well then why don't you go pick something better out, Mr. Fashion," I reply, sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

"Fine," he scoffs, dumping his empty bowl into the sink and running up the stairs to my bedroom.

I frown, but run after him, finding him staring into my closet. "What are you doing?" I sigh, leaning against the edge of my bed while he mutters to himself.

"Dressing you up, duh," he says, throwing a shirt at my face.

"Where did you get this?" I ask, wrinkling my nose at the teal lace shirt. "It's see-through," I remind him, not willing to expose myself like that.

"That's why you wear a tank top underneath," Cody informs me, shaking his head at my stupidity.

"Whatever," I mutter, stripping out of Cody's sweatshirt and rummaging through my drawers for a white camisole. I finally find one just as a pair of floral shorts hit my face.

"No, no, no, these are way too short," I protest, throwing the booty shorts back at him.

"No they're not," he insists, flinging them back at me.

"Would you stop it with the clothes throwing?" I yell, reluctantly pulling the shorts on and shivering as the cool air-conditioned air hits my bare legs.

"Don't worry, we're almost done," he promises me, handing me a pair of light green Vans.

"These I can approve of," I say, smiling as I tie them onto my feet. Cody pulls me up and leads me to my mirror, studying me.

"See! I knew you had a figure!" he exclaims jokingly, earning a slap in the chest.

"Shut up and drive me to school, you loser," I yell while running outside, speeding down the driveway and through the lawn, to Cody's house next door. I jump into his car, which he unlocked, and buckle myself in. Cody joins me moments later, instantly reaching forward to turn on the radio. I start singing along to random songs with Cody as my backup. Once we arrive at the school, Cody is staring at me in disbelief. ...Did I have something on my face?

"You are incredibly talented, Melody. A musical genius," he states incredulously.

"I know, and you aren't. We discovered this a long time ago, Mr. Big-Shot Pretty-Boy," I tease, referring to his tone death ways.

"Gee, thanks for being so nice," he says sarcastically while smiling, exposing his dimples. I let out a laugh as I step out of his car, winking at him with a grin stretched across my face.

"That's what best friends are for, right?"

Unfortunately, my playful mood dies almost instantly. Once everyone sees Cody’s car pull up, they swarm around him like groupies, excluding me, per usual. I mean, Cody is tall, blond, and has beautiful bright blue eyes. Add the fact he's the soccer captain and has an impressive build; of course he'd be popular. Me on the other hand, not so much. I don't have the looks or the confidence to succeed with this crowd, even with my new outfit.

“You sure you don’t want to join, Mel?” Cody offers, pleading me with his eyes to say yes, like he does every day. I shake my head and look down at the ground, very unsettled with all the new found attention placed on me.

“Fine. Will I see you at lunch?”

I cringe, looking away from all the hateful glares now thrown my way.

“Sorry, but I can’t… I have practice,” I mumble, walking away quickly.

I hear him sigh, but he doesn’t press the matter any further, most likely because I’m already halfway across the campus lawn. No one pays attention to me as I go throughout my classes; it’s as if I’m invisible. Cody will send me a meaningful glance in the hallway, but he’s always surrounded, so I just smile weakly in response and carry on. The rest of the day goes on in a similar fashion, my boring social life always the same; consistently nonexistent. I drift from one class to the next, eagerly awaiting the end of the day, where I can finally reach my only solace.


I hurry to the music room and slide onto the all familiar piano bench, my fingers resting on the keys lightly. I look around and notice that Mr. Caballero has yet to arrive. You see, every day after school while Cody is at soccer practice, I hide out in the music room with Mr. Caballero, the only person who understands my love for music.

I take a deep breath, and launch into movement 3 Beethoven's 23 piano sonata, "Appassionata" in F minor, opus 57, my eyes closed, fingers flying across the keys, though not as smoothly as when she was here. I hear Mr. Caballero's voice, which startles me, thus ending in me messing up and sighing in frustration, before quickly changing to Moonlight Sonata. His familiar, kind, face pops through the doorway.

“What were you playing earlier?”

“What do you mean? I was just practicing a bit of Beethoven,” I say, feigning innocence.

He raises an eyebrow at me questioningly, “Are you sure?”

“Yup, I’m sure. What do you have planned for today?”

“Actually, I need to talk to you about something.”

“Umm… alright. W-what about?” I stutter, nervously.

“There are auditions—”

“No.” I cut him off harshly. I do not like to play in front of others, let alone audition, and he knows that. What if I messed up?

“Melody, let me finish. I know you’re shy, but this is a massive opportunity; the band is dominating the pop industry at the moment, imagine how this could boost your career! As your music supervisor, I can’t let you pass this up,” he replies, sternly.

