this is the first time i've updated in like almost four months so feel free to backtrack x
[Joey]
After the long a.ss day out of the house, Joey was pleased that everything was over and she could spend time just staying in her room and maybe lying in bed. She was ridiculously tired, and all she wanted at that moment was to be alone and just chill.
She laid on her bed, recalling what had happened the entire day she was out. It was a bit more eventful than what she had wanted, but maybe it was just because there were two guys around, excluding her father and Mr. Malik.
It wasn't often that Joey's thoughts lingered on a guy. Sure, it was normal to have crushes on guys. What wasn't normal was Joey simply thinking of a guy she was sure she didn't accustom a liking to. Zayn definitely wasn't one of the guys she wanted to get to know, he was pretty much a cranky, sarcastic douchebag.
But for a slight moment when Zayn ran after her, it seemed that he was just like anyone else. For a little sliver of a second, he felt nice to be around.
No matter how much he did seem nice to be with, Joey knew that she couldn't get too comfortable with him. She wasn't overreacting when she said she had really bad luck with guys. The experience of meeting guys consecutively and all of them ending up with something bad happening is quite traumatizing. It would be quite a shame if she ended up liking the guy and something two or three times worse happened to him.
Out of nowhere, waves of inspiration seemed to take over Joey and she knew what she had to do. Chances like these just couldn't be passed up on, so she decided to throw on her smock, turn up some music, and get painting. Most people didn't understand why artists always had to put their feelings onto their works, but Joey found out the moment she tried out her hand at painting.
When one feels any kind of strong, compulsive emotion, they feel the urge to tell another person about what they had experienced. Like when you're sad and you just need to let it out, you tell another person so that you don't just keep everything to yourself. That's kind of like what artists do, but they put their stories into what they do, letting the art reflect the experience out into the world.
The key to Joey's art looking good was simple and there was only one thing she had to remind herself of: perfectionism leads to imperfections. She would always let her heart and her hand take over, but she never forgot to bring her head with her. It wasn't long ago that she realized that her little rule applied to actually everything else as well, which is why she didn't waste any time and effort into making a relationship with any guy perfect. She had learned from her past mistakes.
Looking at her current artwork, Joey sighed. "This is the work of a hopeless romantic, strange."
"I really don't get how you art people can tell what a person feels just looking at what they painted and shi.t like that," a voice popped out from behind, startling the girl.
"What the hell are you doing in my room?!"
"Your dad left his house keys in the meeting room, I offered to give them back," Zayn let himself in, ignoring Joey's protests as he plopped on the love seat in front of her bed.
The girl took off her smock in annoyance, turning the easel around so Zayn had nothing more to piss on about. "Returning my dad's keys is irrelevant to being in my room, so could you get the hell out?"
"Damn, Joey," Zayn snickered, standing up. "You're cool. I look forward to seeing you soon."
And with that, he was out the door.
Joey's thoughts were all over the place. Zayn's presence wasn't something that she wanted nor expected. His sudden appearance made her head spin, and she was honestly pissed as f.uck. It was as if he had materialized from her thoughts into the real world, but she knew that didn't actually happen.
Not being able to handle how hard her head was hurting, Joey decided to step outside onto the balcony, overlooking the skyline she had grown to love. Turns out, her head just started to hurt even more.
He was still there.
"Zayn! What the hell is wrong with you?" Joey crossed her arms. "What makes you think it's okay to just stay here, this isn't your house!"
Zayn didn't seem to be fazed by her words. "Glad you asked, your father actually said I can hang around because I 'must be tired from all the moving around today,' so here I am, on the balcony, with you."
"Are you purposely trying to f.uck around with me?" she groaned. "I don't think this is funny, but clearly you're enjoying this."
The boy just smirked and looked away. She sighed and diverted her attention to the sunset happening right before her. It was quite a refreshing sight in comparison to the goon standing right next to her. The sunset seemed to have caught his eye, so they stood together watching the day turn to night.
"How you're feeling towards me is pretty much how I feel everyday," Zayn broke the silence. "It's kinda funny seeing someone else share my sentiments."
Joey scoffed. "Clearly, you can't even talk to your own brother without rolling your eyes."
She bit her lip in a state of anxiety, going deep into thought. Once again her mind had drifted over to her older brother. Maybe that was why Joey was more annoyed with Zayn than with other people, because he just reminded her of the loss of her brother. It really was something she didn't like thinking about, but she couldn't help it when Zayn seemed to be a walking misdemeanor when it came to treating Niall.
"You can't just judge me like I'm the worst person on the planet for not wanting to be around that ray of sunshine," he took a few steps away from Joey.
"Um, judgment is human nature, sorry but I can't help it," she pointed out. "And what did Niall possibly do to make you dislike him?"
"Exactly," Zayn muttered. "I'll be going now, and don't expect this to be the last of me."
Zayn spun around and walked out the door, leaving Joey in slight confusion. She sighed and looked up at the sky, attempting to catch any glimpse of the stars in the stars. But of course, it was New York City. There was no way in hell she was going to see any stars with all the damn city lights all over the place.
Joey went back to her room, clearly exhausted from the encounter with Zayn. Her head filled with thoughts about how the feeling of his presence was ever-changing. She sat down on the ottoman at the foot of her bed and noticed a piece of paper next to where she was seated. Joey read it, scoffing afterwards because Zayn had left his number there on the note, telling her to text him.
It was funny how his presence made her head simply spin. It was even funnier because Joey had realized the feeling was a bit addicting.
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this is the most boring chapter ever im so sorry
thank you for 3k!!! i promise i'll be updating this more often and hey new cover haha
pls don't be a silent reader aye kbye x
