S.O.S. ✘ One Direction

30: Frogs & Roasts

FROGS & ROASTS

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I'm sure you all have many questions.

Such as, how do you dye your hair repeatedly and have it lack any signs of damage? Or, why did you really leave One Direction?

But clearly those are irrelevant and unimportant questions. The real question here is what's my favorite color?

It's falu.

But my favorite color is no story. In fact, if I told the tale of how I discovered it you'd only be here for a mere second. So I guess I should tell the real story of why I left One Direction.

The day was March 25th, 2015.

.

.

.

It started in the morning. I woke up in Japan with the rays of sunlight shining in through the window. It was silent, but I liked that; nothing to disturb my peaceful slumber.

Except a powerful stomachache.

I yelped and grabbed onto my abdomen. Something was bubbling inside, and it wasn't happiness or anticipation for our concert that night. Oh, no - it was the chicken and chili.

Louis had sworn up and down and side to side that it would be a good idea for a meal. I loved Louis, and I was entitled to love his ideas too, so I only gave a shrug and happily ate the meal as we both watched illegally downloaded movies.

"Chicken and chili, pew pew pew," he had said, making finger guns at the television screen.

I should have known something was up with it.

"Holy shit," I sputtered. I began rolling around in pain. Is this what it felt like to be a woman? I'd never say a single word to them about the topic again.

I gave a loud groan and rolled so far that I landed on the ground. I could see the light of the connected bathroom not too far off; if I only I could make it in time before I exploded. My fingers grabbed onto the carpet below my aching body and I began dragging myself ever so slowly to the destination. Several curses spilled out my mouth but I just kept going, knowing that when I arrived I could finally be relieved of this horrible, treacherous pain.

I finally reached the bathroom and threw my head back in joy. "Hallelujah!" I yelled.

I got up from the ground and wasted no time in transferring my butt to that toilet seat. The great thing about Japan was that those toilets never disappoint. If I was going to stink up a bathroom, I was honored to have it be one of theirs.

It was like the devil was exiting my body. "Save my soul," I cried out. My hands fumbled for the toilet remote lying on the sink. I quickly pressed the button to turn on the heated seats, and then got a little hyper and began playing with the other controls. That chicken and chili was no match for these talented Japanese inventions.

After finishing, I felt renewed. Like a new person; like nothing could ever bring me down again. I stood at the sink with freshly cleaned hands and attitude.

"You the best," I said to my reflection. "You smart. You loyal. They don't want you to have miracle toilets."

But then, as I was turning to leave the bathroom, my feet slipped on some spilled water. It was like everything was occurring in slow motion - I fumbled to get a grasp of the edge of the sink, of anything, but it was hopeless. I fell backward and straight into the toilet.

"No," I moaned, "This is not happening, not today." I placed my hands on the seat and pushed down in an attempt to get my butt out, but it was to no avail.