Ericka's Opus: The Journey of Discovering Myself

Ericka Madison Horan. The 15 year old daughter of Niall Horan and Olivia Horan (former Carsons/Clifton). Only child, plays soccer like her mom and writes music like her dad. When she was about 8, she's been working on composing one of the greatest opus of all time, and hasn't stopped since. Most would say that's something a prodigy would do, but it's her past time. But when something from the past comes up that could change her life, Ericka realizes that life is not just about the music, it's about the journey. (Third installment of Start of Something New trilogy)

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15. the city of Bradford

"You want to go where?" Jarret asks the next morning as we are about to take a bus down to London to check out the suburban hospitals.

"Bradford. Your mom told me an old friend of both of our dads live there. What if we can talk to him?" I state. "Maybe he knows more about me!"

Jarret stops and turns around. "Look, Ericka, I know you want to explore new places. But Im sure if this situation was involving me, then I would want to stay on task. Besides, I know the old friend is Zayn. I did research and I'm pretty sure he probably won't want much with us because of who our parents are."

I tilt my head. "Why?"

He sighs. "When Zayn left the band, things got chaotic. I remember my mum saying she was out of the spotlight a lot to take care of me after I was born because I was born September 19, 2014. Zayn quit March 25, 2015. So I was only six months old and you weren't even born yet. I don't remember the rest. But if you want to go to Bradford, I'll come with."

I look at him in shock. He'd take me to Bradford to find Zayn.

"You're lucky our bus stops at the train station today." He teases me and chuckles. I chuckle some too.

I'm so glad to have a friend like Jarret.

The bus arrives, we pay the toll, and take a seat. After about an hour of riding, we reach the train station. Jarret and I buy two tickets to Bradford (I think the man at the ticket window thought it was weird that we were having a ticket for one day. Like I'm not staying at my dad's old friend's house who doesn't know me!).

When we get on the train, I sit down next to Jarret and rest my head on his shoulder and sleep. Bradford was a few hours away so I felt like it was a good time to catch up on some needed sleep.

As I slept, I began to think of what Zayn might say when he sees us. He might welcome us with open arms, or he might kick us out. No one knows what will happen but something will. But what will we do after that? Do we stay in Bradford? Do we travel back home after we just got off a train? Do we try to find another one of a close friend of One Direction and try to get them to let us stay for a night.

I wake up and check the time. It's only been fifteen minutes. Oh god, this is going to be a long ride.

"We just left the station." Jarret says as he notices that I'm up.

I let out a loud yawn and sit up pulling out my headphones and listening to music. I ended up drifting back to sleep again. This time, I wake up to Jarret nudging me. "Ericka. Er, we're in Bradford." He says softly as I open my eyes.

I stand up and walk off the train and out of the station behind Jarret. Looking around Bradford, it looked very simple. Like back at home. Jarret pulls out a folded piece of paper and opens it. Written on it was what looked like a woman's handwriting.

"My mum wrote down an address of a house Zayn owns. It's his house that apparently a long time ago he bought to do spray painting and such. So we're going to catch a cab there." He begins to try signaling a cab. But it doesn't work.

"Hold on." I say before raising my arm up for a cab.

One stopped in front of us. Jarret gave me the middle finger as we stepped in.

I told the cab driver where to go and we were there in no time. We got out of the cab and walked down the street until we stopped in front of a house.

I take a deep breath. This was the house of Zayn Malik.

I walk up to the door and knock. I thought I did hear a dog bark, and then I thought I heard footsteps.

I was right.

The door opens and there's a woman there. "May I help you?" She asks.

I clear my throat. "Hi...we're looking for Zayn Malik. Does he live here?" I ask sounding like a squeaking mouse on crack.

The lady turns around and yells in the house. A few minutes later, a man appeared at the front door. I think this was Zayn.

"May I help you kids?" He asks with a bit of a smile.

"Yes. Hi, I'm Ericka and this is my friend Jarret. Can we ask you a few questions?" He still has his smile. We're doing good.

"Sure thing. What's it about?"

"My father."

"Why are you asking me about your father, kid?"

"You don't understand, Mr. Malik. My last name is Horan. I'm Ericka Horan, child of Olivia and Niall. Or...so I think Niall."

He was then silent. His eyes widens.

"You two come in." He opens the door wide and let's us in. "Gigi, get these two something to eat. They probably had a long trip out here."

"Oh, we're in England for summer holiday." Jarret says.

"And you're Jarret..."

"Styles."

"Oh god this is crazy. Okay so Horan, you're here because you're in the conflict of who's your father. Right?" I nod. "Alright." He sits down, rubbing his hands together. "I know of the story, but I don't know all of the story."

Oh shit.

"What part of the story of who's my father don't you know?" I ask curious.

"The part of who the father is." He answers. Damn it. "But I know one thing."

"What? Mr. Malik what is it?"

"Okay first you can call me Zayn. Second, the hospital is in Doncaster." He answers.

Doncaster.

"Uh, where's Doncaster?" I ask.

"Southern Yorkshire. We're in Western Yorkshire so we're in the same county at least." Jarret says.

"How did you know?" Zayn asks.

"One of my old school here in England's rival was a school from Doncaster. But I have friends there too." He answered.

"Makes sense." Zayn nods.

"Which hospital?" I ask as my curiosity grows.

"I can't remember."

Well, that's just great.

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