Life Of a Direction-ette

Try being that girl that everyone is used to not being popular. That girl that doesn't win anything. Try. Try this: Try being that girl that ends up being famous. That girl that everyone wants to be like, but secretly hates. Also, try being all those girls and not knowing what to do about it.

Charlie didn't ask for fame. And yet, it consumed her.

Charlie was used to being an outsider. Y'know. That one girl that everyone knew but never talked to. She didn't even think that she would win the direction-ette contest. And she sure as hell didn't think she would fall for someone in one direction. When things get tough, she wants nothing more than to go home with her mom. Some things aren't so easy.


21. Chapter 21- a thank-you-for-the-thousand-views chapter 3/4

      I was walking up a road in Atlanta, Georgia and found myself at Atlantic Station. I hadn't been paying attention to the direction in which I walking since I was completely absorbed into my phone. I scrolled over some more and more tweets. Then I unintentionally tripped over the curb in front of Dillard's. No one knew I was out and about so I was sure everyone was looking for me.


"Hello Miss." A little girl said to me. I looked down at her, noticing she was alone in a very crowded area. I looked around to see if I could find her mom or dad, but nothing. Kneeling down beside her I asked,

"Where is you're mommy?" 


      She looked up at me with large, dark brown eyes, and told me, 


"In the store. She said she will be out soon and asked me to wait." 


"Do you need someone to wait with you?" I asked since there were a lot of people. She patted a spot next to which I gladly took. 

"Who do you hate?" She asked me after a while. I didn't get what she meant until she pointed at my shirt. It had "I hate you" in big white letters over the black hoodie. 


"No one really. I just like the shirt." I explained. She smiled before asking,


"Do you know who I hate?"




"My big brother. He always pushes me and tells me to get out of his room." She told me with a face of annoyance. 


"You don't hate him; you just don't like him right now It'll get better."


"I hope so." She breathed. 


      We talked about her for a minute before she asked me,

"Who are you? You look very familiar." 


      I hesitated before saying, "I'm Charlotte. Who are you?"


"I'm Hannah." She told me. She looked really happy to know my name for some reason.


      Her mom came out a few seconds later with her hands full of bags.


"Come on, Hannah. We have to get home so Daddy can see what I bought for us." She cooed as Hannah grabbed her hand. As they walked off, Hannah waved back at me. 


      I turned to leave when I hit something bigger than me. 


      I blinked for a moment before I realized it was Paul.

"Craaaaaaaaaaaap, Paul. You couldn't just let me be today?!?!?!" I whined. 


      When I got back to the boys, Zayn pulled me away and said that we should really just go hang out because he was stressed and he supposedly can see that I was stressed from the bags under my eyes. We walked back to the hotel together and we just watched tv.

      We laid there, his head in my lap and mine on a pillow, and we talked about all of the things that was bothering him. We talked about everything from the stress from tour to how he scrapped his knee.


"How'd you do that?" I questioned him. It was the most peaceful moment I had during that time. 


"Louis tripped me as we were walking up the stairs." He told me with a wide smile plastered on his face.  I just laughed at him. 

"Are you going to tell me what's been bugging you?" He asks me suddenly. It was a question that surprised me. At first I didn't know how to answer because if I answered the wrong way I looked weak, like an easy target. That wasn't what I wanted Zayn to see me as. 


"Nothing. I'm fine." I said to him. For a second I thought he believed me. He sat up and looked at me and for a while we both didn't say anything, but he was the first to break the silence.




"My mom's dead, Zayn." I blurt out with my eyebrows furrowed. I assumed it had to happen at sometime and I didn't want it to be a big problem.


"And you didn't think to tell me?" He asked. He actually looked hurt but at the time, I didn't register it as pain. 


"I didn't want anyone to worry about it." He told him simply. His eyebrows were knitted together as if he was concentrating. Then it seemed like something clicked since his eye widened and he nodded to himself. 


"Well if you want to talk about it, you know I'm here." 


"Nah, I'm good." I responded. He just looked at me and nodded slightly.


"Thank you, though." I said to him, trying to sound the tiniest sincere. He smiled my way and laid his head back in my lap. 


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