Boys Like You Are Overrated

Fixated On One Star

"I keep telling myself I'm not the desperate type, but you've got me looking it"

-Fall Out Boy

We were sitting in a semicircle in my room, eyes glued to the television I had gotten for my fourteen's birthday. The boys had dropped us off about two hours ago and we'd spent the time not quite wisely. We watched a chick flick with drool worth abs and bowls of popcorn. I guess we all wanted to pretend that everything was normal. It was only a few minutes ago that I finally got around to checking my phone. I had twenty text messages from Louis and various other mobile numbers I have no recollection of seeing before in my life. Apparently a photographer snagged a "tell all" photo of a mystery girl along with a member of One Direction.

Management was livid and no one could get ahold of the network to see who it was. We watched the familiar paid gossipers on the screen, with hearts in our throats. One of us was about to get a shit ton of hate, and probably have to hire body gaurds. What could they have captured? Hell, Harry in the fountain was a perfect Kodack moment, perhaps they got Jade and Zayn helping him out. I tried to remember who got to him first but all I got was a memory fuzzed over in concentration. But what about the moments I wasn't there with them? I groaned, noticing how no one even looked my way. The announcer's voice finally announced a quick commercial break and then the photo.

"We'll be okay guys, I mean, we didn't snog anyone," I chuckled nervously, only getting glazed over glances. Humor gets you no where. I swiped a green pillow off my bed and squeezed it in my hands. We had programed each of the boys numbers in our phones after the initial shock had worn of. By then it was about twenty minutes before the show even came on. They were each trying to consolidate us, but we all knew it was hopeless. Normality was our comfort zone, this paparitzi frenzy surrounding them would swallow us whole. Myself , I can't cope with more than a classroom's eyes on me. I curled and uncurled my toes, staring expentantly at the screen.

"Hello, this is Julia Ransank and we're back! Now, I know you're all wondering about which One D hottie was spotted with a mystery girl at a local mall in LA," her smile was too bright. I pressed the pillow against my mouth, bracing myself to scream when a polaroid of me hugging Niall showed up. All the future hate was swimming underneath my eyelids. How was I going to cope? Is it wrong to say I hope it's someone else? No, it should be me. I was the one who found out about the signing. I'm sure Jade would've too but I got to the internet page first.

"It seems heart throb Harry Styles was forced into a liplock with a lucky fan! Whileist escaping a massive crowd, he was spun around by Abigail Jones, fifteen, and had a quick smooch." The sound Aria made voiced all of our thoughts. Stupid paps, got us worked up all over nothing. When the photo flashed I saw Jade nonchalantly look away. Damn it, she's fallen.

"Hey, hey, love the kiss was involuntary, don't sweat it," I exclaimed, while Emma patted her shoulder gently. Jade nodded slowly but tears were pooling in her chocolate orbs. Shit fucking whore, why? Aria was struggling to make funny faces and I hobbled to my feet on pins and needles. To the ice cream! I made sure no one noticed me grab my phone on the way out. I rolled on and off my bed, walking through the white washed hall to the yellow kitchen. We still had red, green, and brown paint swabs on the wall from when we could afford to consider repainting it. Or even more so, the time.

"Hello? We just saw the brodcast," Harry sounded bright and cheery on the other line. I waved to my mom who was heading out the door to the garage. Her and my dad were probably watching "Nurse Jackie". My younger brother was glued to the computer, like usual.

"You made her cry," I whispered, anger seeping into my voice though I tried not to. I couldn't help it, he hurt her. It wasn't his fault but that didn't mean he shouldn't be aware of his actions.