Your One & Only (Zayn Malik FanFic)

Chapter 1: Angels

:)

Ever since I was young, I wanted to model. I'd watch all of the modeling shows with my grandmother, who enjoyed them as much as I did. That's how I learned to get better. I practiced, and practiced. I improved.

But before my sophomore year in high school, I had been a little more on the chubby side. I couldn't get any modeling jobs because of it. But the summer before my sophomore year, I changed. After that, I got my butt in gear and audition for so many jobs.

My first major job was posing for Forever 21. Now, it's Victoria's Secret. Who knew a girl from a small town in Iowa could be Victoria's Secret's new Angel?

•••

"Myla, you ready?" My best friend, Sasha King, shouted from my living room. I quickly finished up my makeup and ran out my bedroom in a hurry. If you were ever late, Sasha would be in a bad mood for the rest of the day, even if you were just going to Starbucks. And like my mother, I tended to run late.

"You look nice," I said, looking from her head to her feet. Her auburn hair was in big curls, and her long-and-lean body looked curvy in a short spring dress with a floral pattern.

"Well, we are going out without any disguises."

Sasha and I met at the Victoria's Secret tryouts for the new teen model. After I was picked, we became really good friends. She wasn't even mad when she didn't get the job. When the paparazzi caught us together at many various places, my agent called her agent and they made up a brilliant idea. Now, we're both the models for the new line. Sasha has that exotic and stunning look, while I am the Girl-Next-Door type. We're the perfect pair.

"I don't look trashy, right?" Wearing a white V-neck and a pair of casual jean shorts, my favorite from American Eagle, I looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror.

"Well," she started. I took it as a yes, so I turned around and headed back toward my bedroom.

"Help me!" I slouched in front of the blouses section in my walk-in closet.

"How about this?" Sasha held up a white top that looked like a tablecloth.

"Eh, too formal." I held up a short skirt with a floral print.

"Yeah, but tuck the shirt in. Oh, and with these shoes." She pulled out a pair of pure white ballet flats.

"I never used to wear white shoes. Or anything white. What if I get those dirty?"

"We're only going to Starbucks, My," she gave the shoes to me and returned back to the living room.

"Ahh," I shrieked. The backs of my heals started to hurt. "Where are some of those sock things?"

"The what?" Sasha called from the living room.

I looked in the drawers. "Never mind." After I pulled the socks on, I put on my shoes.

Noticing that I totally forgot to put my skirt on, I hurriedly threw it on. I pulled out the elastic that tied my naturally blonde hair in a messy bun and my hair fell past my shoulders in a calm, beachy wave. I am just that lucky.

"You almost done?" Sasha was growing inpatient. Well, it is our only day off this week. We work tomorrow at a photo shoot, which was a Monday.

Grabbing my purse, I hurried out of my bedroom. Shutting the door behind me. "'Kay, I'm ready."

After I locked my door, Sasha had already pushed the button for the elevator.

Our suite building was very similar to the one Jennifer Garner had on "13 Going On Thirty". And Sasha lived just down the hall, so it was very convenient for us since we could just holler if we needed anything. Plus, we carpool. I don't know why Sasha won't just move in, she's here all the time.

•••

We linked arms while we strode out of the building. The scent of exhaust and hot dogs filled my nose, replacing the sweet Febreze in the lobby. Also, the whole streets looked chaotic as everyone was hustling to go to work, or possibly church. We hailed a cab, trying to cover our identities with sunglasses.

A taxi pulled over and Sasha opened the door. Holding down my skirt, I shrieked as it almost flew up. Sasha turned back at me.

"Whore."

After I quickly jumped in the cab, I softly punched Sasha in the arm.

"You bitch. Why didn't you tell me it was windy out?"

Sasha laughed. "Myla, we're Angels now. No one can judge us. And, how was I supposed to know? Be responsible."

"I am responsible," I said quietly.

"Central Park," she informed the driver.