Journey to Forever [One Direction Fan-Fiction]

Chapter 30

Chapter 30 – Ann’s POV

My dream is shatter by the pounding on the door early in the morning. The loud, rhythmic sounds of fist against the wooden door become very annoying as it progresses over time that I can no longer ignore it.

“Can a girl get a little break?” I mutter as I climb off the bed in my pajama, yawning as I make my way to the still loud pounding on the door. Who could it be? It’s, like, four in the morning. I’m all alone in the room, Maia left just before nightfall after accompanying me for the whole day – like every other day recently – and my dear two roommates went to join the boys in Ireland. I refused to go or went into that topic.

My heart won’t allow it.

I open the door and a spur of irritation course through me to see Clover but then it changes to worry as I see the state she’s in. Her blue-grey eyes are red and puffy after crying, her hair is a dishevel mess after running her hand through them so frequently and sobs are coming out of her lips. My first instinct is to hug her and usher her in without much question, allowing her to sit at the foot of her bed. Sitting beside her, I rub her back soothingly as she lays her head on my shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” I ask after her sobbing stops.

“I think I just made the biggest mistake in my entire life,” she cries and the sobbing resumes. That’s the end of our conversation. After that every time I try to broach the subject she just burst into tears so I don’t think it’s wise to force it out of her. What learn from last week is to not force someone to talk because you just don’t know how painful the words are to utter. All that crying and whatever she endured before tires her out and before I know it, she falls asleep. I let her curl up on her bed and I leave to take a shower.

After a long shower of dwelling in my misery, I dry myself up and dress in a long white halter dress and a light brown cardigan, adding a thin brown belt around my small waist. I towel dry and brush my golden blonde hair before doing it in a side braid. After procrastinating, I finally look at myself in a mirror. I look no different than I do; I dress the same and my hair is not a disheveled mess, but I get to my face, there’s a real horror in them – chapped lips and bags under my puffy, swollen eyes from my sleepless nights. I swipe a little light pink gloss and cover the bags with some concealer. I don’t usually wear a lot of make-up but this in an exception. But not even make-up can cover the sadness in my eyes.

A sound comes out of my mouth, a sob really, and I cover it with my hand. But more keeps coming. Tears I try to fight back brims in my eyes and leaks over. Uninvited, heart-wrenching images from the Teen Choice Awards enter my mind; that girl in his arms, kissing him and claiming to be his girlfriend. The shock, anger and sadness I felt come rushing back to me, and I cry my heart out on the bathroom floor. The tears soon stop and I stand up to look at the mess I’m in on the bathroom mirror. I fix my make-up, adding black eyeliner to reduce the redness in my eyes. It’s time to move on and be strong.

After a few rag breaths, I walk back to the bed room to see Clover still pass out. I grab a piece of paper and a pen to write a note saying that I’m getting both of us breakfast, remembering how insane Larissa went the last time I didn’t. After putting on my brown wedges and my brown messenger back, I head out to the café across campus. Looks are thrown my way – it ranges from envy to smug to sympathy – but none of them have the nerve to say anything to my face. A bunch of cowards.  No doubt the rumor mill is working full time now, about us and the One Direction boys.

I’ve had the whole week last week to be all miserable and I completely ran out of self-pity that I now can walk around in public with my head high, at least without breaking down like some pathetic, desperate girl. Ignoring the stares, some pointed fingers and yes, the whispers; I enter the café and order some breakfast and coffee. Darren, one of the guys I try to date, is behind the counter. He’s your average looking cute guy with blonde hair and green eyes. He gives me a smile and walks over to where I stand.