One Way or Another

Jenkins Ocean is nothing but a trouble maker after her parent's death. She's at an orphanage since she's not 18 yet. Her dad's all-time best friend since high school -Simon- decides that he's interfering.

Taken in by Simon Cowell, she meets what seemed at first the pain in the ass called One Direction. They all seemed nice to her, everyone but bad boy Zayn, though Zayn's not really fond of her either.


15. Gondola ride and nickname incident


Brain washer and I opened the door to the room. This had to be some sort of joke. It was a bloody honeymoon suite.

I walked in and was hypnotized by the bed. "I call dibs on the bed!" I said as I ran and jumped on it. Man, it was so soft! It was not something a gentleman would do, but I was really tired! Brain washer travels like a queen and her bags are heavy. Carrying them all around along with mine got me tired.

I was closing my eyes, when I felt something heavy fall on my back. I groaned and got it off me. "Your stuff." She said. I opened my eyes and saw her standing in front of me.

"What is your problem, woman?"

"Well, maybe before you jumped on the bed you should've thought about bringing your bags inside. You dumped them outside." She said as she was grabbing some pillows and covers.

"So you threw my bags on top of me?" I said, sitting up.

"They were on my way." She answered as she walked into the bathroom with all the covers and pillows.

"What are you doing on the bathroom?"

"I'm a person, Zayn. I sometimes a day go to the bathroom."

I glared at the bathroom door. "Oh, you're a person? Breaking news! We must tell everybody!"



I was making a sort of bed on the tub. Obviously, it hadn't been my plan since I wasn’t even planning on coming. I liked Venice, but being with Bad boy ruins my experience.

“Fuck you, dumbo!” I said when I finished with the bed and walked into the room, glaring at him, who was glaring at me. I turned around and grabbed the soap from the sink, and then I threw it at Zayn, hitting him in the face. Zayn complained with an ‘Ow!’ “Did it hurt?”

“No, I complain for fun. I love you throwing things at me, by the way!” Zayn spat sarcastically.

“Good to know.” I said.

Liam called and we all went for a walk around Venice. He said we had to go for a gondola ride, meaning Bad boy and me –AKA the happy couple.

We hopped in and sat together. I was disgusted by his closeness. I wanted my space! The gondolier started singing and we just looked at each other with annoyance when there weren’t fans taking pictures, because when they were, we held hands and smiled and all that shit.

We stepped out of the gondola, fans gathered around us. Bad boy and I held hands. They started cheering and asking for a kiss. Gross! I was not kissing him! Then, a maniac fan came running towards us and pushed Bad boy into the water. He screamed to the top of his lungs. Oh, man! I loved that girl! I high fived her, but she was shocked. I couldn’t stop laughing my ass off.



Fans gathered around us after our gondola trip. We were playing to be the happy couple we were supposed to, when a fan came running towards us and threw me into the water. It was really bloody cold! What the bloody hell was wrong with her?

Oh, God! My hair! It was ruined! I got out of the water and Brain washer wouldn’t stop laughing and asking “Are you okay, babe?” That dumbo!

“We have to go, honey.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, babe. You look good.” She lied. Yeah, right. I looked fantastic all wet and filthy to the bone.

She walked next to me and I suddenly stopped when I grabbed her hand, making her stop too. “Alright, here are the rules: one, never make fun of me. Two, don’t push it. Three, don’t ever call me ‘babe’. And four, don’t mess with the hair.”

“Alright then, what should I call you? Sexy? Sexiness? Adonis? Hot stuff? Hot tamale? Papi? Animal cracker? Grumpy? Sweet potato? Ninja in training? Yummy lover? Don Juan?”

“Just call me Zayn.”

“Why, my bad boy?”

“Stop it, brain washer!”

“Oh, but mookie-pooky bear, that’s not loving at all.”

“I don’t love you.”

“Neither do I, but cutie patootie, we’re in this together.”

“Alright, call me fruit loop. I’ll call you cupcake.”

“Seriously? Fruit loop?”


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