graffiti - z.m.

{ 1 }

I sent a polite smile to James, who was holding the massive glass door open for me - holding it open for the seemingly endless stream of young dreamers, who went here; the Fifth Avenue School of Fine Arts. For short we called it FIA.

The sight of the entré hall which met me was so familiar, that I at this point had started to overlook the breathtaking beauty of the mahogany carved pillars or the black marble floor with that inch of glitter, which made you think you were walking on stars.

Echoing through the magnificent, huge room was laughter and the sound of heels clicking against the stone floor, as the female students crossed the floor heading for class with their lattes in one hand and the Gucci bag in the other.

I would have loved to spend hours upon hours telling you how this very building had created artists after artists, whose mere names would make you drop your jaw in awe. I could probably spend days telling you about the history of these great halls; how they had been founded by a young woman from a wealthy family who went against all the expectations and started this art school. What a passion, that must have required.

So you see - yes I was grateful that I went here, yes I was thankful that I had the opportunity so many others craved - but still my life wasn't the ideal dream one. I wanted something else. This was just getting boring.

From the corner of my eye I noticed the hot shot senior, that everyone knew. He was son of some wealthy CEO, who had invented some IT thing, that apparently the whole world had been in desperate need of. At this very moment he sat on the armrest of the traditional crimson leather sofa, which was probably from the Victorian time or something. All I knew was the value of just one was probably more than the total of all the Apple products I had ever owned in my 18 years of life - and that said quite a lot.

He was sitting there flashing his charming smile at the group of girls, who looked enchanted up at him as if he was some kind of freaking greek God. Oh come on!

Louis Tomlinson. A totally brainless prick, that was what he was. Smoking hot of course - but such a douche. Which was also why he went here - because he thought he wouldn't have to use his brain. Arts. Dancing. Theatre. Music. He had thought it would be easy. Obviously he knew nothing - and it remained a mystery to me how he had managed to stay here for so long. Though something told me the influence of his father might have played a minor role in the explanation. Most of the students here were - to say it frankly - rich kids. And their dads and mums loved funding the maintenance of the ancient, most outstanding library or maybe 'donate' a dozen traditional red leather sofas from the Victorian time. Because there was nothing more important than to maintain the traditional academy for a hundred more years. Of course that was their only reason for giving such gracious gifts. Of course.

I rolled my eyes and hitched up in the brown Mulberry shoulder bag, which hung across my body. Today I wore Chanel ballerinas, which dad had given me this week - as the weather outside was so invitingly warm and beautiful, I had planned a walk in Central park after my lessons here.

"Nora!"

Well just fucking perfect. I sighed heavily, as I watched Tomlinson jump from the couch and leave the group of admirers behind.

"What's up babe?" His smirk was too much and honestly I couldn't believe I had ever dated that prick.

"Definitely not you," I moved to the side in a try to get past him, but he mirrored my movement blocking the way.

"Louis just get lost! Just," I stepped to the side again - but he mirrored my motion once again. How freaking annoying could he get?

"Stop bothering me!"

His smirk grew wider at my frustration and utter pure disgust, "okay. Just one last date and I'll leave you alone. One last. Yeah? Agreement?"

"No-o." I stared at him with disbelief, what the hell?

"Come on babe - my sister's new boyfriend got a new art exhibition downtown this weekend. Told me he's upcoming - please come and give me company? You can analyze all the abstract and oh-so-freaking-deep works for me. Yeah? I know you love that stuff. One last time? Just for old times sake yeah?"

"You're really fucking annoying you know that?"

"I reckon - but you loved it once. Remember?" His eyes were sparkling with amusement, just like the glitter in the black marble floor - or like the diamond my dad's new 'girlfriend' had shown off this morning at the breakfast table - to my utter despair and shock.

"Fuck you Tomlinson."

"I take that as a yes then - I'll have my driver pick you up at one babe."

A groan of burning irritation escaped my lips, I shook my head in frustration and pushed his shoulder hard so I could finally get past the miserable fucker.

As I headed up the giant marble staircase leading out to the other parts of the freaking Hogwartz-like-school, I could hear the group of girls chatter half excited, half offended over the intense encounter between the hotshot ex-couple of this place.


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