adolescent. ≫ niall horan au

Chapter 3.

-day of Open House-

To catch you up, I almost killed Jessica once or..8 times, Ms. Avalon is as tense as ever, and I can't find my rubix cube. The struggle in my life is surreal.

People are pilling up at the door waiting to see their future kids. Ms. Avalon and her assistant, Kate are filling in register sheets at the front door, and everyone's getting dressed.

Kate's a nice girl. Blonde, pretty, and helpful. One of those people I despise for all the girlish jealous reasons; better than I am.

All the girls are wearing all pretty and flowy dresses with froo-froo and all this unnecessary shit like heels for the older ones, makeup, loads of perfume (which I'm suffocating in) and dolled-up hair dos. There's never enough of it. Can't we just relax and smell the roses, without worrying about looks?

I on the other hand am wearing an Tardis t-shirt covered by a Tardis jumper, blue sneakers, grey jeans, and a Tardis blue (somewhat of a dark navy, royal blue) beanie to compliment my short hair. I awaited patiently on my phone. Guess what my favorite show is...

"So your not wearing a dress? Typical of you." Snapped Jessica. This bitch is always in my business, like she owns me.

"Is typical a bad thing? Well if it is, it's typical of you to look ogre-like when you cake chemicals and nasty gloop on your face. That's why your so ugly when you remove those vile substances." Jessica gave me a death-glare. "I kid of course. No, I really don't..." I mumbled that last part. I completely ignored her for the rest of the wasted time, on my phone waiting for the time I can meet my 'new parents'.

I took my favored calligraphy pen and wrote my name on the 'my name is..' tag. An acquaintance in the orphanage came up to me and exclaimed:

"How did you do that??"

"Classic calligraphy. Ah. How calming it is to execute lettering with a broad tip, in one fluid motion, for functional inscriptions, to fine-art pieces." I said with a infatuated tone for this topic.

" Or contemporarily defined as quote, 'the art of giving form to signs in an expressive, harmonious, and skillful matter'..unquote. A fiine-"

"I get it. Calligraphy. That's all you had to say."

"Actually, no. I wanted you to learn something at least. Learning about things are fun!"

"I don't think so. I'm mostly interested in looking pretty." I paused. I stared her down, directly at the irises. People these days irk me. Thinking that they can go through life with their looks; sickens me.

"It's because you rarely think." I said harshly. "I haven't seen you touch a book since you got here. Not that we take classes, which we do, but that still is no excuse for you."

"Ugh." And that, was her que. It was time to meet some people. Oh boy.

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After 30-45 minutes into Open House, there was no luck for little ol' me. I scanned the small room I was in the middle of. It reminds me of an interrogation room in shoes like NCIS, but a more subtle lighting, and wooden tables. Another example is in the movie, Meet the Robinsons. But nothing could halt my funk. No one wanted a weird, dense-hearted, ugly, freak-show like me. When I started losing hope, I heard some bizzare news.

"Hey Florence did you hear?!" Jessica said. I don't really know why she's so excited.

"What is it?" I said rather frightened. She frickin' came behind my chair and grabbed my shoulders!! I knew she did that on purpose....

"Do you know who Niall Horan is?!?!" I raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You really want me to answer that?" I condescendingly said.

"Of course not." Jessica said dragging the word 'of'.

"Well, who is he, an what does he have to do with this conversation??"

"He's part of the worldwide, most popular boy band in the world!"

"Oh god, here we go."

"One Direction."

"One Direction!!!" We said in unison. Except I, with less enthusiasm.

"He's coming to THIS ORPHANAGE to adopt someone!! And he's gonna pick me. You know why?! Because I'm pretty, smart, and perfect for him!!" Jessica acted as she was the best thing, especially for every member of One Direction, I believed that that was pure bullshit, with her stupid celesexual mental disorder.

"Oh, please. Like anyone would want your risible ass."

"I don't know what that mean-"

"I know. And I'm glad."

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"So what's your name sweetie?" A nice woman asked with her husband a hand.

"Florence. Florence Azalea."

"That's pretty!!" I was pretty irritated by the tone she was giving me.

"I'm 14. Not a puppy."

"We won't take that tone young lady."

"Ah, I see. Classic white tv family." They gasped. "Thinks they know what they're doing, kids run a muck, only source of punishment is 'grounding', where you take away property and they don't learn shit."

"STOP IT NOW!" She said.

"Sorry, I'm very opinionated."

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An hour of ten failed families later, I was pushed into a room with a shaggy haired, blue eyed boy. I could tell he had blue eyes because he was staring at me intensely.

I might've looked sturdy and put together, but on the inside I was shaking like a chihuahua. It's been like this with every family, and I think by now, it's showing prominently.

He had structural features on his face, but also had chiseled features smoothed, like how a sculptor would do that purposely. His face and neck were covered in miscellaneous freckles, big and small; thin pink lips, fanned out ears, and rosy cheeks.

I sat down and stared back.

"Hello." He said. -2∞+↑

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A/N: I'm bored -___-

Anyways, this was a REALLY short chapter, and I think this is a bad story. It's pretty cliche. Oh whale. Remember to vote and comment and all that lovely stuff plz!!!!

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Love ya💕 -2∞+↑