Cupcakes and 5 boys

Chapter 1

WARNING: I started writing this mid 2012... so it is a little "carroty" please, bear with me!!! please keep reading because it gets better! I promise!!! :) Thanks for clicking on my story! I hope you enjoy!

-Liz xxxx

ESTHER'S POV

I opened my eyes and groaned. My alarm on my phone was going off. With my eyes still closed I reached my arm out and swiped it across my bedside table, searching for my phone. In this process I knocked everything on the little table, which included an alarm clock, a box of tissues, many water bottles and God knows what else to the ground and all of this, obviously, caused a loud noise. Me, of course not being fully aware of what was going on in the first place, since I was half asleep, shot up in bed, sitting straight up and panting. My phone alarm was still going off and I rummaged through the pile of junk that used to be on my bedside table to find my phone.

After I finally found it I turned off the annoying beeping alarm. After this I sighed at the quiet in my tiny apartment. I lay back down onto my pillows and stared at my poster covered walls. Most of them were from books and movies I am obsessed with. But my favorite posters were all on one wall. It was my wall of British music. This wall, of course contained pictures of Ed Sheeran and Olly Murs; in my opinion they were the best single artists known to man. And I had my bands up there too. There were some Little Mix posters and of course, you can't have a British music wall without One Direction!!! Overall there were more One Direction posters than any other.

I'm a Directioner. I can't deny it. My friend, Rosie, and I had become obsessed with them right when they came out on X-Factor. We both just loved how they sounded so good live. We always complain about all the modern artists that just had edited voices. I personally had no respect for them because I considered that cheating. We had stuck with them through thick and thin. When they only got third place, we cried, when they got signed, we cried, it's safe to say that we cry a lot. We have always loved them. Through breakups, drama, rumors. And no we do not just like them because of their looks. I mean, sure, that just adds to the awesomeness, but we like them for their music. There's just no way to put into words the intensity and power that I feel every time I listen to one of their songs. I get chills every time. Music chills. You know when something is so gorgeously harmonized or just sounds freaking sweet, you get chills. You shiver and get goose bumps. They are the best band ever, and I don't care what other people think. So I will continue to be a proud Directioner until the day I die.

After I broke out of my little fantasy bubble, I realized I had to get ready for work, fast. My bakery, PattyCakes, opened at 9:00am. It was 7:45! I had to get ready fast. Since I own the place I have to be there early to set everything up. I jumped out of bed and was leaping for my closet when one of my feet got tangled inside the sheets of my bed. I yelped and tumbled down onto the carpet. I was lying on my stomach and I set my elbow on the ground so I could rest my head on my hand. I sighed and blew air up to my forehead, trying to get my bangs out of my eyes. This was not starting out to be a great day.

After I moped for about thirty seconds, not having time for a full blown pout session, I jumped up again and practically flung the door to my closet off its hinges. I grabbed a pair of skinny jeans and shimmied them up my legs. I threw on a black, tight long sleeved shirt. I tossed on my favorite scarf, my favorite shade of blue, a very light teal, and arranged it the right way. I slid my feet into my favorite pair of TOMS, the same color as my scarf but with a tie-dye pattern to them, the perfect shade going from light to dark in beautiful swirls. After double checking my reflection, I sprinted to the bathroom tossed on some concealer in the right places, natural looking eyeliner, I didn't need much to enhance my bright blue-green eyes, and some mascara. I didn't know what to do with my long brown hair so I just left it down. It was natural today because I had taken a shower last night. My hair went down to about the middle of my back, it had natural highlights and was slightly curly, but mostly wavy.

"Well this is as good as it's going to get." I said to myself. I walked out to the main area of my apartment. Nothing special. There is a fairly nice kitchen, the perfect size for me, good sized living area and just enough room for me to put my pet beds. I have two cats and a dog. I don't know the cat breeds but my dog is a Golden Retriever. His name is Prince Philip, Phil for short, I don't know why; I just felt that was the right name for him. My cats, one boy, one girl, are named Chunk and Babbs.

     Phil was laying on his bed but the minute I entered the room his head shot up, ears perked up, and tongue hanging out in this adorable doggish grin. Chunk was on the couch and Babbs was playing with a toy on the rug.

"Hey Chunk, Babbs, Phil." I said, my usual morning greeting to "family" "Who's hungry?!" I asked in that special tone that made Phil jump out of his bed and fly at me. I scratched his ears. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed the cat food and dog food out of the cupboard. I put the right amounts in their dishes, checked their water bowls, making sure they were full, grabbed a granola bar, my keys, purse and phone, and headed out the door, locking it behind me, while saying "See yawl later." I always say goodbye like this. Just a funny little habit.

I took the stairs two at a time and almost tripped a couple of times. I'm clumsy. What can I say? It runs in my genes. After finally making it down the stairs, without dying, I burst out into the street. It wasn't crowded because I live in Bloomington, Illinois. You probably don't know where that is so I will fill you in. It's is a small city in central Illinois. Doesn't it already sound like the most boring place on earth? Trust me it is. I walked the five blocks to my pride and joy. My cute little corner bakery.

I had always wanted one. I started baking when I was really young, at least five or six. My grandma Patty taught me. Hence the name PattyCakes. Plus it sounded freaking adorable. I stood outside for a couple of minutes just staring at my newest accomplishment. I loved it. It was exactly how I had always pictured it. It was in the perfect spot in town. Right in the center of all the main hotels where people would be staying, but still near many neighborhoods that might have regular customers. I unlocked the door after my five minutes of gawking and walked inside. It still smelled like fresh cookies and cupcakes from the batches I had made last night. I sighed in content as I flipped the little switch to the sign that said we were open. Time to just sit around, try not to eat all the sweets, and hope someone comes in and spreads the word about my bakery.