FAKE

eight.

(the one in London)

I arrived in London Friday at noon, after several hours of traveling. Goodbye in Hadley had been surprisingly emotional. Isaiah had wished me a good trip at least a thousand times; Calum had teased me to be safe if I 'got down with Harry' and even gifted me a box of condoms; and Chris had asked me to buy him something Beatles-related.

In Heathrow, one of the guys' management's workers was waiting on me to take me to the studio (yeah, these assholes wouldn't even let me go to Harry's house first to relax. It was straight to work, yay!)

We arrived at the studio less than twenty minutes later. I got out with my small carry-on (my only luggage), and followed the management's guy's pace inside the building. He led me to a waiting room and told me to stay there for a second. I sat on one of the large coaches and took out my phone. I had missed notifications from the Hadley guys.

I first opened Calum's snapchats that were all of his face reminding me to use protection (I mean forreal?); then there was Sophia texting me to get her Louis' autograph, and finally Isaiah asking me if I'd made it to London safe.

For some reason, I smiled at Isaiah's preoccupation. It felt right knowing that he cared.

"Gabrielle?" A known voice spoke from behind me. I turned around to see television's most intimidating jury.

"Simon!" I ran to hug him. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay." He smiled. "Do you want to come to my office and talk?" He motioned me to get inside the room. I agreed, noting that he wanted to talk somewhere more private.

After having sat on one of Simon's office big cushions, he started talking.

"So Harry and you...?" He questioned.

"But you know that it's fake, right?" Harry had told me that it was Simon's idea for one of the guys to date someone that would make Zayn jealous in the first place.

"'Course I know, Gabby." He said softly. "But I just want to warn you of the things that you'll be doing. I know that Harry and you are really close, so I don't want you getting hurt."

"Sure." I looked at him. "But why are you doing this though. Didn't Zayn sign with you for his solo career?" I had read something along those lines in the Internet. Because no one wanted to talk to me about Zayn, the Internet was my only source of information.

"Yes, he is; but the guys need Zayn to make more profits." He answered simply. "Neither solo Zayn, nor 4-piece One Direction will make as much money - either together or separately - than One Direction. I want them together, because so it's better for us all."

"So, it's all about the money?" I asked.

"No, it's not. It's also about the fans and I guess that you understand that. Zayn is letting many girls down. The worst part: his real reason to leave isn't the ..." He thought for a second, as if trying to choose the precise word to use. "Wisest."

"Alright." I sighed. "So what do I do?"

"Write and sing, darling." He looked at me. "And then look pretty for the cameras."

"That seems easy enough." I admitted.

"Well, it is." Simon fixed his posture, accommodating his body on his chair. "I also need you to write a couple of songs for Zayn. If it's something personal that will hit him home, it's better. We need to make him change."