I continue to drive, slamming the glovebox shut as I do so. The excitement of spending today with Niall- doing all of this- it makes me laugh like a maniac, and my foot pressed on the gas pedal, the car zooming past the small residential estates and olde english things I don't care to understand. I come upon Niall's new house- well, his friend's house. I've never met him. He didn't go to our school, and every time Niall had rehearsal, he just wasn't there. So they rarely had their main vocalist on track with them. Their band is called Behind Closed Doors, and it consists of Niall- who plays bass and guitar, Zayn (I think that's his name) who does lead vocals and if they need to, piano. Then there's their percussionist, Alex. He's very quiet, and we've never actually had a full conversation. I turn my car into a large patch of asphalt that is apparently all their property. Zayn apparently bought this rundown pub, and then made it liveable. The only thing he kept was the darkness and the reclusive location- as well as the actual bar. Apparently it still works. There's no other cars back here, so I presume Alex won't be joining us. No matter. I open the car door, grabbing my hand bag and the bag of marihuana, stuffing that under my shoulder. I grab my phone and my keys, then slam the door shut with my shoes, careful to make sure the heel of them doesn't dent my door. I scurry to the back door, and see Niall sitting on the main part of a drum set, holding the wooden sticks in his hands, laughing. I observe that he's gotten a new tattoo and he's gone up a gauge size. I roll my eyes. He's just so hardcore- in his mind. Another figure comes into play, and he's fucking hot. Great cheekbones, great figure, great eyes, and that complexion... And yes, he destroyed his ears with those idiotic things- his are tunnels, for god's sake! And yeah, he's got tattoos, but his are a lot more... Innocent. He sees me in the door, and makes his way over, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. He's got such scruff I feel as if I'm going to break down from being around such an attractive guy. He opens the door.
"Are you Victoria?" He asks, his voice deep- he's obviously not from Yorkshire. Essex, maybe. Or Bradford.
"Yeah." I reply, "Niall's friend." I wave at Niall. From the other end of the room.
"Yeah. He talks about you all the time." He chuckles, studying the bag under my shoulder. "Is that...?" He looks dead into my eyes, that beautiful rich colour burning into my eyes. I'm speechless.
"Y-yeah. Yeah, it is." I finally manage to get out. I pull it from my grasp, and place it in his hands.
"Thanks, love." Love! Zayn- the hottest guy I've ever seen- just called me love. Crap. Don't blush, Victoria..."Come in, Ah... Victoria." He holds the door for me. As I step in, the stench of stale beer and cigarettes hits me like a ton of bricks. I cough slightly, eyes studying the stains on the carpet, and the amount of freaking bongs on the bar. Niall jumps from his position and hugs me.
"Hey, Vic." He says as we hug, his Irish accent making his dialogue just that much harder to understand. "I missed ya!"
"Yeah, we haven't seen each other since jail." I tease.
"Jail?" Asks Zayn as he tears open the package. "What the hell were you doing in jail?"
"I ah... I was high and we were driving from her little sister's graduation party to her house, and we were pulled over and arrested for drug possession and driving whilst both under the influence and intoxicated." Zayn looks at me in disbelief, eyes wide, mouth in a small O.
"You were arrested for that? You seem more like an innocent schoolgirl than one to drive while drunk and high." He leans against the bar, arms crossed. I bite my lip.
"I um... I was just a little buzzed. Not high. My high had worn off before the party."
"Well, at least I know that you won't freak out the minute Niall and I tart this stuff." He laughs. "Seriously, we've brought girls here after gigs who start to scream like we're going to murder them." He rolls his eyes. "It's a plant."
