This is NOT your typical fan fiction. This isn't going to be your average clichéd accidental meeting a celebrity, falling in love, getting pregnant, and living happily ever after. And NO, nobody was child hood friends, I wanted to do something different. If you are into those kind of stories, I suggest that you NOT read this. PS. This is rated PG13/14 for a reason. There ARE STR8 sex scenes. (Sorry ladies, theres no homosexual Mclovin' in THIS.) I am EXTREMELY DESCRIPTIVE. (Though, I will write alternate versions of each chapter for those of you who don't like all the juicy details. Simply ask for the rated version, and I'll make sure there is one written.) There IS some moderate explicit language. THEY ARE TEENAGERS. I plan to make this as real as my brain can think, and as vivid as my fingers can type. Rant over, Prepare for your minds and ovaries to be blown to literary pieces!
"Call me Azlyn, and harken to my tale. This is my excursion to fame." I read aloud the first, and last line of my autobiography for the twelfth time. The blinking cursor mocked me, as I have nothing more to write. I am not famous, though I aspire to be. My life is nothing but the average story. The only exciting--unique, rather, thing about me is my name. And thats not much to go off of.
I shut my laptop, and put it in it's case angrily. Irritation washed over me as I realized I had put Cheez-Its in my bag a while earlier for my shift at the hotel. With a glance at my watch, I realized that I would be late if i didn't leave now.
I scribbled on a sticky note telling my sisters I was off to work, and I would be back tomorrow around 12. I was working double shifts to pay my older sister, Dominique, off. Hopefully, Gary wouldn't be there. But, she bought me VIP tickets to the One Direction concert since I didn't have the money to buy them then, so we decided that I would pay her off in due time. It was totally worth it though, I got pictures with all of the boys, autographs, a tee-shirt, and I got to kiss Harry on the cheek. I even slipped my Twitter name into each of their pockets. If that wasn't worth the money, I don't know what is. Strategic, much?
I put on my peacoat, grabbed my keys off the table, and headed to work. The roads were pretty bad, though thats just typical St. Louis weather. When I finally got to the Ameristar hotel, where I work, I saw that it was pretty empty. Not that with how bad it was outside, I expected it to be busier than usual. I saw a few old couples, that were heading toward the casino. Seeing older couples made me feel like I wouldn't be a lonely turtle all my life; at some point I'm bound to find someone to love me. I laughed to my self as I thought of the forever alone face. I went to the front counter, and rang the bell. I walked around, and behind the counter to clock in. I was barely on time, with only 2 minutes to spare. From the back room, Magenta appeared. Magenta was my best friend with red, and orange hair. She was notorious for being very outspoken, but I just loved her more for it. We were lucky that we got a job at the same place. We did different things though. She worked at the front desk she did check-ins, and phone calls. She was also my manager. I was more of a housekeeper. I loved my job, nonetheless.
"Hey, Azlyn. Is it still sleeting outside?" She asked, while reaching to give me a hug.
"Ugh, of coarse. St. louis weather is the worst." I finished clocking in, and went to get my outfit-apron thing. I've been working here for 5 months, and I still don't know how to describe my work attire.
"Well you know what they say. If you can live through our weather, you can live anywhere." She breathed a laugh, as did I.
"True. So, whats my assignment for today, boss?" I went to get the housekeeping cart from back where Magenta had once been.
"Honestly, you can leave. We have only had 3 people check-in today. There are some rooms that could be restocked, but that can wait until tomorrow. I've rented my self a hotel on the 19th floor if you want to come room with me, you can. It's a 2 bedder."
"Yeah, I guess I'll stay. I'll need a key, though. But for the time being, I'll finish stocking each room." She put our room key on the counter, and I slipped it into my skinny jeans pocket, knowing it would be safe. Tying my apron thing around my back and pushing my cart, I was off to the 12th floor, and eventually made my way all the way to the top.
I had just finished stocking each floor and it was a quarter till 12. I had spent the past 2 and a half hours listening to One Direction and the Millionaires. Unlikely music mix, right? I headed back down to the hotel lobby, to return the cart to the storage room, and to tell Magenta I was ready to go to bed. Once I got there, there was a sight that left me quite intrigued. There were 5 people, guys from what I could see, and they were hooded. They had on sunglasses, though it was dark as hell, and sleeting outside. They were huddled up together, looking very inconspicuous. Once I pried my interest from the hooded figures, which I swear I thought one of the guys could have been Liam Payne; I saw Magenta. She was talking to a rather large, bald man. She was nodding her head viscously, and typing something on the computer just as fast. My iPod that was in my hand slipped, and hit the hand floor. And when I say it hit the floor, it landed with a loud "THUD!". Everyone in the lobby turned in my direction. I felt my cheeks heat up, and my first instinct was to ditch the cart and hide behind the tan, cashmere couch. In one not-so-graceful leap, went from behind the cart to behind the couch. My second thought was to try to change identities, or appearances at least. I took off the apron, balled it up, and let my hair down.
I peeped from behind the couch, and the hooded figures were headed toward the elevators that lead to the hotels. Well, all except for one. He stood above me, my iPod in hand, and smiled. His hood descended from his head, and what do you know? It was none other than One Directions' Harry Styles.
A/N: Ugh, the ending was so clichéd! But, it rhymed so….
Song Of The Day: Cute, Without The E-Taking Back Sunday