For Fair Love
eleven
I’ve been biting my lip too hard. It’s become sensitive. I’m sitting in a room all by myself and I can’t help but figure out how I got here. I pinch the skin on my chin. I was soon excluded from the meeting. Then I hear mumbling in the corridor. So I get on my feet and poke my head through the door. A blonde boy laughs, two other brown heads, and… Zayn!
“Zayn!” I let his name escape.
He looks up, so does the other boys. I finally recognize them all. They are the life size version of Lily’s poster in her room. I wish she were here with me. At least she’d be able to act normal.
“Chas?”
“Hello,” I say.
“Chas, what are you doing here?” Zayn approaches me by the door.
I violently shrug my shoulders, “I don’t really know…”
I watch Zayn grin at me. It gets me thinking too much.
“I do, actually. I haven’t’ seen you in a while,” he says, smiling.
I nervously smile back.
“You remember me then…”
“How can I forget the girl who beat me at football?”
His voice was warm. I lean into the doorframe, trying to disappear in it. It was nice that he finally admitted it. Before the silence between us gets stroppy, he looks back to his mates and introduces me. They all say their quick hellos and so do I.
“I guess I’ll see you later,” Zayn says following his mates.
I smile and wave. They leave the hall and I watch them go. I watch Zayn go… and the way his hair falls and his hands shuffle by his sides. I blow a slow breath I’ve been keeping in too long.
“What?” I shout.
“Do I really have to repeat myself?” Karen folds her arms.
The lady doing my makeup scowls, as I never keep still. There are bright lights on, blinding me. My hair is pulled back so tightly that I can’t feel my brows. She wipes my eye will a wet cloth and reapplies eyeliner for the third time. Karen looks at me.
“Please! Because I clearly misheard you!” I argue.
“You’ll be living with Harry.”
“No, I’m not,” I say after she confirms what I heard.
“We’re not doing this again,” Karen says and points her authoritative finger at me.
“You’ve dragged me all the way here. Isn’t that enough?”
“Even if you could afford your own flat, you are still required to live with Harry. How else are you supposed to grow fond of him?” she says.
“I’m not growing fond with anybody,” I say.
Karen laughs at my pride, “Naturally, you must fancy Harry.”
“Can I ask why you believe that? Because I don’t, naturally.”
The makeup artist starts poking me with a mascara brush.
“Hm. I have to say, you are quite witty. I don’t think he’ll like that,” Karen laughs delightfully at me as she scrolls through her phone.
A blush brush attacks me.
“Stop frowning your face, dear,” the lady tells me.
I try my best to keep my face smooth, but it’s too hard when soft things touch my cheeks.
“Alright, it’s almost five o’clock,” Karen tells us, “Time to go.”
The makeup artist finishes up and I finally relax.
“You’re lucky you have such an even tone,” she tells me, complimenting my looks. I awkwardly thank her and I jump out the chair, pulling down the skirt they have me wear. The clothes are quite fitting and feminine. I’m used to my jumpers and my sport shorts. My fingers play with my spiralled ponytail that falls to my back. I follow Karen as she tells me the do’s and don’ts.
“Don’t be rash. Always keep a smile on. Don’t answer the paparazzi,” Karen goes on.
My feet feel foreign in these high heels.
“Remember this will have a spread in every magazine. Don’t mess up too much. Don’t slouch. Don’t frown.”
I pause, “What is it I’m doing exactly?”
“Chas! Are you joking?” Karen exasperates, “Date, date, date! Car’s waiting outside, hurry.”
She pushes me out the door and I’m ushered by a driver into a shiny black car. I’m already breaking Karen’s rules. I’m slouching, I’m frowning, and I’m not smiling. I can’t hate this any more than I already do.
“Zayn!” I let his name escape.
He looks up, so does the other boys. I finally recognize them all. They are the life size version of Lily’s poster in her room. I wish she were here with me. At least she’d be able to act normal.
“Chas?”
“Hello,” I say.
“Chas, what are you doing here?” Zayn approaches me by the door.
I violently shrug my shoulders, “I don’t really know…”
I watch Zayn grin at me. It gets me thinking too much.
“I do, actually. I haven’t’ seen you in a while,” he says, smiling.
I nervously smile back.
“You remember me then…”
“How can I forget the girl who beat me at football?”
His voice was warm. I lean into the doorframe, trying to disappear in it. It was nice that he finally admitted it. Before the silence between us gets stroppy, he looks back to his mates and introduces me. They all say their quick hellos and so do I.
“I guess I’ll see you later,” Zayn says following his mates.
I smile and wave. They leave the hall and I watch them go. I watch Zayn go… and the way his hair falls and his hands shuffle by his sides. I blow a slow breath I’ve been keeping in too long.
“What?” I shout.
“Do I really have to repeat myself?” Karen folds her arms.
The lady doing my makeup scowls, as I never keep still. There are bright lights on, blinding me. My hair is pulled back so tightly that I can’t feel my brows. She wipes my eye will a wet cloth and reapplies eyeliner for the third time. Karen looks at me.
“Please! Because I clearly misheard you!” I argue.
“You’ll be living with Harry.”
“No, I’m not,” I say after she confirms what I heard.
“We’re not doing this again,” Karen says and points her authoritative finger at me.
“You’ve dragged me all the way here. Isn’t that enough?”
“Even if you could afford your own flat, you are still required to live with Harry. How else are you supposed to grow fond of him?” she says.
“I’m not growing fond with anybody,” I say.
Karen laughs at my pride, “Naturally, you must fancy Harry.”
“Can I ask why you believe that? Because I don’t, naturally.”
The makeup artist starts poking me with a mascara brush.
“Hm. I have to say, you are quite witty. I don’t think he’ll like that,” Karen laughs delightfully at me as she scrolls through her phone.
A blush brush attacks me.
“Stop frowning your face, dear,” the lady tells me.
I try my best to keep my face smooth, but it’s too hard when soft things touch my cheeks.
“Alright, it’s almost five o’clock,” Karen tells us, “Time to go.”
The makeup artist finishes up and I finally relax.
“You’re lucky you have such an even tone,” she tells me, complimenting my looks. I awkwardly thank her and I jump out the chair, pulling down the skirt they have me wear. The clothes are quite fitting and feminine. I’m used to my jumpers and my sport shorts. My fingers play with my spiralled ponytail that falls to my back. I follow Karen as she tells me the do’s and don’ts.
“Don’t be rash. Always keep a smile on. Don’t answer the paparazzi,” Karen goes on.
My feet feel foreign in these high heels.
“Remember this will have a spread in every magazine. Don’t mess up too much. Don’t slouch. Don’t frown.”
I pause, “What is it I’m doing exactly?”
“Chas! Are you joking?” Karen exasperates, “Date, date, date! Car’s waiting outside, hurry.”
She pushes me out the door and I’m ushered by a driver into a shiny black car. I’m already breaking Karen’s rules. I’m slouching, I’m frowning, and I’m not smiling. I can’t hate this any more than I already do.