Zoe POV
November 1st
Saturday 2am
I was doing my very best to avoid the paparazzi but they were still following me. My hotel was on the next corner but it seems so damn far away.
I ran to the entrance and yelled Joe to stop my stalkers.
"Are you okay Miss O'Donoghue?" He asked me while I leaned to the wall to catch my breath
"Yeah I'm fine" I took a deep breath and made my way through the elevator
I was done with New York, I'll probably take a plane to California, even more because that One sort of Direction kinda band is playing here tomorrow and I'm sure those stupid boys will stay in the same hotel as I do. Every damn time it's like that, I'm traveling around the globe and end up in the same hotel as theirs. Fucking karma.
I slide the plastic card and open the door, took my ankle boots off and jumped on the bed. The best part of being homeless is that I can make a huge mess and someone will clean my room, besides there's no 'get home' drama.
Thankfully Daddy doesn't care what the hell I'm doing, he just keeps my bank account filled up. It's kinda hard to live under my family expectation, mostly because I don't do anything they want. I don't live in Manhattan with them, neither work on Daddy's office.
I think they prefer to keep me away, avoid the problem. I mean, I'm still a big trouble but they don't need to keep the bomb on their hands just waiting it to blow up.
Mom hates that I threw up my model career. I hated that life. Hated those skinny pretentious girls. I don't need to work to have money, so why the hell should I?
Well, I'm 20 and should be doing something more useful with my life rather then just mess around and make first page on the tabloids. But I can't help it. Not that I like being every weekend's news, which I don't. I hate this life, being chased by paparazzi and have people screaming my name.
I mean, I'm not a singer, neither an actress. Currently I'm designing clothes and that's all, but teenage girls seem to dig my life style. Or maybe the guys I date. But still, they try to be like me, they just don't know how messed up it is to be me.
3am
I still can't sleep. My insomnia is even worst this time. My head is aching and I'm feeling suffocate inside this room. I roll out of the bed and put my silver dress on, feeling it's hem in the middle of my up thigh. Wear my black ankle boots and grab my leather jacket, it's winter so outside must be cold. Pick up my purse on the counter and leave my hotel room.
Just when I close the door, my phone rings inside my bag. I grab it and walk down the hallway while reading the new text I got.
*Are you up? Meet me in front of Starbucks, I got pot* Gabi says
I was beginning to reply her when I bump into someone. The stranger held my body wrapping his hand around my waist, avoiding me to crush onto the floor.
"Sorry!" I snap before opening my eyes. I couldn't feel my phone on my hand. It must be on the floor.
"It's okay, love." The low yet sexy British voice said. Of course I knew who was it. There's just one disgusting human being that calls me 'love' just because I hate.
Harry Styles.
