Hey Bad Boy, You're A Tad Overrated

Violet Bronze, Vod, is One Direction’s new stylist and she hates how full of himself Zayn Malik is. Yes, he has smoldering good looks and a moody, mysterious attitude, but Vod is not so easily impressed. Or so she thought. When Zayn begins to send her mixed signals, one minute he acts as if he wants her, the next he ignores her, she doesn’t know what to think or what to do. But there’s one thing she’s dying to tell him, ‘Hey bad boy, you’re a tad overrated!’


3. 3. Calling the Bluff

I found outfits for all the boys except for Zayn and when it was his turn, I cursed under my breath, already knowing how this would go. Zayn got up from the sofa as Harry sat down. Aaron was still here too and he looked pretty bored by now.

‘I know you probably won’t like this shirt but I think you’ll look good in it,’ I said, showing him a black shirt. Zayn grabbed it from my hand, saying nothing, and I was taken aback that he was actually cooperating for once.

When he put the shirt on, he joined his hands behind his back and told me, ‘Help me with this.’ He hadn’t buttoned it.

I played along and stood opposite him. We were only an inch apart. While I buttoned up the shirt, I was careful not to touch his skin. I wanted to though. He was looking at my face, studying it, but when I lifted my eyes up, he looked at Aaron and asked, ‘How did you meet Vod, mate?’

‘In kindergarten,’ Aaron replied. ‘She always wore a purple butterfly brooch and she lost it one day. I fancied her so I helped her find it,’ he ended, shrugging.

Aaron liked me when we were children and I liked him all the way through high school. In the end, we decided that everything would be less complicated between us if we were just friends.

I gave Zayn a pair of grey trousers and to my surprise again he slipped them on with no complains. He looked himself in the mirror and I stood behind him, hugging myself. ‘So, what do you think?’ I asked.

‘Perfect,’ Zayn replied, holding an intense eye contact with me through the mirror. I blushed, turning round to the other boys.

‘I guess we’re done for the day,’ I told them, picking up clothes from the floor. Every time the boys tried something on and then took it off, they threw it wherever.

‘Aaron, mate, are you up for a drink?’ Zayn asked. ‘We’ll all head to a club tonight.’

I shot a warning look at Aaron but he ignored it and replied, ‘Sure. Why not?’

Zayn changed into his own clothes and threw the shirt and trousers at my feet.

‘I’m not your maid,’ I told him irritably.

Zayn winked at me before he leaned closer and whispered, ‘Wear something hot for me tonight.’ I wanted to come up with a clever comeback but I was out of words. Then, he walked over to the others. Ironically enough, Aaron was getting along really well with them. I noticed Zayn telling Aaron something but I couldn’t hear what it was.

‘Let’s meet in a couple of hours, yeah?’ Zayn said and the five boys left.

‘Zayn’s a cool guy,’ Aaron said, annoying me. ‘I don’t get why you don’t like him.’

I shook my head and said nothing. Boys could be so clueless sometimes.


When there was a knock on my studio flat’s door, I shouted, ‘I’ll be right there!’

We had agreed with Aaron that he would pick me up at around 11 and it was a quarter to now. I added a few last touches to my makeup and hurried to open. I had on a lace black top, skinny jeans and black high heels.

‘You’re early,’ I said, opening, but I froze when I saw Zayn standing at the doorway and not Aaron. ‘What are you doing here?’ I demanded. ‘How do you know where I live?’

‘I asked Aaron and he told me,’ Zayn replied, shrugging.

‘Aaron wouldn’t do that!’ And if he did, I’ll kill him, I thought.

‘He did, doll,’ Zayn said, adding, ‘I called your bluff.’

‘First of all, never call me doll again,’ I ordered.

‘And second of all?’ he asked, grinning.

‘And second of all, you called my bluff? What’s that supposed to mean?’ I asked, folding my arms. I knew Zayn had probably figured out by now that Aaron wasn’t my boyfriend but I wanted to tease him a little longer.

Zayn didn’t reply, only smiled. He looked amused that I was resisting him. ‘Go grab your coat, Vod. We’re going clubbing.’

‘I’m not going anywhere with you,’ I said stubbornly but when I tried to walk away, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me against him. He put his hands low on my back so I couldn’t escape.

‘Why are you fighting this?’ Zayn asked, complaining a little. ‘We had this going from the beginning.’

‘You’re bad news, Zayn, that’s why,’ I told him with my hands on his chest, struggling.

‘You don’t know me,’ he groaned.

‘I know boys like you and sadly you’re all the same.’

He abruptly set me free. ‘If you want to be bitter and shallow, be my guest,’ Zayn said, indifferently now, and turned his back to me. He put his hands in his black leather jacket’s pockets and was ready to go.

‘I’m not bitter or shallow,’ I shouted at him.

‘Whatever, doll. I don’t care,’ he said, walking away.

I pressed my lips, grabbed my coat and ran after him. When I caught up to him, he chuckled, looked down and shook his head. I guess we were going clubbing after all.

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