Mute || A Zayn Malik Fanfiction

Sam is a tomboy. A not girly girl. She loves rock and only has boys as friends. Really, her life sucks. But that's all going to change when she's offered a new job.

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8. Chapter O8||

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. -H. Jackson Brown Jr.

Chapter eight||

So that's all that happened so far. I hope I'll see you soon again. I won't... but I will. That sounded odd. But you know what I mean. Miss you lots.

Sam

 

I clicked the 'send' button and after a few seconds 'Your mail has been sent' pops up on my screen. I sighed and lay down on my bed, my laptop on my stomach. I softly began to sing one of my own songs. "Lalalalalada, why would you do that to me, lalalalalada, why would you do that to me."

Veronica was talking to Victor in his own tourbus, who was just came back on a short trip to Simon Cowell in the UK. I wanted to go back with him, but he wouldn't let me. He was afraid I wouldn't want to go back. Good point though.

I missed the boys like crazy. I don't regret my choice, moving here, but it's kinda boring if you do something one hour a day and don't have anyone to do things with the other 10 hours I'm awake. I sleep a lot okay? Touring is exhausting, and band boys I share the bus with don't have a PlayStation3 or Xbox360 like the bus of One Direction has.

I still haven't met them, thank god. It's been so long. I wonder what they'll be like, though. Probably snobs. But anything better then these boys. They only make a lot of noise. Sleeping. They should get an award for that. They're worse then me. I'm surprised Veronica hasn't quit her job yet. I mean, yeah I'm awesome to work with, but Rachel lives with PJ for Christ's sake! I'm sure Eric got himself a good job to earn the money they need and secretly I'm donating to the Rachel charity every week. Not for Rachel, or Veronica though. For me. So I don't have to sing myself.

*INSERT INCOMING MAIL SOUND, SOMETHING LIKE PLING*

"You've got mail."

No shit, Sherlock.

To: Sam The Greatest 

From: Victor (Mr. Big Boss)

Hello Sam,

I have some news I need to tell you. And because you're quite violent, I'll tell you over mail, pure self defense. I know you won't like this news so be prepared. The other person who is involved in this will receive a mail like this. We need you both to agree.

Veronica has heard you playing and singing your own songs two days ago. She secretly recorded it and sent it to me.

"That little piece of bitch..." I muttered.

I want you to play your own songs at the concerts. They are really good, Sam.

"Interesting, why is there another person involved?" I started talking to myself.

As soon as you will play your own songs, you'll get your own fans who are fan of your music. You'll get more popular and maybe even famous. And -I'm sorry to say this- we want to protect you from creating a bad image.

"What the actual -!" I shouted, retaining myself from swearing. Even if I got my own fans, they should think I'm cool for who I am. I don't need protection!

We want you to date Zayn Malik.

 

 

Well fuck.

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