Treacherous- A One Direction Fan Fiction (ON HOLD)

Chapter Four

HELLO! I am so excited about writing this book and I go on vacation in like a week so I'll be able to update even more :D I'm so sorry this chapter is extremely sad/boring/terrible writing but I will hopefully update super duper soon! THANK YOU ALL FOR READING I LOVE YOU! xx

Chapter 4-

I wasn't really sure what to feel at first. It's like when you find out really bad news and you don't exactly know how to react at first, but once you realize what happened, you start freaking out. Yeah, that's what happened to me, right now. 

I watched as Harry and Emma continued to suck face, making me want to puke in my mouth. HOW? WHAT? WHY DID THIS HAPPEN?! I continued to freak myself out as I pushed through the crowd trying to find my way out.

The ache in my stomach grew bigger and bigger and I was relieved to feel the cold April air as I stepped outside. I walked a few feet away from the girls lined up on the street and ran towards a trash bin on a nearby sidewalk. Before I could stop myself, I threw up into the garbage. I felt a little bit better but I still felt like somebody had hit me in the chest with  hard, metal baseball bat. 

My head was spinning out of control. My feet were unstable and I had to lean on a nearby lamp post to keep my balance. Worst of all, my heart had been shattered into a million pieces.

I glanced over to the crowd of girls standing outside the door. Some were staring at me in sympathy for my sickness. Others, well I could tell by their expressions that they were extremely curious about what happened inside that door. They probably thought I was drunk, which would have been much better than what I was feeling. 

I decided to move away from the girls, and walked a bit down the street where I was out of their view. After a few minutes, I could hear them screaming again. 

Once I had thrown up again, I sat on the curb and tried to wrap my head around everything. So, I got beer spilt all over me (but by Louis Tomlinson, so I guess that's okay). I met my celebrity crush, I go to the bathroom and come back to see my directionator best friend making out with him. Fantastic. 

I tried to think of something else, but the image of Harry and my best friend kissing kept popping back into my head.

It must have been nearly midnight by now. We hadn't left our apartment until almost 11:30 and there was no way we were there for more than a half hour.

I probably shouldn't have left Emma there, since it was my idea to come here in the first place, but I did. I got off my spot on the curb and started walking home. My feet pounded against the pavement each time I took a step. 

The walk that only took ten minutes felt like three hours. I walked past the places that Emma and I loved. Our favorite cafe, the dress shop where Emma works, the street with all our favorite shops. I hated walking down this street alone. Emma was almost always at my side. 

Finally approaching the door to our building, I threw open the door and walked up the three flights of stairs until I reached our apartment. Once inside, I threw off my jacket, kicked my shoes across the room and ran into my bedroom. I collapsed on the bed and suddenly began sobbing. 

I hated Emma. She knows how much I love Harry and she just goes ahead and kisses him anyway.  She didn't even try to stop it. But, of course I didn't hate Emma...I couldn't. She was my best friend and my roommate. We had never even been in a real fight before. 

Before I knew it, my face was soaked with tears. I pulled out my phone and opened twitter. There was nothing there about Harry Styles kissing a mysterious girl at a London night club. I knew that soon it will be all over the internet and Emma would be famous. And nobody will know about me, the boring roommate who people could care less about. 

I threw my phone into a pile of clothes beside my bed, and cried again. I let the disturbing image of Harry and Emma take over my mind as I cried myself to sleep. 

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The sounds of London woke me up early the next morning. I loved hearing the car horns and the business of the streets every morning. 

I got up and looked at myself in the mirror in disgust. I looked like a cross between a clown and a zombie. My mascara had run down my face from when I was crying, leaving black streaks all down my cheeks. My face was completely blotchy from the dry tears on my face, and I was breaking out.  To top it all off, my hair looked like it was a rat's nest. Fantastic. 

I realized that I had fallen asleep without changing out of my dress from last night. My stomach churned as I mentally recalled the events from the dreadful evening. On my way to the bathroom, I realized Emma's door was shut. She must have come in when I was sleeping. I had no idea what happened after I left her and Harry and I'm not sure I really want to know. 

After getting rid of the mess on my face, I went out to make breakfast. I started to make eggs and bacon which was a typical breakfast for us on a Sunday morning. 

I guess I decided I would forgive Emma. I was extremely overdramatic about the whole thing, and I'm sure she wants nothing to do with him after last night. I would be insanely jealous, but that's only natural--right? 

As I was pouring two glasses of orange juice, I heard the door to Emma's room open. I heard footsteps before I saw her figure emerge.

"Morning," I said putting on my fakest smile. "How'd you sleep?" 

I took a large sip of orange juice as I waited for her to reply. Before she could answer, another figure emerged from the direction of Emma's bedroom. I didn't even have to look twice to realize who it was. Without thinking, I spurt the orange juice in my mouth all over the kitchen counter in complete and utter shock.