Confessions of a Fandom Freak: A One Direction Story

CONFESSION ONE

CONFESSION ONE

Her hand graced his slightly,feeling an electric shock spark through their fingertips. She blushed slightly, staring up at him. "Are you okay?" he asked, his smile revealing bright teeth and shining eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replied hesitantly, catching his gaze with her warm brown eyes. Suddenly, they both began to lean forward into a kiss,caught in each other, forgetting the world....

"Viv? What are you doing?" my mom asks, staring at me quizzically while my eyes still lock on the screen, caught in my work. I quickly close the tab and open up my Government essay on word.

"AP gov essay. Kinda zoned out into it," I chuckle slightly, trying to cover the lie. "Oh well... Study. AP tests start in three days but I'm not too worried about it. You already got into school.," she says flatly, leaving the room just as quickly as she came, closing the door on her way out.

I scroll over to bring the safari page back onto my MacBook. Wattpad. Ever heard of it?

I have to say that it's about the fifth best thing I have ever discovered on the internet(that is after One Direction, Jenna Marbles, Dear Blank Please Blank, and iwastesomuchtime).Frankly, it keeps me sane.

I've been writing my own stories for a while. Most of them are fanfiction to help soothe the sexual frustration I get from being a major One Direction fan. Recently, I've been branching out, writing paranormal and non One Direction stories.

I'll admit that I'm not the most popular person on wattpad, but I'm not to shabby. The first story that I wrote got to 300K reads last week. I  

guess I'm popular for once there.

I hit publish and added another chapter to my newest story to my account named "Viva la Viv",getting fifty reads in an hour and ten votes and some comments. "Not bad," I whisper to myself, writing the concluding paragraph of my Government essay on the effects of the Miranda Laws.

"Are you sure you aren't hungry?" my mom asks, popping her head in snootily. "I hate earlier. While you were shopping," I state with a smile. "Good. I was really starting to get worried about you Viv!" she closes the door again and I have an urge to lock it but I know I will get grounded for that.

Truth is, I haven't eaten all day. No one knows. All they see is that I'm loosing weight and constantly comment on it, making me feel justified in my decision. My friends used to always compare me to the girl version of Niall, scarfing down anything I could get my grubby hands on. I wasn't that overweight or anything.

I just felt uncomfortable in my own body. It's really hard to look at people like Eleanor Calder and to be able to convince myself that I'm beautiful. Now don't tell me that "you don't know you're beautiful" crap right now. Trust me I love One Direction to death and back but I'm a better person now, a different person. I turn 18 at the end of may then go to USF. Enough about my insecurities for now, I have too many to talk about in one sitting.

I check the clock on my iPhone and jump, 3 o'clock? My shift starts at four. I slip on a dark blue Vneck and jeans, changing out of my polar bear pajamas. I toss my phone with my Barista uniform into my tote of a London pay phone aka the tardis.

Putting some mascara, eyeliner, and a gold eyeshadow is enough. I'm plain and simple, not trashy. I have reddish brown hair(auburn if you must) and large but very faint freckles scattered across my face they are easy to cover up with makeup. I have brown eyes that everyone describes as warm and big. When I think of warm brown eyes I think of Liam's eyes and mine don't seem like that. Yeah, everything reminds me of One Direction.

The Starbucks where I work is only two blocks down so I set off, wrapping a SF giants jacket around me. I take in the smells and commotion of the city as I move by. We live in an apartment complex in the heart of the city. They are kind of expensive but my mom wanted to splurge. She divorced my abusive father after so much that we have been through in my hometown. I want to just move past it. I moved to San Francisco last year and it seemed to be the only dream I shared with my mother.