Muse

A repetitive monotone beeping noise abruptly drags me from my dream. Groaning, I roll onto my stomach and start blindly searching for the off switch on my alarm clock.

When that doesn't work, I reluctantly open my eyes.

My eyes are assaulted by the neon red numbers from my alarm clock: 5:15. I hate how school makes us get up so early. With all of this constant pressure to be better than the kid sitting next to us, you'd think that they would let us be fully awake.

Grumbling and groaning, I shuffle my way down my hallway to the bathroom. As I turn on the lights in the bathroom I cringe at the newly bright space. I turn on the shower and while I wait for the water to heat up I glance at myself in the mirror. My long brown curls are going in every direction that they shouldn't and my usually bright blue eyes are looking dull and lifeless.

As I step into the warm shower, I instantly feel all of my tense muscles relax under the constant sprinkle of warm water. I can't avoid the thoughts that start flooding my mind.

College. Today is my first day at NYU. Instead of staying in a dorm, my parents decided to get me a small apartment. So that's a roomate that I don't have to worry about. After the incident that happened last year back home, I'm greatful for the clean slate.

Going back to my room, I sit down in front of my floor length mirror and start trying to comb out my tangled wet curls. I know that a lot of girls are going to show up today trying to impress everyone else, but that's just not who I am. Just a thin line of black eyeliner, some mascara, a pale brown eyeshadow and some pale pink lipstick is all I need. As I start blowdrying my hair, I attempt to relax.

Opening my closet, I look at the clothes I brought and weigh my options. Pulling out a white fitted crop top and a pair of high waisted pastel floral pants I decide that it isn't trying too hard, but I don't look like a slob either.

The cropped top shows off a little peek of my tanned torso, the perks of living in California most of your life. I'm not as skinny as society wants me to be, so the looser fitting pants help conceal my wider hips. I just put on some basic stud earrings and a pair of mint ballet flats and decide that I'm good to go. I quickly throw my hair up into a sock bun as I walk into my small kitchen.

I grab a bagel and a green tea out of my fridge and glance at the clock. Shit. It's already 6:45. I quickly grab my bag, throwing it over my shoulder and start on my 5 minute walk to the campus. After getting bumped, cursed at and cat called I finally make my way to the campus. I find a bench and start digging in my bag looking for my schedule. You'd think that on my first day of college I'd be more organized. Someone walks by and accidentally knocks my bag off of my lap and onto the concrete.

The contents of my bag litter the ground. The person who rudely knocked my bag off my lap is immediately on their hands and knees trying to help pick up my things.

"Oh my god. I am so sorry about that. I just..."

The voice stops abruptly and when I look up my eyes meet an attractive blonde looking at me with a friendly smile on his face. I instantly start blushing and he laughs at my apparent embarrassment. He stands up and offers me his hand to help pull myself up with.

"Thanks for helping me pick up my stuff" I shyly say while trying to give my best smile.

He doesn't seem to be fazed by my shy behavior. He just laughs, "Maybe I should just try to watch where I walk." I laugh at his attempt at a joke. He cocks his head and gives me a questioning look, "Are you a freshman?"

"Yeah. I'm just hoping I don't get lost trying to get to my class". He smirks and grabs my schedule from my hand. "Painting", he reads from my paper, "I know exactly where that is, let me walk you there." He laughs at me and nudges me in the arm, "I love helping out the pretty freshmen."

I blush at his words, which immediately evokes a laugh from him. The building isn't too far away and casual talk flows between us. As we start to approach the building I start to relax. "So, there's this party tonight and I would love it if you would meet me there". I can't help but smile at his words. "I haven't been to many parties, so why not." A boyish grin comes across his face and he wraps his arm around my shoulder giving me a soft squeeze. He digs his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone.

He hands me his phone and smirks. "Just put your number in here and I'll text you the details for this party"

As I'm putting in his number, "My name's Niall by the way. Sorry for taking so long to introduce myself. I haven't caught your name yet?"

I hand him his phone back and smile, "I'm Olivia"

That signature boyish grin creeps across Niall's face for the 3rd time today. "Well I have to get going." He starts walking away towards his next class. "See you at the party Olivia!" He calls over his shoulder.

I smile at him and take a deep breath. I push open the door to my painting class and see that the room is only half full. There are easels set up in a semi-circle around where the professor is shuffling through stacks of papers on her desk. She's a middle aged woman with straight black hair pulled into a tight pony tail. She has sharp features that are accentuated by her crisp black suit and pale yellow top.

Not wanting to bother her I sit down at an open easel and start to pull out my sketchbook. My phone vibrates and a text from an unknown number comes up:

*You know, I purposely knocked your bag off your lap earlier*

I smile at his cute way of getting me to talk to him. I put my phone on silent and look around at the people in my class. There are the usual art students: the ones who are too cool for art, the ones who are just strange and the ones who are just dark and moody.

There is one person who stands out to me. He's bent over his sketchbook scribbling furiously. He has dark brown curls that are falling into his eyes. He has tattoos covering his arms and he is wearing a black t-shirt that clings to his muscular torso. His arms flex as he continues to scribble in his sketchbook. His jeans are straining against his legs because of how tight they are. He has to run his fingers through his hair and pushes his thick curls off of his forehead. He huffs in frustration and abruptly looks up, catching me staring.

A blush immediately creeps into my face as I look down at my lap in embarrassment. I can hear a soft chuckle coming from his direction.

Thankfully the professor saves me from my humiliation. "Hello class. Welcome to Painting and I will be your professor. My name is Debra. Please do not call me anything other than that. Today I want to get an idea of who you are as artists. I would like for you to do a painting of what you'd hopes are. Please do it in any style you'd like. You will start these now and they will be due at the end of the week."

Relieved to get out all of my anxieties, I start putting my brush onto my canvas.

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This is my first fanfic and I am really excited/nervous about it! So any HONEST feedback about it or theories about what's going to happen at this party would be great. I'm going to try and update regularly. I haven't decided if it will be every week or everyday. I love you guys and thank you for reading!