Under My Skin

Brooklyn has just finished blow-drying her hair when she hears noises coming from her kitchen. If she were still living alone like she did a few months back, she would have immediately reached for the bat that she keeps under her bed for safety purposes before she leaves her room. But since her twin brother, Beck, moves in with her after he broke up with his girlfriend, she knows that it’s him who’s making the noises right now.

Taking one last look at the mirror, she lets out a sigh and makes her way to the kitchen where, unsurprisingly, she finds Beck pouring a freshly brewed coffee into a cup. But it isn’t just any cup. It’s her favourite cup – the one she got for Christmas two years ago.

“What’re you doing?” Brooklyn asks as she opens the cabinet and takes out a cereal box. Beck jumps slightly at the sound of her voice, but he immediately plasters a smile across his face.

“Good morning,” he grins, pretending as though he hasn't heard her question.

“Morning,” she replies before repeating herself, “What’re you doing?”

“Making coffee for you,” he replies. He hands Brooklyn her yellow mug that has a painting of a small bee on the middle, to which she accepts hesitantly. He watches her face to gauge her reaction and gets slightly offended when she only stares at the brown coloured liquid in the mug instead of drinking it. “Don’t look so shocked. I’ve worked at a coffee shop before, ‘member?”

She does remember him working at a coffee shop briefly during their first year of university because she took full advantage of that every single day. She remembers going to that café before or after or sometimes before and after her class to get coffee at a slightly cheaper price because Beck’s the one who made it.

Still, that doesn’t explain why he’s making her coffee. This isn’t the Beck she knows and grows with. He doesn't wake up early in the morning just to make coffee for her or anyone, really. He loves his sleep more than anything.

So, curious, Brooklyn kinks an eyebrow at him. “Not to sound ungrateful, but what’s this for?”

“Everything, I guess.” He answers with a shrug. He moves to pouring cereal and milk into the two bowls that he’s taken out from the cabinet, avoiding eye contact for a moment. Brooklyn waits for him to explain and after having shoved a spoonful of cereal, he finally says, “For dealing with me after, you know, and for letting me stay here and not kicking me out.”

“That’s what families do,” she says. Despite how irritating Beck can be or how unconventional it is to live with him, Brooklyn realises that she’d do anything for him. Even if it means letting him live with her indefinitely.

That statement, however, earns her a scoff from Beck, who then shakes his head. “I doubt Oliver would let me crash at his place.”

Beck’s right. Their older brother, Oliver, wouldn't easily let anyone crash at his place. “Well, Oli does love his privacy.”

“Too much,” Beck mutters with a roll of his eyes. Unlike Oliver, Beck doesn't particularly enjoy being alone. “Remember when he wouldn't let us come near his room?”

“Us?” Brooklyn repeats. She doesn't remember Oliver ever telling her that she couldn't come near his room. In fact, she spent a lot of times in his room back then, going through his vinyl collection and listening to them with her brother – or alone when he’s not around. “I’m pretty sure that rules only applies to you.”

“That’s unfair,” he remarks, brows furrowing. “I knew it: he loves you more.”

Brookyln nudges him in the shoulder and grins. “Hey, what can I say? I’m very lovable.”

Beck rolls his eyes, again, whilst Brooklyn brings the cup up to her mouth and takes a sip of the coffee that Beck has so kindly made for her. But as soon as the taste hits her tongue, she starts coughing. Coffee sprays out of her mouth, dripping down her chin and tainting her blouse that she’s ironed last night. She puts down the cup immediately and grabs the tissue that Beck has handed to her.

“What the hell did you put in my coffee?” Brooklyn asks as she dabs at the stain over and over again. It is when her twin tries to help her that she realises it’s pointless; in fact, they’re just wasting their time. It’s not easy to get rid of a coffee stain, which means she’ll have to change her clothes and she needs to change fast if she doesn't want to be late to work.

“Uh, coffee and sug-“ he stops himself from finishing the sentence. His eyes widen and Brooklyn knows straightaway that Beck has put something he shouldn't have in her coffee. “Shit, Bee, I think I might’ve put salt in your coffee.”

Brooklyn looks up, her eyes twice as wide, and shrieks, “What the hell, Beck?”

“I’m sorry!” He apologises, throwing his hands up before he runs his fingers through his hair. A frustrated sigh escapes his mouth as he racks his mind for an explanation. “They look similar!”

