"I'd date a fan." » h.s.

17. Thoughts

Naomi's POV

It's been 11 days since the day we first arrived here in London. Exactly nine days since I accidentally met the Harry Styles in The London Eye. Six days since my awkward meeting with the boys in our hotel floor hallway. Three days since my tea 'date' with Harry and first concert ever. And exactly two days since my 'blast from the past' opening-up session with Zayn.

Wow.

In just a span of two weeks I already have countless of unforgettable memories with the people I never have imagined of spending my vacation with.

Anne Osborne and Ronny Evans, Radio101x's djs and also the main cause as to why I am where I am right now, have been checking up on us like two over-protective parents to their 13-year-old daughters. While talking to Anne on Skype, I've learned that their radio show has officially been shut down, after years of successful airing.

Up to now, I still wonder why they would spend so much money on some random people they haven't even met yet. They keep on reminding me that they appreciate their loyal fans and all and just want to give back but it just doesn't seem to fit the puzzle.

Is it really all just pure luck?

My stepdad, Noah, insisting on tagging Phoebe along with me so I wouldn't be all alone in a foreign country; Anne and Ronny picking me in their Twitter contest, also booking us in such high-class hotels and giving us tickets to 1D concerts; the boys being so down-to-earth and so approachable.

Gosh. This all just seems so surreal. So unreal that I think all these 'luck' will be gone in a snap. My ancestors say that, "Too much laughter or happiness will later lead you to non-stop tears in your eyes." Isn't that just great. I don't particularly believe in such sayings or superstitions but I think now's the time to panic a bit.

Having my father die in a car accident at the age of six should never be experienced by anyone ever. I have not only lost a father, but I also temporarily lost my mum. She went into the phase of crying herself to sleep, indenial, then pure anger. There was even a time when she slapped the living shit out of me just because I forgot to put my toy back in the rightful container (mind you, I was still six at that time, all my concern was put towards my play things and Barney shows on tv). Of course she regret what she did and told me she was sorry and I immediately just brushed it off.

But with that being said, I had to grow up fast. Seeing my mother not putting that much care into me anymore I had to take care of myself often. With her working her ass off at a local bar, practically working 12 hours straight a day, I didn't have much of a choice. Most of the times Phoebe would come over and we'd watch movies until we fall asleep. That's been going on for another six years, until Noah came into our lives. Mum started going home later than usual, but I could always see a touch of glow in her face every time she comes through our front door.

But one time she had company with her, and I see a six-foot tall white-bearded man enter our house with my mother. And that's where it all started. Noah acted as my long-gone father. I was 13 back then and that was kind of the time of rebellion, but he didn't let anything get inside my immature little head. He told me his experiences when he was younger, just so I wouldn't experience the mistakes he did when he was my age.

But too late for that. Up until the incident in the love department back in highschool, I kinda lost it. Like really really lost it. As I've mentioned to Zayn the other night, I got into the state of depression. Not even Phoebe could light up my dark world.

Having to lose your virginity with the guy you thought you knew inside-out, it breaks my heart. He was my first love, guys. And mind you, I was a traditional person. I always opposed on pre-marital sex, but when you're in that moment, that moment when you think you wanted that guy to share the most intimate experience one could ever have with a person with you, you just lose all common sense and all you could listen to at that moment is your heart.

Oh, and I was also a judge-a-book-by-its-cover-kind-of-person before. When I see tatts, I instantly back away from the person. When I smell alcohol, no thanks. And when I see people smoking, I just think, ew.

Well look who's talking now. I don't have tattoos, by the way, but all the other stuff, I have experienced. And I have to say, I feel a lot better. Experiencing that heartbreak, I felt stronger. Going out with friends at night, drinking, it made me braver. Smoking like there's no tomorrow, it made me wiser. Maybe most of you won't agree with me but frankly, I don't give a shit about what you people think. I am Naomi Chelsea Rogers, and I can do whatever the fuck I want. People judging are just people who don't have a thing to do, so I feel bad for you.

All that being said, I still don't get what the fuck I did to deserve all these things. It literally feels like everything's being handed down to me on a silver platter. Will all these last? Have I finally found my silver lining? Or will I just repeat history and go back home, feeling somehow low about myself, regret [again] written in permanent ink on my forehead, and yet again feeling so unwanted by every single person on this planet?

Ugh. I think I need some sleep.

~

A/N:

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