Having the X Factor: A One Direction FanFiction

Neon Lights

Hey hope you are liking it!!! tell me whatcha all think ok?

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I looked in the mirror. Blue was once again chalked into my long brown hair that had been temporarily bleached and colored for my performance.

"Thanks," I say to the woman doing my make up and she nods and smiles before walking over to get my outfit.

"You ready?" I jump a little as Ed shows up in the mirror behind me.

Smirking, I pulled on the leather jacket, "I was born ready," I say standing up and picking up the microphone he was holding out for me.

"And thanks...." I say to him while throwing my arms around his shoulders.

Ed chuckled before embracing me back, "No problem, Love," he says as he lets go of me, "knock 'em dead now."

A real smile broke across my face as my name was called by the stage manager. I walked out onto my platform and faced the wall as the music starts.

I spun around as I sang and lights started flashing and the crowd screamed.

I stole a glance at Harry as I threw my jacket into the crowd. All he did was stare at my exposed skin. The top that cut daringly low and extremely tight on my chest.

"Thank you," I say catching my breath as the music dies down.

"Well then," Lou says smiling at me, "honestly I'm amazed you put that altogether in one night..." I smiled and laughed a little.

"Truly amazing job," Niall says smiling, "I mean, the song is good but you just made it great."

"Thank you so much," I say smiling as the crowd cheered.

"I have to agree with Niall," Zayn says looking over at him, "I mean last week you did a good job with your performance but this one was really a song perfect for you, great job."

Liam looked over at the guys smiling, "They've left nothing to say!" he laughs and so do the others except for Harry.

"I didn't like it," he says slouching in his chair and crossing his arms.

The crowd went silent and the boys all turned to look at the crabby boy.

"I disagree with Zayn, this isn't you're song," he makes a face, "you're so much better than a tramp who runs around on stage half clothed like Miley Cyrus."

A few people gasped and I couldn't help but flinch a little, "And what your hair and body look like on stage don't matter, it's how well you preform and if you truly connect to the song."

As he finishes I smile, "T-thank you," I say before backing off the stage.

Did he just call me a slut...?

I heard a laugh, "Hey, Metal, did the hair dresser mix up the colors?"

I turned to the Bitch and smiled, "I dunno, did the spray tan machine blow up?"

She went dead silent and glared at me, "You are just jealous that he picked me," she smirked as the microphone was handed to her.

I laugh, "Maybe... but then again... if you're the kind of girl he likes, then I'm glad he didn't choose me."

The people backstage cleared their throats to cover the laughter, "Break a leg darling." I wave with my fingers before turning on my toe and walking to the stage doors as photographers snapped pictures and wrote on note pads.

"You're a freak!" she yells.

I turn, "Bitch please," I say smirking, "better call me whore too."

"And why is that?" she asks snootily.

"Because the other night when you were sleeping alone, I was fucking your boyfriend." I smile sweetly before blowing her a kiss and leaving.

That's right, I'm in charge here.