Multiple Directions (one direction fan fiction)

Sing for Your Life

Hey guys!! this one might be a little short i have no idea but its prob gonna be im sorry :( BUT only four more chapters til the end!!! let me know what you guys think! i've had a couple people talk to me about a sequel but im not sure what do you guys think? let me know! The dress on the side bar is Mellie's dress that Annie designed. In reality I designed it haha what do you guys think? Wow I say that alot huh?- gabs <3 PS: please do the dedication challenge comment thingy that i mentionted last chappie I reaaaaly want to dedicate those chappies! thanks!

One hour. Thats all the time I had left before I went onstage to perform my song. Before I had to sing for survival. To be honest, the whole idea of singing for my life made me sick to my stomach. It just didn't feel right. I wanted to sing for people, just to get my voice out and make them smile. That's how it was for the group song, Shake It Out, but of course I was sharing the stage with Mikey, Suzie, and Stephanie. Still, it wasn't really apart of the comepetion, just four friends - well three friends and one creeper - singing together on stage just letting people enjoy everything. My song, it was different. I was alone onstage, I was singing to save my dream, I was being judged on everything. I do mean everything, from delivery, to the type of song, down to the dress I was wearing.

As I sat in my dressing room thinking about all of this, I realized that I had to be onstage in one hour and I hadn't even seen my dress yet. Max had been locked away all day with some mystery partner finishing my it. I only saw him when he came out to measure me occasionally. Just as I was about to head to the rack to pick something out myself, a risky venture, Max burst through the door with none other than Annie on his heels. My mouth dropped as I saw Annie wasn't her shy blushing self, but that she charged into the rooom with her head held high and eyes sparking. She walked past Max and without a word, started to help me change into the dress she was holding. Everytime I tried to open my motuh and ask her what the heck she was doing adjusting my dress, she just hissed at me and focused on her work. I couldn't even watch her because Max was already holding up my head as he whipped my waves into wonders.

When I saw myself I couldn't even gasp, I was already past that. I just gaped at myself in the full view mirror, trying to process what I was looking at. That girl couldn't be me. She was too...mystic. Everything I felt I was while singing, but I just never looked it til now. There were no words to describe how I was feeling inside. My waves were pinned delicately around my head with a few strands slipping out to fall around my face. My makeup was a masterpiece: a flesh colored shawdow with light liner but massive mascarra made my brown eyes pop and the blush made me look like a princess from a book. But the best part was the dress. The top was a fitted white material that also draped into a slight v neck. A sash with ocean waves on it wrapped around my tiny waist separating the top from the bottom of the dress. The bottom portion was a blue high-low skirt, a favorite fashion trend of mine, but it was twisted so that the high was on one leg and the low draped over the other in a quirky twist of the trend.

Something about the designed made me wonder. It wasn't Max's style; there was not a single sparkle or bow, which he found "fabulous" on me. It had specific details of my taste, something Max hadn't done too much of, like the sash and the skirt. And it was quirkiness, not Max's usual fireceness, that turned the high-low sideways. Then it hit me. That quirkiness was special. I had only seen in one type of designs. I had actually seen this dress before, just a quick glimspe of it, in a particular book.

"Annie," I breathed, "This...this is yours isn't it? You designed this didn't you?"

"Do you like it?" she asked quietly, but her eyes were shining with pride of her work.

I almost hugged the life out of the redhead, as I squealed, "I love it! Annie I'm so proud of you! I told you you were good enough!"

"That's what I thought too," Max laughed at us, "Otherwise she wouldn't have touched the sowing machine."