Where Have You Been

Chapter 1

Hey guys! This is my first fanfiction and I wrote it over the summer but I am posting it now! I really hope you like it and it would be a lot if you could vote for it and favorite it! Please comment to let me know what you think!  

Zoë’s’ POV

My chest contracted, hit with the sharp force of the icy air around me. I blinked off the snow that was already beginning to dot my eyelashes. Each flake drifted down gracefully, like tiny diamonds, incandescent in the brilliant sun. I sighed audibly, rendered speechless by the beauty around me. Blankets of snow, which covered every available surface, softened the concrete jungle of New York City. Storefronts were adorned in wreaths, the brilliant white snow offset by blood-red holly berries.

The admittedly loud music of Abercrombie taunted me from miles away, begging me to rejoice in its perfume drenched, overpriced stacks of navy sweaters.

“No, Zoe”. My mom trilled, dragging my face away from the lines of high-end chain stores. “We’re here to see One Direction” she bubbled, excitedly.  Ew! It’s one thing to have One Direction Infection, but It’s another to be 45 years old and have One Direction Infection. Yeah, sure, most of my friends were smitten with the five boys, but none of their MOMS were! In fact, I myself didn’t care much for the band. Their “charming ways” and “amazing smiles” didn’t pull me in like they did to the rest of the female population.  Yeah I’m normal: I love to shop, I dance crazily with my friends, and I’m addicted to Starbucks Mochacinnos…. But the boys never much grabbed my attention.

Although, the ultra-famous boy band did grab the attention of my mom. Ever since she saw them on some late-night talk show, she’s been dying to see them in concert. You may find it a little strange that a mom loves One Direction more than her daughter. If so, then you are totally and completely… right. She drove me from Florida all the way to New York just to make it look like she wasn’t a crazy pedophile mom. It obviously didn’t seem to work, because she got many strange glares from passer-byes who were obviously taken aback by her “I heart One Direction” t-shirt, and very age-inappropriate miniskirt. I looked like the sane one in my dark-wash skinny jeans and white cable-knit sweater. I guess I wasn’t quite dressed for the concert tonight, but it’s not like I really cared what the boys thought of me, they wouldn’t even be looking my way. With thousands of other screaming fans to declare their love for them, I doubted my disturbingly obsessed mom and I would get a second glance.

My Mom grabbed my hand in her bony one, (another indication that she was too old to be obsessing over the boys) and dragged me along the icy streets towards a manicure place. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my manicures, but I was much more embarrassed when I was getting one next to my creepily outfitted mom.

“Oooh! There’s one!” She pointed at an unsuspecting nail salon, giddily bouncing like a 12-year-old girl. Oh poor salon, they had no idea what they were about to be put through. A little bell rang on the door as my mom pushed it open, and an employee hurried over to her. The employee didn’t even look twice at my moms interesting get-up. I guess it was part of her job to treat anyone who came to her, no matter how crazy. My mom began to talk in a high-pitched voice, but I cut her off.

“Hi, we want two original manicures, please.” I asked calmly, demonstrating to my mom what a normal person sounded like.

“Yes, and will you put those little flowers on our thumbs? I just love that!” my mom squealed. Oh god. My mom proceeded to pay for the outrageously expensive manicures, and I quickly walked away so as not to look related to her. I picked out a midnight-blue polish dotted with sparkles like the night sky, and sat down at the chair waiting for my attendant. My phone buzzed in my pocket, making me jump. I pulled out my decades-old blackberry phone. My mom, remember, the one who loves One Direction, can’t understand the popularity of iPhones for the life of her. I’ve had the same phone since I was at least 13, and now that I’m almost 18 I think a new one should be in order. I glanced at the text; It was from my best friend, Taylor.

Heyy!! Just got off the plane. B there in a sec! Can’t wait to see u and ur cray mom ;)

 

Phew! The only thing making this trip bearable was the arrival of my BFF.

Thank u god!! Save me from this freeeaaak! :P I’ll c u in an hr. hopefully less??

 

I shot back, eager to have someone to entertain my thoughts besides my mom. Just then my manicurist sat in front of me and dipped my hands into foamy lemon-scented water. Just as I felt my troubles melt away into the small bowl, my mom reminded me why I was so in pain.

“So do you have any Asian background? I mean usually your kind of people do, you know?” My Mom asked her manicurist, who had also just arrived. Oh god. My mom had definitely mastered the art of embarrassment. This seemed even beyond her. I covered my flushed cheeks with my sweater and crouched in shame, counting every second until Taylor arrived.

I tried to tune out my moms mindless babbling, as I’m sure her manicurist was doing, too. I just hoped she wasn’t talking about One Direction again, I didn’t want them to think she was crazier than she’d already made herself out to be. But I guess her atrocious t-shirt already threw that hope out the window. My manicurist put the last touch of polish on my buffed-raw fingers, and gushed at how much the indigo complemented my gray eyes. I smiled wanly, but was secretly happy for the compliment. My mom walked over to inspect my manicure, making sure it was “age appropriate” (e.g., no red or black). I smartly neglected to point out to her that she was wearing a mini-skirt and “I heart One Direction” t-shirt.  My mom, surprisingly, overlooked her own craziness and opted for a muted pink nail color, the kind that grandmas usually wear. I was actually quite happy that she was finally showing some signs of sanity.

“Are you sure that color isn’t too Goth, sweetie? It’s awfully close to black.” My mom looked skeptically at my nails.

“Mom. There’s glitter in them. Goth people don’t wear glitter. And it’s dark blue, not black! Plus, I think I’m old enough to govern my own choices.” I exclaimed.

“Ok, sweetie. That’s fine with me. You’re a grown woman, you’re right.” My mom smiled defensively.

I huffed at her tone. “Yes, and so are you. Just keep that in mind, next time you get dressed” It sort of slipped out before I could stop it. My mom looked hurt, fingering the high hemline of her ruffled black skirt, and pulling it down slightly.  “Look, I’m sorry. Let’s just go find some dinner. Taylor will be at the hotel soon.” I tried to mollify her, patting her arm awkwardly.

“Yes, dinner sounds great! Oh I know this great sushi place down on 12th Avenue….” Here we go again! I rolled my eyes, but I was secretly grateful that she was back to her usual self. Or, at least, after an hour of babbling, I tried to tell myself that. 

Sorry this first chapter doesn't have the boys but I promise the next few do. This is just an intro to the characters! Thanks! 

Courtenay