“No they don’t!” She argues back, clearly taken aback by his statement. Sugar and salt do not look alike – how can someone say that?

Beck picks up both sugar and salt that Brooklyn has so conveniently put side to side, and wave them around in front of her face. “Yeah, they do!”

Brooklyn glares at her twin, not wanting to waste any more time arguing with him. Especially not when she has to get changed. So, without saying another word, she storms out of the kitchen whilst pretending she doesn't hear a string of apologies following her to her bedroom.

God, maybe she needs to reconsider her decision to let him stay here.



Brooklyn doesn't know which one is more shocking: the fact that Niall arrives to work earlier than she does or the fact that he’s sitting at his desk and not bothering anyone at all. Maybe both are equally shocking because those two things are something he hardly does.

“Wow, you’re early,” she remarks coolly – she’s a bit, okay maybe a lot, bothered by the fact that he’s early, but she’s not going to let him know that – as she puts down her cup of coffee on her desk and takes off her jacket.

Niall looks up and a smirk touches his lips. “You’re late,” he replies, clicking his tongue and shaking his head disapprovingly.

Although Brooklyn knows it’s not possible that she’s late because she power-walked from the tube station to here, she still takes a quick look at her wristwatch. She’s right on time. Not early, but good enough.

“I’m not late.” She responds, though if she is, she could blame Beck for this. If he didn't make that horrid coffee for her, she would’ve been able to come to work early – earlier than Niall.

Niall disregards her last comment. Instead, he leans forward and grins, “So, why’re you late?”

“Shut up. I’m not late,” she tells him whilst she rubs her temple. She hates that word and she hates Niall. See, less than five minutes with him and she’s already had headache. “I can’t believe I have to deal with your annoying arse longer today.”

At that, Niall lets out a chuckle, the office reverberating with his laughter. He doesn't say anything else, though which makes Brooklyn believes that maybe he’s done pestering her. That is, until her enemy #2 arrives.

“Good morning, everyone!” Harry exclaims – too lively and too cheerful, in Brooklyn’s opinion.

“Hey, morning, Harry.” Niall is the only one who replies as everyone else is focusing on their work and frankly, Brooklyn thinks everyone is not in a good mood – it’s Monday morning for God’s sake. Niall waves his friend over to his desk and asks, “Wanna know something?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods immediately as curiosity takes over his feature. “’Course.”

When Niall shoots her a sideway glance, lips pulled into a grin, she has a feeling she knows what he’s going to say. “Brooklyn’s late.” Aaaand she’s right.

Harry whips his head so fast that Brooklyn fears he might break his neck – not that she cares about that. With his jaw hanging open, he asks, “You’re pregnant?” He sounds way too excited. And she’s pretty sure she sees his green eyes twinkling with happiness. It’s weird. “Is Niall the father?”

“What?” Both Brooklyn and Niall screech at the same time, mortified by the thought that Harry has planted in their minds. “No!”

“God, no!” Brooklyn shakes her head again and again as if to clear the thought from her mind. Despite that, colours spread across her cheeks and she picks up her coffee, hiding her face behind the cup – it’s quite pointless, really, but she’d like to believe that at least neither Harry and Niall could see her flushed face.

Harry simply shrugs as if to say ‘well, too bad’. One day, Brooklyn will figure out how his mind works or maybe not.

Niall glances at her before he says to Harry, “When I said Brooklyn’s late it means that she came to work late. God, why’d you think she’s pregnant?” Harry shrugs again. Niall shakes his head. If Niall can’t figure out how his best friend’s mind works, then maybe no one will.

“I was on time,” she groans, to which Niall disagrees with a shake of his head. He’s never going to let this die, isn’t he? Screw Beck and his awful coffee.

“As you’ve said before: on time is never good enough,” Niall snickers. Brooklyn shoots him a glare – one that she hopes to God could hurt him. How dare he use her words against her?

“Also,” Brooklyn looks at Harry and squints her eyes, “Why’d you think that I’m pregnant?”

“Can’t blame me.” He replies matter-of-factly. “You’ve been wearing black a lot.”

“What does that have to do with me being pregnant?” She asks, still confused. No one has ever assumed that she’s pregnant because she wears black.

