Reality

When The Tables Turn

A/N: Hi, just an FYI for those of you that think Brooke is an unrealistic character ... I lived with a roommate for the last year and a half of my time in college that literally flipped a switch in one week. To this day we are no longer friends, nor did we acknowledge each other when we moved out of our apartment. So it does happen. Certain things trigger people's attitude/behavior changes

Brooke

"These are amazing," I smile at Zayn as we walk through the art gallery where his work is displayed. An extremely proud expression takes over his facial features as he stares at each of his canvas pieces.

"They look so much better displayed here than in my house," he walks around to the second wall that holds his work, pointing at a couple pieces. "This one doesn't look as boring as I thought it was. And this one actually looks decent. And this, this looks incredible."

I watch and follow as he examines each and every work of art as if it's the first time he's ever seen them. His eyes light up as he reads each tag for each picture. 

ZAYN MALIK. SAN FRANCISCO. 2015.

The title of each piece is scribbled right above his name, and as he takes one more look at all his work on display, he exhales a deep breath of satisfaction.

"This has been one of my dreams for a very long time. Well, at least part of it. I've always wanted to have my work in a gallery, but I never thought it was good enough to be put on display like this."

"What's the other part of your dream?" I ask, walking over to stand next to him.

He looks between me and his work as he grins. "For it to be able to sell. I want to be able to make a decent living off my paintings without having to go out and get another job. This is my job."

With the way his eyes sparkle and light up as he talks about painting and looks at his work, I know right away that this really is what Zayn wants to do. Creating art is his love and passion, and being able to be rewarded for that passion would be incredible. All he wants is someone to appreciate his work the way he does. 

We walk around the gallery for a little bit, admiring the other work and talking with the gallery owner. He seems to really love Zayn's work and requested that he bring in some more once he's made some. It's cute to see Zayn in his element. I can see his confidence skyrocket with the compliments from the gallery owner, and I can only imagine the creativity flowing through his head as he thinks of more paintings to make. 

After what seems like a very long time at the gallery, the two of us get into his Prius and make the drive back to the house. For the first time, it's silent between us. It's never like this. I don't know why it's this way right now. It's possible that his mind is focused on all his artwork, it's possible that he doesn't have much to say, and it's possible that with everything that has happened this past week, I've nixed every possible conversation that doesn't deal with this week's events.

I feel horrible for what came out of my mouth on Wednesday. It was wrong in every shape, and I didn't have the right to say such things. I didn't know that at the time, but now I do. I thought that I could voice everything going on in my head because I was hurt, no matter how harsh or low it was. It's been two days since my outburst, and I have yet to apologize to anyone. I know that's bad on my part, but for some reason I just can't bring myself to say anything.

I think there is a portion of me that believes what I did was justified, but I know realistically it's not. That's never justified. I had every intention of apologizing to Harry on Thursday, but the moment I found out he was with that girl that ruined everything between us, I think I emotionally shut down. It hurts to know he would hang out with her after all that's happened, and it hurts to know that Aubrey is encouraging it.