Status: Completed! Make sure to follow me on tumblr: usehernamex3.tumblr.com
Forever Young
Ninth
My phone buzzed next to me, waking me up from a daydream. I tilted the screen towards me and smiled at the name.
”Where are yooou? x x – Zayn”
My eyes flew to the clock on the wall behind my professor, and my heart sank a little when I realized that I had another gruesome thirty minutes of a riveting lecture (note the sarcasm) before I could see the light of day. I looked around at my other classmates and was reassured that mostly everyone looked to be about as bored as I felt. I looked back down at my phone and typed in the message: ”In class. Dying a slow painful death. – Keiko”
“Please don’t die. Meet us at the studio instead! x x – Zayn”
I glanced up at the clock again and, upon seeing that there was still twenty-nine long minutes of class, packed up my belongings. As the professor tried to crack a joke to revive the class, I slipped out the back of the lecture hall and hurried towards the parking lot.
- - - - -
The studio was an intimidating place to be. The urban-cool-artsyfartsy music producers sitting behind a massive board of buttons, bobbing their heads and whispering music jargon and the display of high-end recording equipment made me feel like I wasn’t worthy to be in their presence. I sat wide-eyed and quiet on the leather couch, feeling slightly uncomfortable. From inside the booth, Zayn kept sneaking peeks at me and making quirky little faces, helping me to relax a little.
The producers ended their conversation and turned to address the boys, “Ok, we’re going to do another take of the chorus. Remember this song is about being in love; so let us really feel and hear the emotion. Got it?”
Like little schoolboys, they nodded their heads in unison and the music began to play. I’m not going to lie; I was pretty stoked about the simple invitation to listen in on One Direction recording their next album. But, my level of excitement reached an extraordinary level when the boys opened their mouth to sing. The smooth mix of their voices sent chills throughout my body. I made a mental note to myself to bow down to Simon Cowell if I ever had the chance to meet him. He certainly knew what he was doing when he put these five young men together.
When the boys closed their mouths, I had to physically stop myself from giving them a standing ovation. Unfortunately, I was the only one who felt that way. Both producers let out a sigh of exasperation, exchanging glances and throwing up their hands in defeat.
“Ok, that wasn’t quite right,” one of them said.
The other looked back at me, “Which one of them are you dating?”
I stared back at him, stuttering, “I, I, I’m not dating any of them. Sorry.
He took off his sunglasses and scooted closer towards me, scrutinizing me he asked, “Then why are you here?”
I swallowed hard, scared that he was going to throw me out, “Well Zayn ask-“
“There you go!” He cut me off, “Go give your precious little Zayn a peck on the cheek so he can sing like he’s in love.” He motioned his hands for me to enter the booth.
I mouthed a “what?” But, the producer egged me on, “Go on. Get in there.”
Awkwardly, I stood up and shuffled over to the door leading into the booth. I looked back at the two producers and they gave me the thumbs up to go on in. When I opened the door, all five of the boys looked in my direction.
“Er,” I looked at them, embarrassed I began to speak, “I just need to…”
I couldn’t think of how to explain myself, so I shut my mouth, marched on in, gave Zayn a quick kiss, and marched back out, hearing the boys whistle and tease Zayn.
Within seconds, the room filled with the same ballad the boys’ harmonies. Again, I felt chills listening to their raw voices. When the take was over, I anxiously awaited the reaction of the music producers. After a brief moment of silence, the two erupted in applause.
“Amazing!” said the one on the left.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” exclaimed the other.
They looked at me and then back at the boys, “Make sure to bring her every time you record a love song.”
- - - - -
My professor droned on again. Except this time, I had no escape route because the boys were back in London. I spent a good amount of time in the last few days before they flew back home. Most of the time, however, was spent in private places where my face couldn’t be photographed. But, this was by my own request (and not because management told us to). I just wanted time to be with Zayn and the boys without having my face plastered across the Internet.
“It’s hard to keep us a secret,” Zayn had said to me right before they left.
