One Direction Imagines/Preferences :) (REQUESTS CLOSED)

Random Zayn Imagine

Work. More like nine hours of torture a day.

And it was my birthday! Life needs to go check itself or something because this is just plain wrong.

I'm Jordan Malik. My twin brother is Zayn from One Direction. *Moment of silence for the girls to fangirl and scream their pretty little heads off* While Zayn lives his dream of being a singer with his four best friends, I'm stuck in tiny little Bradford. I'm a nineteen year old girl still living with her mother, working at a joint Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts nine hours a day. My best friends are my seashells that I collected when I was younger. Just kidding. It was my dog, Buddy. Buddy stayed in my room 24/7. Never left, except for walks and to use the bathroom. He's as unsociable as me and Zayn are.

I look exactly like Zayn, except I added some red highlights to my waist-length black hair. Besides that, I am a female version of Zayn. Except with no drawing or singing ability whatsoever. Let's face it. Compared to Zayn, I am nothing.

Zayn can sing. I can screech.

Zayn can draw. I can mix a bunch of colors on a page and scribble.

Zayn has decent grades. I got through my last year of school with one A, one C, and all B's.

Zayn has girls worldwide falling head over heels for him. I get about as much male attention as Voldemort catches females' eyes.

Whenever Zayn comes home, I slowly disappear. It's like I'm just a figment of everyone's imagination. It gets slightly better when Zayn leaves Bradford again. But I'm always half cloaked by invisibility. I suppose it's better than the attention I got in high school though....

***Flashback***

"Look! It's Jordan!"

"Freak!"

"Slut!"

My locker was covered in horrid notes from my classmates, all sending hate or telling me to die. Jack and his two goons shoved through the crowd until they reached me. Jack grabbed my shoulder and swung me to face him, shoving me backwards into my locker as well. My head banged into the metal and I yelped in pain.

"Well if it isn't the Girl Who Wants to be a Boy," Jack drawled. That was a common insult centered around my name.

"She don't look like no boy, Jack," one of his goons said, his eyes taking in my body from head to toe. He wasn;t even trying to not be noticeable.

"No, you're right, Kyle. She wants me, guys. You can tell by the way she looks at me," Jack cackled, grinding himself into me. I whimpered and wiggled, trying to get free.

"HEY!" a female voice shouted out. Everyone's head snapped towards Gabby and her little posse trailing behind her. She roughly pushed Jack off of me and got up in her face. "What the hell were you doing to my boyfriend, bitch?!"

She never gave me a chance to answer before she pulled me to the ground by my hair and her and her friends started to kick me, their heels hitting everywhere from my legs to my stomach to my cheek. Gabby topped it all off by grabbing a bystander's can of soda and pouring it on me, making sure to pelt the empty can at my already bruised face.

***End***

Thinking back to high school never brings back good memories. I discreetly wipe my eyes as I check the time, removing my apron once I realize that it's five of four. I clocked out and began the ten minute walk home. At least now I can go home and celebrate what's left of my birthday in peace.

Or not.

I opened the front door to hear music blasting. People danced around the rooms, some carrying glasses while others were holding little plates with snacks on them. I closed the door and made my way through the crowd, not one person noticing me. Surprise, surprise.