Roma

Roma is a photographer majoring in music artists. Her biggest dream has always been to make it in photography and become famous for it. So when a chance to achieve this pops up, she takes it. But will this job be all that it's cut out to be? Will one of the boys in this particular boy band do something life changing and completely unfair? Read to find out in Roma's tale of love, loss, dreams and heartbreak.

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5. Rocks

 GGGGUUUUUUURRRRRRRGGGLLLEEE

AARGH! I awoke to a weird and loud noise. Oh no, I had fallen asleep on Niall’s lap again! I flailed my arms around and fell to the ground, managing to wake up Zayn, Niall, Louis and Liam. I groggily rubbed my eyes and viewed the situation: the noise must have been Niall’s stomach seeing as he was ALWAYS hungry, Harry was slumped over in his armchair, asleep, and Zayn was holding his upper arm. Oops, I must have accidentally hit him. I was now lying across Liam and Louis’ legs which must have been super uncomfortable for them. I apologized to everyone before making my way to the bathroom, assuming they would show themselves out.

As I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a fluffy white towel, ready for the busy day ahead, I realized I had forgotten to bring my clothes in. Oh well, I thought to myself, the boys are gone so it doesn’t matter. I opened the door and stepped out into the living area of the hotel room. The boys were still there. They were ogling the fact that I was only in a towel. “What are you doing here!?” I shrieked, pulling the towel around myself tightly. “Uh…we…uh…erm…” stuttered Liam. Harry cut in promptly. “We...uh…we were wondering if you wanted to come down to breakfast.” Niall then jumped in and said “Yeah! There’s a really great buffet and everything!” I smiled. “Yeah I’ll come. Just lemme get dressed and stuff.” I said, walking into the bedroom without waiting for a reply. Phew, that was awkward.

I walked out fifteen minutes later in a strapless floral playsuit and black heels with my hair and makeup done for the day. The buffet turned out to be just as great as Niall said. I only had some chocolate crepes and a cappuccino whereas it seemed Niall took a serving of EVERYTHING on his plate.

After breakfast, we all piled into a limo which drove us to a secluded cove for a photo-shoot which I was taking. I waited on the sand playing with the adjustments on my camera while I waited for the boys to finish getting dressed. The morning went fairly smoothly, except when Liam got too close to the shore line and got splashed by a big wave. They were easy and fun to photograph. They messed around a bit and made me laugh a lot but they always did what I told them to and followed instructions for positioning very easily.

Eventually, a woman came and told us that we were done here and that we should go back to the hotel and relax for the first concert of the tour that night. We did as she said and I let the boys do their own thing as I headed out with my favourite camera. It was a Canon 550D and it was my first camera ever given to me for my sixteenth birthday from Maria.

I walked down the surprisingly quiet and empty street and a slight breeze ruffled my hair across my face. I proceeded into a really beautiful park filled with flowers and trees. There was a sweet little pond filled with water lilies and reeds. I lay down on the bank and focused my camera. After snapping a few shots, I stood up again, brushed myself off, and followed a random path, constantly on the lookout for something interesting. I winded up on the same little cove which I had been on earlier that morning. I wandered up the rocks, taking photos as I went.

Suddenly, a huge wave washed over me and I lost my footing, slipping and sliding closer and closer to the oceans deep and powerful swell. I cut my thigh and my upper arm on an oyster shell. I panicked. I was still being pulled into the sea. The sky had swiftly turned dark and cloudy, the temperature dropping slightly. I tried to stand up but I slipped again on some algae, falling and splitting my lip. I cried out in pain. One last wave pounded over me but I was abruptly pulled to me feet and dry rocks by solid arms. I looked up into the face of my rescuer and instantly recognized Italian heritage, just like me. “Need some help getting back?” he asked kindly. His skin was tanned and his eyes were stark against it in a deep cerulean blue. I nodded because it hurt to talk with my split lip. He helped me back to my hotel as I noted that the sun peeking out from the clouds again shone onto his dark brown hair, giving it and illusion that some strands were spun out of pure gold. “Thank you so much.” I said, wincing slightly in pain. “How can I thank you enough for saving me?” He handed me my camera which was unhurt except for a few scratches and said “Meet up with me sometime.” We swapped numbers and I learned that his name was Alex. “See ya round Roma.” He winked and waved. I waved back and headed inside. 

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