“Just for the sake of you and me, keep it a secret for now,” I had begged him.
He agreed, and instead of coming right out and saying it, Zayn resorted to his mysterious ways and began tweeting vague messages that drove the fans crazy. Their misery was my entertainment. Not saying that I was enjoying seeing them cry about Zayn’s tweet. I’m not a heartless person. But, it was certainly more interesting to read their theories than to listen to my professor’s theories. My favorite ones were the ones that expressed deep concern for Liam. (ZIAM! <3)
As I scrolled through the pages of distressed fans, I found that the ones that disturbed me the most were the ones that said that Zayn hadn’t outwardly said anything about being in a relationship. (Although, the ones that brought up the infamous London club picture with the words “I HOPE TO GOD THAT HE’S NOT BACK WITH THIS SLUT” were a close second.) But, really, the fans that were confused were the ones who concerned me the most.
I mean, yeah. I had asked him to keep us a secret so that’s why he was being vague with the fans. But what about with me? He hadn’t told me what “us” meant. We couldn’t possibly be in a committed relationship already? We were just casually dating, right?
I guess the fans’ confusion brought out my own confusions, and therefore, my own insecurities.
- - - - -
“So boys, Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. Any plans?” the interviewer asked.
“I’ll be honest,” Zayn chimed in and looked straight at the camera lens, “I’m really excited for this Valentine’s Day. I won’t go into specifics, but I know it’ll be great.”
- - - - -
On February 13, 2013, I came home from my only class of the day and checked the mail. A few bills for my parents, random catalogs, and lastly a manila envelope addressed to me. I found the letter opener and tore the envelope open and out fell an airplane ticket and a handwritten note.
Dear Keiko,
I hope you like Greek food!
x x x Zayn
Wait, what? I’m going to Greece?
”Where are yooou? x x – Zayn”
My eyes flew to the clock on the wall behind my professor, and my heart sank a little when I realized that I had another gruesome thirty minutes of a riveting lecture (note the sarcasm) before I could see the light of day. I looked around at my other classmates and was reassured that mostly everyone looked to be about as bored as I felt. I looked back down at my phone and typed in the message: ”In class. Dying a slow painful death. – Keiko”
“Please don’t die. Meet us at the studio instead! x x – Zayn”
I glanced up at the clock again and, upon seeing that there was still twenty-nine long minutes of class, packed up my belongings. As the professor tried to crack a joke to revive the class, I slipped out the back of the lecture hall and hurried towards the parking lot.
- - - - -
The studio was an intimidating place to be. The urban-cool-artsyfartsy music producers sitting behind a massive board of buttons, bobbing their heads and whispering music jargon and the display of high-end recording equipment made me feel like I wasn’t worthy to be in their presence. I sat wide-eyed and quiet on the leather couch, feeling slightly uncomfortable. From inside the booth, Zayn kept sneaking peeks at me and making quirky little faces, helping me to relax a little.
The producers ended their conversation and turned to address the boys, “Ok, we’re going to do another take of the chorus. Remember this song is about being in love; so let us really feel and hear the emotion. Got it?”
Like little schoolboys, they nodded their heads in unison and the music began to play. I’m not going to lie; I was pretty stoked about the simple invitation to listen in on One Direction recording their next album. But, my level of excitement reached an extraordinary level when the boys opened their mouth to sing. The smooth mix of their voices sent chills throughout my body. I made a mental note to myself to bow down to Simon Cowell if I ever had the chance to meet him. He certainly knew what he was doing when he put these five young men together.
When the boys closed their mouths, I had to physically stop myself from giving them a standing ovation. Unfortunately, I was the only one who felt that way. Both producers let out a sigh of exasperation, exchanging glances and throwing up their hands in defeat.
“Ok, that wasn’t quite right,” one of them said.
The other looked back at me, “Which one of them are you dating?”
I stared back at him, stuttering, “I, I, I’m not dating any of them. Sorry.
