"No. No. No. NO." Hope murmured, blinking her eyes, hoping what she saw in front of her was an illusion. "No fucking way. This is not possible."
Her dad chuckled, as he picked up her suitcase, smiling ominously. "Since we're together again, I am reinforcing the rules we used to go by. As in, no swearing. Think you can handle that, princess?"
Hope shook her head, and grabbed her suitcase back. "No. I can't. Which is why if you don't let go of my bags in three seconds, I will scream."
Suddenly, he pulled her in for a tight hug, his aroma itself making Hope try to fight against it. "Listen here." He whispered. "I am still in the business. I can have you killed if you attempt any funny business. And I will."
Hope jerked back, and glared at him. "You never thought I was funny anyways." She tried her best to stand taller, her heals helping her out a bit.
He snorted, and picked up her suitcase again, grabbing her phone out of her hands. "Funny looking."
"Give me my phone back!" Hope protested, trying to reach for it.
"No. Now get in the car before we find out how fragile you actually are."
Meanwhile, Zayn was punching a wall, silently crying, alone in a wood cabin.
But Hope has it worse and Zayn's being a lil pussy so back to Hope.
"Were are we going?" Hope asked as he started the engine. Her father looked at her and smiled, but refused to say anything.
Inside, Hope was panicking. This could not be real. This could not be happening. People like him don't just waltz back into people's lives like this. This sounds like an irrational fanfiction. This was insane.
Calmly, she looked at him. "May I please have my phone back?"
"Nope."
"Fuck yourself. That's my phone, and I want it back."
He snickered, before rolling down the window and throwing the phone out. "Too late." He laughed, as Hope screeched in horror.
"Dude. What the fuck?"
"No swearing. I am not afraid to hit you."
"And I'm not afraid to fucking hit back! I'm not fifteen anymore, you spineless twat."
He pulled over the car. "Out." He barked, unlocking the car.
Hope quickly got out, knowing there was no hope for her phone. "You will never talk like that to your father again." He hissed, straightening his tie.
"You're no father." She snarled back.
SLAP
The sound of skin hitting skin was even worse than the hit itself, ringing through the woods. Hope knew she was already bruising, but she didn't care. It was time she showed him how she felt.
She hit him back. Finally, after years and years of anguish and pain, Hope Marie Stillwell hit back.
And it was glorious. Liam had taught her how to box one day after he decided to become mister buff dude, so she knew exactly how to hit, right on the left cheek. She knew she had to twist her waist a bit to hit just right, for the maximum bruise. But she wasn't prepared for the pleasure she felt when he coiled back, when the sound emitted.
But it was short lived. Soon after, they were fighting, tackling each other, punching and screaming.
"You tried to kill me!" Hope screamed, kicking his leg.
"I should have tried harder!" he would reply, ripping out a patch of hair.
Finally, they ceased, out of breath, and beaten.
"I'll be on my way home now, thanks bye." Hope snarled, grabbing her suitcase, and started to walk back the way they had came from.
"What the fuck do you call home? A place with nobody but you?" Her father called after her. "Face it kid. You're alone."
Hope turned back. "Actually, no." She started to walk back towards him. "I come home everyday from something prestigious, like a photoshoot, or a video, and I am greeted by five of my best friends. And one of them will hug me til I bruise and then apologize and I always say it's totally fine because after what you did to me, I'm almost immune to pain. And I'm happy because he cares enough to hold onto me that tight. That's rare. And then two of them will start arguing (rest assured they are totally in love with each other, they just don't know it yet.) and soon I'll be in the middle of it because they both value my opinion enough to want me on my side. And there's always this one boy who cries over someone he lost and then he'll start to drink, which kinda sucks for me because of me being, y'know, me. But it's okay because he always hugs me and tells me how much he loves me. Which I don't respond to because you sort fucked me up in love department. And the last boy will kiss me and remind me of just how beautiful he thinks I am. His name is Zayn Malik, and I love him, and he loves me. So fuck you for think you can just waltz in here and tell me how you think I live." She finished, flicking her hair.
Needless to say, he was stunned. Finally, he blinked, and glared at her. "He doesn't love you. Nobody will ever love you. You're a fucking mess and a slut."
Hope snorted. "Wrong again. Zayn does. And so do the other four boys I've learned to love. So goodbye, you drunk, sad dick." Hope turned around again, smiling to herself.
BANG.
Suddenly, Hope felt a sharp pain on the back of her head, as she started to feel woozy. Quickly, she gingerly touched the back of her head. A sticky substance was coming out, that Hope deemed to be blood. Slowly, she turned around to see a gun pointed at her, as her father stood in front of her, his hands shaking.
She didn't have time to react, though, because her senses kicked in, and soon she was on the ground, seeing doubles.
The last thing she heard before passing out was her father, crying.
••••
"C'mon Niall. It's not sound logic to think that Star Trek is better than Star Wars. It doesn't even compare!"
"Oh my god. Liam, you nerd. I don't even know how you got on this subject." Niall retorted, before his phone started to ring. "Hello?"
"Hello, is this Niall Horan?"
"Yes. Who am I speaking to?"
"California Central Hospital."
Niall jerked back, getting the rest of the boys to quiet. "Why are you calling?"
"You are under Hope Marie Stillwell's list as who to call if she is under an emergency."
"What the fuck happened?!"
"It's hard to explain sir. But we insist you come immediately, she might not last for long." The lady responded, before the line went dead.
