Hidden Beneath Brown Eyes (A Zayn Malik Fanfiction)

Chapter 5 - The Concert

With the 19th fast approaching, I was mentally preparing myself for the meeting that would either confirm my insanity, or possibly change my life. I kept trying to visualize meeting him and even tried practicing what I would say, but I honestly had no clue how I would act once I actually saw him standing there in front of me.

My anxiety was picking up with the speed of a Ferrari. I was constantly pacing my room, biting my nails down to nubs, and chewing any piece of paper I could get my hands on. I couldn't understand what it was about this guy that made me so damn nervous.

Several times I had called up Rosie, offering an excuse for why I couldn't go, and every time my little proud smirk would fall from my face when she would poke a hole in even my most thought out, and well planned excuse.

The night before the concert, I was tossing and turning in my bed, my mind going 1000 miles per hour.

What am I going to wear? How much makeup should I put on? How early should we get there? Should I bring something for them to sign?

When my mind finally slowed down long enough for me to fall asleep, my dreams were plagued by Zayn's chocolate brown eyes and I was instantly awakened. This pattern repeated itself multiple times that night.

I woke up the next morning, eyes crusted over, hair in a tangled mess, purple bags under my eyes. God I wish Rosie had never showed me that picture. How much sleep have I lost in just this one night and all the other nights combined, just worrying about Zayn Malik?

I remained in my bed, trying to fall back to sleep. Eventually I decided that even if I did fall asleep, I'd only be woken up by yet another dream so it was best if I just got up and got dressed. I showered, brushed my teeth, and threw on a tshirt and jeans, and headed downstairs to get some breakfast.

My mom had made scrambled eggs and bacon and the smell was so deliciously tantalizing. I took a seat on a stool at the kitchen island and uttered a tired "Good morning" to my mom.

My mom turned around, flashing me a sweet and cheery smile. She has always been a morning person and that is something I love about her. I am not a morning person at all, so her happy attitude is what motivates me to leave my bed when I need to.

"Oh good morning honey. I'll have a plate ready for you in a minute."

"Thanks mom." I rested my head on the counter and shut my eyes momentarily while I waited for my plate.

When my mom finally placed a steaming hot plate of eggs and bacon in front of me, I started shoveling the food into my mouth and washing it down with a cold glass of orange juice.

"Oh Ada. Rosie called this morning and told me to remind you about the concert tonight." Oh great, she even got my mom involved.

"Thanks for reminding me." I gritted my teeth, trying not to growl.

"So what concert is it anyway?" I rolled my eyes, but thankfully she didn't see it because her back was turned to me.

"Just some boyband that Rosie is dragging me to see." I could see my mom's shoulders raise and a slight giggle escape her lips. At least my mom knew me well enough to believe that lie.

The rest of my day was rather normal. I went to the F.Y.E. in the mall to buy a small poster so I would have something for One Direction to sign when I met them tonight. I sat down and bought myself a huge chicken sandwich from Chik-Fil-A in the hopes that maybe that would calm my nerves, and it did, but only for a few hours. By the time I got home, the chicken high had worn off and I was back to anxiety mode.

I was frantically pacing my room with as many combinations of pants and shirts that I owned spread out across my bed. As I was in the middle of my solo fashion show, my phone started ringing. With only one leg in the pair of jeans I was getting into, I hopped over to the bed and picked it up.