Too Much

They were so smothered in love they didn't have a chance to come up for air.

Trinity was an aspiring artist, quickly making her way up the ladder of fame. Maybe not in the way she expected--as she meets the world-famous Zayn Malik of One Direction, her journey of love and stardom is set along a path of joy and ambition. But she needs to know that not everything is like it is in the books and movies; there WILL be heartbreak and nothing is ever easy.


1. Chapter 1

"Be strong," I told myself. "Don't worry. It's okay." I took a deep breath. "I'm okay."

I walked through the double doors of Wonders, Inc., taking in the view--thirty-foot-high ceilings, marble flooring, everything so shiny and clean the who place was practically a huge bent mirror, and people. Lots of people.

I sighed, ran a hand through my hair, and walked to the front desk.

The lady--about twenty-three, blond, and sort of short--looked up at me and smiled. "Welcome to Wonders," she said kindly. "How may I help you?"

"Um, is there a . . ." I looked down at the paper in my hands. "Kobe Reynolds here? I have a four-o-clock appointment."

She typed something into the computer then looked at me, smiling. "Yes, sixteenth floor, room twenty-four eighty-one. It's on your right," she added.

"Okay, thanks," I said as I turned away.

"No prob."

I walked over to the elevators, pressed the triangle pointing up, and waited. The gold was so shiny I could see myself with no difficulty. Then the doors split, and I stepped inside. 

Or rather, attempted to step in, because as soon as I took a step, I bumped into someone,

"Oh," I huffed. I stepped back. "Sorry."

A girl's voice giggled. "Walk much?"

I looked up to see a boy and a girl, the girl not really wearing appropriate clothes and the guy looking . . . well, hot. He had almost-black hair that obviously used a lot of products, and his eyes . . . his eyes were beautiful. He was wearing black chinos, black and white high tops, a very fitted white tee, and a black jumper. (I'd lived in Blackswell long enough to know the British terms for clothing.) Overall, he looked like Siva from The Wanted.

The girl he had his arm around wasn't really that pretty. Her hair was a blondish color with brown streaks. Her pink tube top did little to cover her cleavage, and her skirt might as well have been a belt. Her silver heels were so tall it was a wonder she even knew how to walk.

I gave her a dirty look. "Dress much?" I retorted, smirking.

Her mouth formed a nice little O, and she gave me a once-over. She quickly recovered, however, and just smirked back.

"At least I know how to dress," she spat.

I scoffed. "Really? Are you trying to get raped?"

"At least I'm trying."

"For money, I'd bet."

Throughout this conversation, the boy holding onto her had gradually slipped his hand away; it was now in his pocket. He smiled just a little every time I insulted the girl.

Now, however, he sensed things were getting  little out of hand. He stuck his hand out.

"So hi, I'm Zayn," he said in a panic. He concealed it with a smile.

I slowly returned the greeting, then my eyes darted back to the whore.

"And this is Scarlett," he continued, looking down at her. She just shot a brief glare before her eyes returned to mine.

There was silence between us--an awkward one for Zayn, a tense one for Scarlett and me. I stared her down; I wasn't about to lose a fight with this girl.

Zayn rubbed the back of his neck. "Right, well, we have to go. Sorry about bumping into you . . ."

I looked up at him and smiled. "Trinity."

"Trinity." He nodded. "Well, come on, Scarlett, we wouldn't want to be late." He chuckled nervously.

Scarlett recovered and wrapped her arms around his waist. I narrowed my eyes, but then smiled when I saw Zayn make a face and awkwardly put his arm around her shoulders. They walked out of the elevator; I turned around to see Scarlett smirking at me and Zayn staring at me. He quickly looked away.

I took a deep breath, trying to control the need to beat the crap out her, and stepped inside the golden elevator. I pressed "16" and waited as the doors closed.

The doors opened, and I stepped into a long hallway filled with doors and pictures. Keeping the receptionist's instructions in mind, I kept my eyes on the right, searching until I found room 2481. I stopped before turning the knob, took a deep breath, then opened the door.

Inside was a desk, a bookshelf, a few pictures, and a large glass wall overlooking Blackswell. Behind the desk was a large swivel chair, its back to me. I heard someone talking on a phone--probably the person sitting in the chair.

"I'll call you back," the voice said. "I have a . . . no. I said no! What part of 'no' don't you understand?! Look, I have to go, I'll call you later."

The chair spun around, and a young man, probably in his early twenties, slammed the sleek black phone into the receiver. He ran a hand through his tousled blond hair and sighed. Then he looked at me.

"Kobe Reynolds at your service," he said cheerily with a smile. "What can I do for ya?"

I could tell he was spent.

"Hi," I said, waving quickly. He waved back just as I was introducing myself. "I'm Trinity Ross."

"Ah! Trinity!" He stood up, walking around his desk while he rubbed his hands together. "Welcome to Wonders."

My eyebrows furrowed, but my lips pulled into a smile. "Um. Thanks." I shook my head. "Uh. I'm here to talk to you about--"

"Yes, yes, I know. Why don't you have a seat?"


I sat down in a nice leather chair, sighing. This is gonna be a long day, I thought as the key to my future sat before me.

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