graffiti - z.m.

{ 4 }

Of course the dress was a perfect fit. I raised my brow at the black louboutin heels; he was really going out of his way this time, huh? But no matter what he did I wasn’t coming back to him - no this would be one last time. And a chance for me to get him to understand that. I had changed. He knew that - so why did he keep on trying to drag me back into my old role?

 

Vera came and informed me the driver was there, just as I had finished my cup of coffee. Quickly I swept the black leather purse off the table and stuck my phone in it as well. I could get a cab home later. At least there would be the party at The Roof tonight - that would hopefully get my mind cleared after today, which was obviously going to be so awkward.

 

I got up and Vera sent me a small smile, as I sighed heavily. The elevator made that ‘pling’ noise telling me it was time to go. I crossed through the huge room and tried preparing myself mentally for my mission today; to let Tomlinson know we were never going to be a thing again. Never.

[zayn’s pov]

 

“Holy crap,” I turned on the sofa and groaned as I tried locating the mobile phone which was bipping like insane. What time was it? Oh god my head was hurting like hell.

 

Finally I found the damn noisy object and pressed the snooze button frantically as it just wouldn't shut the fuck up. Old piece of crap. The silence was heavenly, as I fell back into the pillow and held the bridge of my nose. What time had I gotten home last night? How had I even gotten home?

 

I peaked one eye open and checked the clock on the old crap mobilephone; the glowing digits on the cracked screen told me it was 12.55 am. Fucking hell. I rolled over once again in the sofa. Last night was one big blurry mess. I barely remembered anything - how much had I been drinking for Christ’s sake?

 

I recalled how Halie had sprayed with a pink color on my white shirt and I had tried catching her. I remembered the fire we had started under the bridge and doing various of drinking games. Just a regular Friday really. I shook my head and decided coffee might help on my memory - and painting. I recalled how I some days ago had seen this construction site, which had been totally cleared out. Those walls could definitely need some color.

 

With something to look forward to I rolled out of the bed, got hold of a pair of black jeans and led my hand through my messy black hair as I walked to the kitchen with my one eye still closed. God hangovers sucked. But it would definitely help to get painted some new stuff today.

[nora’s pov] 

“Well you do look mouthwatering - as always!” Louis’ grin grew huge, as I exited the black car with the toned windows which had brought me here. The Tomlinson family had people to drive them wherever - including drivers for everyone around them, whom they wanted to feel special.

He was wearing a white shirt with a black blazer over and new black skinny jeans. Classy and casual. With the hair greased and styled in a rock’n’roll quiff, which made girls drool over a guy like him, he looked amazing as usual. And yet he was here - with me. And I didn’t even want to freaking be here. Oh the sweet irony.

 

The sun was shining brightly and warmly; illuminating the brick buildings around us, which were maximum ten stories approximately. They looked so small compared to the skyscrapers I usually saw in Manhattan. As we had crossed over the Brooklyn Bridge I had suspiciously asked the driver where we were heading - Louis had said it would be downtown. Maybe he had gotten it wrong?

 

“Smack Mellon Gallery ma’am. In the Dumbo area of Brooklyn.” The driver had told me with a heavy accent, as he had spoken over his shoulder to me here on the back seat.

“The Smack what Gallery?” I had heard of the Dumbo area before - I think Jay had talked about it. Or maybe it had been Alice.

“The Smack Mellon Gallery located at 92 Plymouth Street. Ma'am.”

“Oh.” Well this was going to be interesting then.

Louis held out his hand in a way too sugarsweet gentleman'ish manner, which just made me groan at him. He flashed a smirk at my dismay, as I tried balancing on the cobblestones in the high heels. Briefly I let my eyes run over the entrance - it seemed rather normal with the square glass doors and the square glass windows covering the red brick facade of the building. If it hadn’t been for the fact that several women in designer dresses and men in casual tailored suits were standing out here gossiping excitedly in small groups, everyone with a glass of bubbly champagne in their perfectly slender hands, I would have thought this was just another Brooklyn industrial storage of some kind.

But I knew this area had changed the last decade - it had turned into a hotspot for artists. Small galleries would be created in the old abandoned industrial buildings, which had once been factories, and in that way the charm of the place would be the perfect frame for presenting new interesting art.

 

I guessed this was one of those places.

“Welcome to Brooklyn,” Louis sent me a grin as my eyes grew wide at the sight behind us. Smack Mellon Gallery was placed in the first row of buildings to face the East River. No wonder everyone was standing out here. The sight was beyond compare - familiar in the way that it was Manhattan’s skyline you could see on the other side of the river - but different as I had never seen it from this side before. The Brooklyn Bridge was close and it looked bigger than ever as it stretched out over the river to reach mainland - Manhattan - on the other side. Holy shit. Why had I never been here before?

{ please vote & comment }

a/n: Try to google 'smack mellon brooklyn' I swear! It's such a beautiful gallery! :O Never been there - but wish I had!