"Love Contract" (One Direction fanfic)

Chapter One: Bar Fights and Bruised Lips

            I wake up with my head pounding and the sunlight too bright, pouring from my windows. The left side of my lip feels horrible and the scenes from last night flash through my head. I vaguely remember some stupid lad trying to pick me up, me spatting in his face, a fist coming towards me, and then me throwing multiple punches. I get up from my bed and turn on my phone, playing my morning playlist loudly through my flat.

Hey girl, I’m waitin’ on ya, I’m waitin’ on ya

Come on and let me sneak you out

And have a celebration, a celebration

The music’s up, the window’s down

            I head to my bathroom and glance at my reflection in the mirror. Oh, it doesn’t look so bad. I think to myself, gingerly touching the bruised corner of my lip and then pulling back in pain. It feels a lot worse than it looks. Then my phone beeps, interrupting my music and I glance at the message. It was from Clement, my manager.

            “Come to my office ASAP you are SO DEAD!!”

            I guess she got news of my bar fight. I glance at my bruise again and roll my eyes before pulling my long dark hair into a ponytail, singing along to the lyrics.

Let’s go crazy, crazy, crazy till we see the sun

I know we only met but let’s pretend its love

And never, never, never stop for anyone

Tonight let’s get some

            As I’m singing along, I look at the tips of my hair. I think it’ll look nice with a lavender ombre effect…

And live while we’re young

---------------------------------------

            “Ariel, you are two hours late and—WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR HAIR?!” Clement screams as I walk into her office with a lavender ombre effect on the tips of my black hair.

            “I just got it done, do you like it?” I saw, taking off my ray bans and plopping down on her office chair as she heads over to me and takes a bit of my hair in her hands.

            “Ariel…you’re killing me. First that bar fight and now dyeing your hair, you’re playing into this bad girl image!” Clement says, letting go of my hair and massaging the space between her eyes.

            “I’m not adding to my bad girl image, Clem. It looks good, I like it.” I said, swinging my feet up on her table. “Besides it takes the attention off my bruise.”

            “You have a bruise?!?”

            “See, you didn’t even notice it.” I said as Clement suddenly leans towards me and squishes my cheeks together, trying to get a better look at my bruise on the corner of my lip.

            “And you have a bruise!!” Clement yells and she starts pacing back and forth in her office. “They’re going to fire me. I’m going to be unemployed and living on the streets.”

            “You’re not getting fired.” I mumbled, playing with my ray bans. Clement always overreacted whenever something happens. Then her cellphone vibrates and she practically dives for it, checking whatever message whoever sent her.

            “So…am I going to be suspended from all my activities again?” I asked. The last time I got in trouble I was suspended from any projects for a month, I didn’t mind it much because it was basically like a vacation. Or so I thought, the company had guards all over my flat building and trailing me whenever I left my flat, making sure I wouldn’t cause more trouble.

            “Of course not, you’re their highest paid actress, suspending you last time caused the company to lose money.” Clement explains, still reading her text message. The more she reads, the happier she seems, then finally she sighs in relief and hugs me.

            “It’s going to be okay.” She says, her face buried in my hair.

            I pat her back, unsure of what she was talking about. “What’s going on?”

            “I messaged my friend Paul, asking if he had any ideas on what to do with your scandal and he suggested something beautiful.” Clement says, gathering her stuff, like she was leaving or something. “We’re meeting him right now.”

            “What did he suggest?” I question as she ushers me out of her chair and out of her office.

            “For you to contract-date one of his artists.” Clement says brightly, dragging me towards the elevator.

            “WHAT?!”

-----------------------------------