Crooked Neighbor, Crooked Heart

One

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuck.

You've got to be kidding me. I hate New York with an intense and burning passion. So what if I've only been here for a solid hour and a half? I've asked about a million people (give or take a few) for directions but all I get in response is a quick glance as they point to the iPhone in their hands. I sigh and glance at my own phone. I have to be at The New School in thirty minutes!

I repeat: FUCK.

"You must be new to the city."

Wow I must look like a complete idiot wandering around swearing to myself. I pick my head up and look around to see who said that. The voice belonged to a small brown haired girl with delicate features and what appear to be gray eyes.

"Am I that obvious?"

"No," she smiled "but your accent sorta gave you away." Damn this Bradford accent. Wait was I really swearing that loudly? "You seem like you could use some help."

I sigh, finally someone with the decency to offer me some assistance. "Yea I'm looking for The New School campus."

"Oh that's no problem, I'm actually headed in that direction if you don't mind me joining you?"

"No of course not." I returned her friendly smile.

Lucy is a student and aspiring dancer at Julliard (yeah I know right, wow). She goes on to describe the difficulties of being an up and coming dancer and the amount of focus and dedication it requires. Therefore leaving essentiall no time to be spent with friends, family, and her boyfriend, Louis (he's a student at TNS as well but as part of the acting program).

"But hey, that's the way things are in this business ya know?"

All I can offer is a pathetic, "Yeah I guess so." 'Cause I don't know, not really.

She offers a small smile before hopping off of the train at her stop and giving me further instructions on reaching my destination.

"I'll see you around Zayn."

"See ya Lucy."

I finally arrive at my stop and walk over to the main building that houses the main office. It is buzzing with activity and the arrival of what I assume to be transfers, lke myself. I sign in, grab my name tag, and occupy myself with the articles and pictures lining the walls.

"Excuse me?"

"Yea 'm sorry what was that?"

"I said you must be Zayn Malik?" I nod and quickly glance at my name tag to make sure that it is actually my name. She sticks her hand out and intoduces herself. "I am Director Peterson and I am in charge of helping out the new transfers. I would also like to offer my sincerest apologies for the confusion involving you dorm room. I can't imagine you have a very good impression of us so far."

Dorming confusion? "Oh, I actually just got here and had no idea about any dorming mix up."

"Ah that's a relief. Well I had assigned you a tour guide who should be-"

"So who's the newbie?"

I turn around and am met by the green eyes of a girl who I assume is my tour guide. She is tall and thin and so striking that only Director Peterson's voice tears my eyes from her.

"Well it's about time Miss Robins!" She exclaims, frustration clear in her voice.

"Sorry Director P, you know how I like to be fashionably late. Gives people another reason not to forget who you are." She grins slightly.

"Yes it is wonderful to have the reputation as the artist who is so pompous she cannot show up on time to her own exhibitions and gallery openings!"

"That is technically not me as of yet considering my work has not been publicly displayed in said gallery." She turns to face me slightly and in a fake whisper says, "Guess my work is a bit too profound for the everyday viewer. They need more time to 'get on my level' if you will."

She winks and turns back to face the Director who at this point is doing everything in her power to keep from rolling her eyes. Can't say that I blame her though. Jeez who does this girl think she is?

She lets out an exasperated sigh. "Just show him around campus and have him at the theater in an hour and a half for the official orientation."

She bows dramatically. "Your wish is my command." At this point Peterson has had enough and turns to leave.

When my guide looks back up that innocent face is gone and replaced by a half smirk; a hint of something that I can't quite put my finger on shines in her eyes. But for some reason, something about it makes me want to know what exactly that something is.