Destiny Brought Us Together * Zayn Malik Fanfic *

Stacie in London

A Zayn Javaad Malik Fanfic

 

Stacy speaking

 

It all started when :

 

            I got off from the plane and feel in love withLondon’s one-of-a-kind beauty. Its cold breeze brushed around my face and I felt like I wanted to stay here. Live my life here and have our kids…

            “Hey! We’re late Stace! Stop daydreaming in there!”

My friend/co-model/punching bag/listener/adviser (I guess everything), Gwen. I looked straight at her and was scared at how she looked at me. I know that “look” and was pulled back to reality. We’re not here for a classy vacation but for work (sigh). As a matter of fact, we’re totally late for our photo shoot.

            “Oh, sorry. Come on!” I shouted cause she was a distance from me.

            “Where exactly are you going?!” she screamed back at me with that “look” still pasted on her face.

            “To our photo shoot. Where’d you think?” she walked towards me, limping with all the luggages she’s bringing.

            “Whoah! You talk like you knew the place huh?”

            And I flashed a confused look. Yeah, I don’t know a single place here in Londonbut I got an aunt who lived here for her entire life. She worked as a nurse and met the “guy”, they got married and had kids. Maybe I can check on her after our photoshoot. Yeah! The photoshoot!

            “Oh! I thought it’s this way.” I pointed to the direction I’m supposed to take with British people busy passing by.

            Gwen sighed and pulled me by the hand. She walked to the opposite direction and nagged at me. But I didn’t listen. (Hehe)

            “It’s this way, Jhoan Stacie Gorre! And we’re totally late. Bessie called me for million times and said that if we wont be there after half an hour, our British fantasy is O-V-E-R. That means we’re dead! So LEGGO!”

           

IRISH people were a beauty. It’s not everyday that you can see handsome and beautiful Filipinos walking in the street in the Philippines. So I tried to flash a friendly smile but I guess a smile is foreign to them ‘cause no one even paid to smile back at me. But I understand them. They were all hustling (maybe) to go to work or whatever. Hey! Smile is the universal language! I thought.

            We stopped at a very tall, fifteen floored building. Whoah! This will be the first time I’m going to have a photo shoot on a studio. I bet Gwen already did, for a countless times, for sure.

            Gwen had been an FA graduate before she entered the world of modeling. She just got bombed with her job travelling all over the world (I know, I can’t believe it, as well. Who, with the right mind will ever get bombed travelling?) So she got herself a sideline on a Modeling Agency inFranceand got tons of projects just after a month (not surprising).

            Gwen is skinny and five feet and eight inches tall but I’m an inch taller than her but not that skinny compared to her though. She got long black straight hair. Her eyes were as dark as her eyes while mine was short brunette cut. She had her Pop’s Spanish dark features, so to make the story short, she’s a definite beauty.

            “Studio 7, Studio 7, where are ya?”

            And we walked through countless of studios..and..

            “Donde es Studio numero siete?” Now Gwen is using her Spanish, which she only does when she’s starting to lose her temper (uh-oh!).

            As if on cue, we found the right studio and we were just about to open the door when Bessie, our endless nagger manager widened her eyes and pulled us inside. Oh thank God! No endless nag session for the day! *relieved*

            “Dress up now and you two are next.”

            Gwen glanced at me and flinched. “Okay we’ll hurry up. We really need a retouch right Stace?”

            “Yeah..yep! We’re ready.”

            “No we’re not. Follow me to the dressing room Stacie.” And I followed her.

            As soon as we were inside the room, I stared at the mirror and was horrified to discover that my other pair of diamond earring was not in my left ear.

            “Oh my God! Where’s my earring? God!” I fumbled to my bag and my luggages.

            “Try to look for it down there or in your pockets.” Gwen advised. But I knew it’s nowhere to be found because I wore it even before we got off from the plane. Maybe because of “HARRYING”, I wasn’t able to lock it tightly in my ear.

            “Three more minutes and you’re on, girls. Mr. Gibotti doesn’t have all the time in the world.” Bessie entered the room.

            Oh god! What am I going to do?! That earring is from my Abuela!