“Dunno,” he shrugs. Brooklyn rolls her eyes because she knows that’s not the answer he wants to give. So she continues to look at him until eventually he breaks. “Okay fine. I thought that maybe you’re trying to hide your belly or summat. See, you’re wearing black today.”

Instinctively, Brooklyn looks down to see what she’s wearing and she finds that Harry’s right – she wouldn't be wearing black today if it weren’t because of the coffee that spilled down her blouse. Still. “Well, black’s my favourite colour.”

“S’it cos it’s the colour of your soul?” Niall chimes in, emitting laughter from his best friend/fan.

“Shut up,” Brooklyn throws a pen at him. She turns to Harry again. “Another question: why on earth would you think Niall’s the father?” She doesn't know why she feels the need to ask that question, but since she’s voiced it out, she might as well hear what Harry has to say.

From the corner of her eye, Brooklyn can see Niall glaring at Harry. Weird.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Harry replies, stuttering a little. “Forget I said that, yeah?” Then, before Brooklyn has the opportunity to say anything else, he quickly tells her that he needs to get started on his article and leaves their desk.

Brooklyn looks at Niall, wanting to ask him if he knows what’s wrong with Harry and sees that he’s got his eyes fixed on the screen of his computer. She has a feeling that he’s avoiding her – she doesn't know why – so she decides to switch on her computer instead.

Last night whilst watching a movie, an idea came into her mind. Coupled with her past experiences, she’s decided to write an online article called ‘Guys can’t accept it when their flaws are being pointed out – Why?’

As soon as the idea pops into her mind, she knows that she has to write it. Besides, she’s quite certain that there are girls out there who want to know the same thing as she does. She’s so excited to write it; she’s even told Beck that she wants to interview some of his friends later as she needs their opinions in order for her to write this article.

Writing for the relationship column is difficult considering that she’s not exactly lucky when it comes to romance. It’s almost as if her work life wants to mock her non-existence love life by thrusting her a job that requires her to write about the one thing that she doesn't have time for. But she likes a challenge so she’s not going to complain.

“Niall,” their editor-in-chief addresses as he makes his way towards their table – Brooklyn sits up straighter as soon as she hears his voice and catches him from the corner of her eyes – with a piece of paper in hand. Waving it around, a huge smile touches his lips. “This is a great article – not that I’m surprised. Well done.”

Niall gives Brooklyn a sideway glance, winking when she looks at him with confusion written all over her face. As far as she’s concerned they don’t have to submit any article – not until the end of this week.

“Thank you,” he says rather humbly. He even bows his head a little. Brooklyn almost rolls her eyes but since Mr Storm is standing near her desk, she refrains herself.

“Keep this up and you might just get featured in the special issue,” Dean mentions – she’s pretty sure she sees him dropping his left eye at Niall – as he squeezes Niall’s shoulder. At the mention of special issue, Brooklyn’s breath gets hitched in her throat. Funny how two simple words are able to hold such power on her.

“Again, thank you, Dean.” Niall smiles, his cheeks getting warmer now. Dean pats his back twice and returns to his office room.

As soon as he’s out of their sights, Brooklyn slumps her shoulders forward. Niall kinks an eyebrow at her, to which she ignores. For some reasons, she feels betrayed and it’s not only because he’s submitted an article behind her back but also because it seems as if Niall has formed a bond with their editor-in-chief. How’s that possible?

“First name basis, huh?” Brooklyn tries to make it sound as if she’s not jealous at all when it is quite the opposite. She hates that the littlest thing matters to her, but hard as she tried, she can’t change that about her. “Since when?”

“Since we go to the pub every Friday night,” he divulges. He sounds so smug and that just further annoys Brooklyn.

“What?” She frowns. “How’d I not know about this?”

“Let me guess,” he puts on his thinking face as he taps his chin a few times. Eventually, he leans forward and says, “Because you’re boring.”

“I’m not boring.” God, how many times does she have to tell him this? Honestly, she thinks she’s beginning to sound like a broken record. Niall gives her a pointed look as if to say ‘C’mon Cooper, you know that’s not true’ and she lets out a huff, deciding to change the subject instead. “So, what’s that all about?”

“That’s me one step away from winning our bet.” He’s so confident, maybe for all the right reasons.

“C’mon.” She rolls her eyes.

“I wrote an article few nights ago and I emailed it to him,” he admits with a shrug like it’s no big deal that he did that. “Needed to know what he thinks about it and all that.”