He took off his sunglasses and scooted closer towards me, scrutinizing me he asked, “Then why are you here?”
I swallowed hard, scared that he was going to throw me out, “Well Zayn ask-“
“There you go!” He cut me off, “Go give your precious little Zayn a peck on the cheek so he can sing like he’s in love.” He motioned his hands for me to enter the booth.
I mouthed a “what?” But, the producer egged me on, “Go on. Get in there.”
Awkwardly, I stood up and shuffled over to the door leading into the booth. I looked back at the two producers and they gave me the thumbs up to go on in. When I opened the door, all five of the boys looked in my direction.
“Er,” I looked at them, embarrassed I began to speak, “I just need to…”
I couldn’t think of how to explain myself, so I shut my mouth, marched on in, gave Zayn a quick kiss, and marched back out, hearing the boys whistle and tease Zayn.
Within seconds, the room filled with the same ballad the boys’ harmonies. Again, I felt chills listening to their raw voices. When the take was over, I anxiously awaited the reaction of the music producers. After a brief moment of silence, the two erupted in applause.
“Amazing!” said the one on the left.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” exclaimed the other.
They looked at me and then back at the boys, “Make sure to bring her every time you record a love song.”
- - - - -
My professor droned on again. Except this time, I had no escape route because the boys were back in London. I spent a good amount of time in the last few days before they flew back home. Most of the time, however, was spent in private places where my face couldn’t be photographed. But, this was by my own request (and not because management told us to). I just wanted time to be with Zayn and the boys without having my face plastered across the Internet.
“It’s hard to keep us a secret,” Zayn had said to me right before they left.
“Just for the sake of you and me, keep it a secret for now,” I had begged him.
He agreed, and instead of coming right out and saying it, Zayn resorted to his mysterious ways and began tweeting vague messages that drove the fans crazy. Their misery was my entertainment. Not saying that I was enjoying seeing them cry about Zayn’s tweet. I’m not a heartless person. But, it was certainly more interesting to read their theories than to listen to my professor’s theories. My favorite ones were the ones that expressed deep concern for Liam. (ZIAM! <3)
As I scrolled through the pages of distressed fans, I found that the ones that disturbed me the most were the ones that said that Zayn hadn’t outwardly said anything about being in a relationship. (Although, the ones that brought up the infamous London club picture with the words “I HOPE TO GOD THAT HE’S NOT BACK WITH THIS SLUT” were a close second.) But, really, the fans that were confused were the ones who concerned me the most.
I mean, yeah. I had asked him to keep us a secret so that’s why he was being vague with the fans. But what about with me? He hadn’t told me what “us” meant. We couldn’t possibly be in a committed relationship already? We were just casually dating, right?
I guess the fans’ confusion brought out my own confusions, and therefore, my own insecurities.
- - - - -
“So boys, Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. Any plans?” the interviewer asked.
“I’ll be honest,” Zayn chimed in and looked straight at the camera lens, “I’m really excited for this Valentine’s Day. I won’t go into specifics, but I know it’ll be great.”
- - - - -
On February 13, 2013, I came home from my only class of the day and checked the mail. A few bills for my parents, random catalogs, and lastly a manila envelope addressed to me. I found the letter opener and tore the envelope open and out fell an airplane ticket and a handwritten note.
Dear Keiko,
I hope you like Greek food!
x x x Zayn
Wait, what? I’m going to Greece?
♠ ♠ ♠
Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'd just like to say thanks to all who are reading this, subscribing to it, and commenting. Your feedback does not go unnoticed! (:With that said, I was wondering how many of you actually look at the outfits I put together for Keiko? Because if not a lot of you look at it, I'm going to just stop doing it. Let me know if you want to save Keiko's outfits! (:
I made her an outfit for this chapter though. Click here to see it!
P.S. I was curious to see what Zayn's handwriting looks like so I googled it. He has such nice penmanship. Is it weird that I really like his handwriting? LOL.