“I don’t care, I’m not auditioning and that’s that. Besides, pop bands aren’t really my style; I’m classically trained!”

"I had a feeling you were going to say that," he mutters.

"Can we just begin practice?" I beg, longing the feel of the keys beneath my fingertips.

"Of course. I have a new piece I would like for you to try out first."

I skim the sheet music he hands me and frown.

"I Want? What kind of song is that? This is beginner level," I whine, wrinkling my nose in disgust. I'm more of a concerto or sonata girl myself, not... this.

"Trust me on this one," he says knowingly, a small smirk on his face.

"Fine," I agree, getting settled on the piano bench.

"This doesn't sound right," I announce, once I've played the piece through. "It's missing something... This isn't an instrumental song is it?"

He shakes his head at me and smiles.

"I was hoping you'd say something like that." he motions at the door, and three boys walk in; one with light brown hair and a simple haircut, one blond, and one with a head full of unruly brown curls.

"That was really good," the first one praises. I detect a British accent and mentally swoon; I'm a sucker for British accents. On the outside however, I blush and look away, counting on my hair to cover my face, until I realize it's up today, causing me to blush harder. I've never been noticed by such good-looking people before, or anyone, really.

"How about you try that again, except with some vocals?" Mr. Caballero suggests, gesturing to the three males before me.

I nod and stare intensely at the keys, waiting for my cue to begin, but not daring to look at the lads before me.

"What about Zayn and Louis?" The guy with the curly mess asks.

Just then two guys burst in and land on the ground with an extremely audible ‘thump’, chuckling like maniacs. They're both brunettes, except one of the boys has a much darker, intense, color while the other has a lighter brown side-swept fringe thing going on.

"Zayn! Louis! There you are! Where have you been?" the blond finally speaks, but his accent is Irish, not British, making me die just a little bit more inside. What can I say? I have a thing for foreigners.

I clear my throat, beginning to get annoyed by the interruptions. "Are you going to let me practice or...?"

Mr. Caballero nods, so I begin with the opening chord.

The guys start singing, and if I'm truthful, they aren't bad, at all.

"Marvelous, your chemistry is exemplary," Mr. Caballero beams, smiling triumphantly.

"Great, so we'll see you tomorrow morning to straighten everything out with Paul?"

"Who's Paul?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"Our tour manager," The blond guy says.

"Tour manager?"

"Um, yeah. We're One Direction.”

"Who?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"You seriously don't know who we are?! Have you been living under a rock?" The curly haired guy cries out in disbelief, earning a smack in the head from his band-mates.

"In that case, I'm Niall Horan," the blond, Niall, says, grinning at me like there's no tomorrow. I smile warmly at him and lift my hand up in a short wave.

"I'm Liam, and those two idiots over there are Zayn and Louis," Liam introduces, smiling politely at me.

"We're not idiots!" They chorus, rather loudly.

"Louis, inside voice," Liam reprimands him when I wince at his loudness.

"Right... sorry.”

"Harry, introduce yourself," Liam pushes, glaring at the remaining boy, who still looks confused, and a little upset.

"Err... yeah, I'm umm... Harry... Harry Styles," he says slowly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, before looking away and frowning at the wall.


"I-I'm Melody," I mumble shyly, staring down at the piano.

"Lovely name for a lovely lady," Louis says, winking at me. I crack a small smile and giggle slightly. No one's ever complimented me before, excluding my brother and Cody, obviously.

Suddenly a man bursts through the door, scanning every inch of the room. His eyes finally land on me. I immediately look away; I don't do so well with eye to eye contact.

"Is she the one?"

Various agreements chorus throughout the boys.

"Great, because we've got to leave. Now. Our location has been disclosed, meaning you can be mobbed at any second," the man says, ushering the boys out of the room.

Liam grabs my hand and drags me along as they run through the corridors, like they do this every day. The screams hit my ears at once, causing me to freeze. This is freaking chaotic. Girls are jumping, shrieking, crying, you name it. They are hysterical, all over these five boys surrounding me, and I don’t get it one bit.

"Melody, come on," Liam pleads, trying to pull me along, but I can't keep up with them. I'm not exactly runner material here.

"I can't," I whine, tired and panting.

Liam sighs and bends down to pick me up, cradling me to his chest as if I weigh nothing. I shut my eyes tight, burrow my head deeper against the soft fabric of his t-shirt, and cover my hands with my ears, trying to stop the pounding. I feel him shift underneath me and the screaming is muffled. I cautiously open my eyes and realize I'm now sitting in a van, with the five disheveled boys surrounding me.

"What is going on?!"

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