I'm your average girl, moody teenager, everyone knows me. Except they think I'm a murderer. It's not true, of course, but does that matter? Not to them; they hate me, but I survive. But it isn't until a certain band member- with the name of Niall James Horan- comes to town that my world really spins. What will happen to me? That's for me to know, and me to tell. See you around.


8. Drama in Paradise

I awoke in a plush, white feather bed, and I couldn't even believe how soft it was. I guess sleeping in it all night didn't take away how new it was. I smiled as I exhaled deeply, pushing myself up into a sitting position and looking around. This hotel room was amazing, from the fancy chandelier in the living room, to the fantastic view from the gigantic window. I haven't felt so fancy in a very long time. I looked down at my pajamas before I walked out into the living room that a joined with the boys' room. I was wearing zebra sweats that hung against my legs, and a black tank top. I ran to my bag and put a bra on, and then went into the kitchen next to the living room. Considering we had bought no food yesterday, I had to order room service- on the Nialls card, of course. As I hung up the phone, after asking for a load of bacon, eggs, and pancakes I knocked on the boys' door to wake them up.

"Aye, get up, get up! I ordered room service!" I yelled. Next, I grabbed a water bottle and sat in front of the television, taking a swig of water. Soon, I heard a knock on the door. 'That was fast' I thought to myself, but shrugged as I went to the door.

"Hey, I was wondering if you've seen my-" He had been looking at his phone, and as he looked up I couldn't have been more shocked. That all too familiar smirk plastered itself on his face as he put his phone in his back pocket. His eyes darkened- like they always did, once upon a time- and shivers ran down my spine. He was the one person that actually got through to me. Yes, it's my ex- Dylan. He moved shortly after the accident, thankfully, because of his standings with the police. He had said that he saw me murder that man that horrific night, but he had been knocked out cold, the way they found him, and he spent the night in a cell for lying in a murder case. More so a scared- straight project, but it worked none the less.

"Long time no see, babe. How you been?" He started to push the door open further, but I slapped his hand off and tried to slam the door but his foot stopped it.

"Knock it off, babe, I know you still love me, let me in and we can chat, like old times." That sentence only made me push harder on the door. He and I both knew what his version of 'chatting' was.

"Go away!" I said. He was over powering me, I was so weak compared to him. I couldn't hold it closed much longer, and I wouldn't let him closer to me, not again. So, I screamed.

"Niall! Help!" I shrieked again. I heard a thump in the other room, and the boys ran in, searching the room with their eyes. They landed on me, fast, and they ran over, yet confusion was plastered on their faces. They pushed Dylan out and slammed the door, as I flipped the locks.

"Who the hell was that?" Liam asked. I was heaving big breaths in and out, stress was not good on me.

"Just my ex," My eyes were wide as I walked back towards my room.

"It's obviously something bigger than that if you were trying that hard and looked that scared while he was there," Louis was calmed down, and he looked at me with the worst look in the world. Caring and pity; I don't need that.

"Look, even if I wanted to tell you, I wouldn't. You'll just look at me with more pity," I walked into my room, and almost shut the door when I heard Zayn ask:

"Why is that so horrible?" I turned around and looked straight at them with a death glare.

"Pity means you're weak. That you need protecting. I am not weak." I said, harshly.

"It wouldn't mean you are," Harry said.

"Oh, but it would," I replied calmly. I shut the door and walked into a corner. I just sat there in silence, lost in my mindless day dreams. I heard knocking on the door, probably Niall since he'd been silent the whole time out there. He looked at me with pity too. So, I had to let it out, and I screamed, slamming my fist on the ground. I would've cried, as well- but then he would win. Then I'd be the cowering little girl I once was. He will never, ever win again- I can guarantee that.

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