“What’s it about?” Brooklyn asks before she can stop herself. Niall always has interesting topics to talk about and she thinks it has something to do with the fact that he loves music as much as he loves making bets, which she believes helps him tremendously. He’s lucky that he gets to write for the music column, but she has never let him know that. It’ll only inflate his ego.

“Curious, aren’t you?” He raises an eyebrow at her. She gives him an unamused look. He laughs. “Anyway, it’s about the new record store I found the other day.”

She knows it’s more than that. There’s something about Niall’s articles that makes people enjoy reading it. He could be given a task to write a boring topic but he can somehow make it interesting. Again, Brooklyn would never let him know that.

“What’re you writing about this week?” He asks.

Before Brooklyn can tell him that it’s none of his business, he moves his chair to her desk, pushing her aside so he can take a look at the screen of her computer.

“Guys can’t accept it when their flaws are being pointed out?” He repeats, sounding slightly offended. Good. That’s exactly what Brooklyn is aiming for: to offend guys. Besides, if the shoe fits… Niall looks at her. “This sounds like a good article but the title-“ he stops himself to shake his head. Then, he grabs the keyboard and pulls it closer to him. He begins typing something and with a heavy heart, Brooklyn watches as he erases what she’s written. Granted, she’s only written the title but still.

‘Here’s why your partner can’t accept it when you point out their flaws.’

Brooklyn reads what Niall has written on a blank document again and again, trying to figure out how is it possible that it sounds so much better than her previous title.

For the first few seconds, she feels anger growing inside of her, but as soon as it dissipates, ideas after ideas start brewing in her head. Now her target audience has broadened. She can interview not only Beck’s male friends, she can also interview a few of his female friends – she’s met them before so she’s sure they wouldn't mind being interviewed. That way, she’ll be able to get point of views from both sides, making it unbiased.

She can feel Niall’s eyes on the side of her face, waiting for her to say something. It pains her to agree with Niall but after taking a deep breath, she turns to him and pulls her lips into a smile. “Thank you.” She says and he grins. “I still hate you for saying I’m late and boring, though.”

“Haters gonna hate,” he sings, giving her finger guns as he rolls away from her desk and back to his.

Brooklyn picks up her coffee and downs it within seconds. She has a feeling she’ll need another cup soon.



“Hey Cooper, d’you wanna go to the pub with us?” Niall asks. Brooklyn, who’s in the middle of clearing up her desk, looks up and kinks an eyebrow. She must be hearing things. It can’t be true that he’s just asked her to go to the pub with him and, she guesses, Harry when he says ‘us.’ “Dean-“

“Mr Storm.” She corrects him.

He rolls his eyes. “Dean won’t be there if that’s what you’re wondering,” he continues what he’s going to say before he’s interrupted.

“Then why’d you ask me to go to the pub?” She questions, getting confused now. She knows that Niall and Harry always go to the pub after work, but she’s never invited – not that she wants to spend her evening there with them because she’s got other things to do – and she doesn't care about that.

Niall looks stumped for a moment. “Dunno, maybe you could prove to me that you’re not boring?” She knows he’s just made that up because he sounds hesitant as he says that. Wow, she realises, she’s known him long enough to be able to know that he’s made that up.

“Do I really have to prove that to you?” She asks, rhetorically, before she adds, “I know for a fact that I’m not boring.”

At that, the confidence returns. “Let me guess, you don’t wanna go to the pub because you want to go home, order that Thai food from the place that you love so much and sit in front of the telly while you eat after you’ve taken a bath.”

Brooklyn’s eyes widen slightly. He’s just described her carefully planned evening within ten seconds. What surprises her even more is that now that she’s heard it out loud, she wonders if Niall’s right.

It pains her each time she has to admit that he’s right – even to herself.

With a sigh, she gets up from her chair and says, “Fine. I’ll go to the pub with you and Harry.”

Niall’s face lights up as he puts on his jacket. Harry makes his way to them a few seconds later, a huge smile splitting his face in two when he notices that Brooklyn is joining them.

“Finally got the guts, huh?” Harry whispers to Niall, though it can’t really be considered as a whisper since Brooklyn can hear him.

Niall immediately nudges his friend with his elbow, a frown forming between his brows. He glances at Brooklyn, who then pretends as though she hears nothing as she buttons her coat, and returns his gaze to his friend. Harry whispers his apologies but again, Brooklyn can hear him. He’s terrible at it.

Good thing Harry doesn't whisper anything anymore after that. Probably because there’s a bruise on his rib now from the dig he got from Niall.

As they walk to the pub – it’s only seven minutes away – Brooklyn can’t help but think about what Harry’s just said. Finally got the guts? What does that even mean? Niall finally has the guts for what?

“Brooklyn?” Harry calls out her name, breaking her train of thoughts.

She lifts her head up and looks at him. “Hmm?”

“Are you okay?” Harry asks. There’s a hint of a smile on the edges of her mouth and she wonders if he hears her thoughts. She hopes not.

“Yeah,” she answers with a nod.

“She’s just scared that she won’t be able to prove me wrong,” Niall intervenes, to which Harry quirks an eyebrow at the both of them. “I told her that she’s boring.”

“Oh,” Harry responds. “So it’s a bet, then?”

“No,” Brooklyn answers at the same time Niall says, “Yes.”

“No or yes?” He quizzes before he quickly adds, “You know what? Never mind. I’m just happy that you two are here.”

A few seconds later, the three of them walk into the pub – it takes them nine minutes to get here instead of seven – and Harry immediately claims the seat at the bar. Niall occupies the stool next to his friend, leaving Brooklyn with no other option than to sit next to him because there’s no empty seat beside Harry. He must’ve planned this.

It doesn't take Niall and Harry long to grab the attention of the bartender. They’re both familiar faces to the man – his name’s Greg – so they sort of get the special treatment. At least that’s what Harry says. Brooklyn believes him when pints of beer arrive in front of them less than a minute later.

“Cheers,” Harry clinks his glass with Niall’s and Brooklyn’s before he takes a gulp of the beer. Niall and Brooklyn follow suit.

If anyone were to tell her that one day she’d be spending her evening at a pub with her enemy #1 and #2, she’d laugh at that person’s face. Alas, here she is.

Brooklyn takes out her mobile phone to text Beck, but before she can compose a message, Niall plucks the device from her grip. She frowns. “What-“

“We put away our phones in here,” he explains. He puts Brooklyn’s mobile phone away, out of her reach. She groans.

“That’s stupid,” Brooklyn replies. What if there’s an emergency?

Niall shakes his head. “It’s genius,” he counters. “It allows us to communicate.”

“Yeah, Niall’s right.” Harry chimes in. Brooklyn rolls her eyes. One day, she’ll get Harry to disagree with something Niall says.

“But I need to text Beck.”

“Beck?” Niall raises an eyebrow.

“Her brother.” Again, Harry chimes in as he nudges Niall’s shoulder.

“My twin brother,” she corrects him.

Realisation hits Niall afterwards. “Oh, Beck.”

“Yeah, so can you give me my phone back?” She asks, growing impatient now. Her mobile phone is still unlocked and she fears that he might go through it. She’s learned not to trust anyone when it comes to this matter.

“How’s he doing?” Niall asks, curious. He and Beck have met once, and as much as Brooklyn hates it, they got along with each other well. She feels betrayed, truly, because her twin brother is supposed to be on her side. Not him.

“He’s okay,” Brooklyn replies as she tries to reach for her phone, but before she can do so, Niall takes it and hides it behind his back. She lets out a huff. “What do you want?”

“He wants a kiss,” Harry answers instead. He wriggles his eyebrows as he says that.

Meanwhile, Niall’s cheeks turn bright red and his eyes widen. Quickly, however, he turns to Harry and elbows him – again. “No. God, Harry what the hell’s wrong with you?” Brooklyn wants to ask the same question but she decides not to.

“Dunno,” he says. “Just thought it’d be fun.”

“Fun?” Brooklyn repeats his word, her voice slightly pitchier than usual. Harry shrugs.

Something’s obviously wrong with Harry today, or maybe he knows something she doesn't know. Either way, he’s starting to freak her out. And Niall too, it seems, because he’s returned her mobile phone without saying anything. He continues to drink in silence and when he’s finished his beer, he asks for another one.

Brooklyn struggles to finish hers, but she does it anyway so it'll give her an excuse to leave.

When she’s out of the pub, she sees Niall elbowing Harry again and she wonders what is it that he says this time that earns him another pain on the rib.