A Song to Remember (Zayn Malik Fan Fiction) very slow updates sorry

Chapter 1 - Remembering

Ava's POV

My fingers were numb and turning blue, but still i played on. The cold, steel strings buzzed against my skin as I shifted from chord to chord, stringing along the melody that always played through my mind. I never sang a word - I just gently hummed. 

I thought of all those nights with my father, drifting off to sleep in his arms as he sang this very song; his promise to me that he would never leave. I can barely remember his face - I was so young when he died; but his voice is still loud in my mind. That is all I have left of him aside from his old guitar that I play now, but I will treasure it forever. 

The street lamps began to turn on as the sky grew dark, and few people now walked by, not one even turning my way. I stared down at he few measly coins I had earned that night, but the emptiness of the case was nothing out of the normal. 

I watched a man close up his shop for the night, thinking of how he was probably heading home to sit with his kids by the fire and to set out the milk and cookies for Santa. I sighed as I thought about walking home to my probably empty apartment like any other night, spending yet another Christmas alone. 

The dark sky was thick with snow clouds in the cold, winter air. I began to shiver, and decided to pack it in for the night. I bent down to put my guitar away, only to see a pair of Vans step towards me. I turned my face up to meet a pair of sympathetic brown eyes looking down on me, the boys dark hair and eyelashes beginning to be dusted with snow. He held out his hand and placed in mine a crumpled 20 pound bill and another small object that i couldn't place, and with a stiff smile quietly said, "Merry Christmas." before he turned to walk away.

I watched him go, wondering why he had been so gracious.

"Zayn!"  I head someone call from off in the distance before he hurried his steps and disappeared; too far away to hear my whispered reply, 

"Merry Christmas..."

I looked down once more to see that the object lying in my hands was a small guitar pick with a tiny hole at the top, just big enough to fit around a chain. I shoved the boys gift inside my pocket with trembling fingers and walked into a nearby coffee shop to stifle the cold.

Paying with the money he had given me, I bought a tea and sipped on the warm liquid, picturing the boy's face clearly in my mind and I smiled. Maybe once, just once, this Christmas would be okay after all. Maybe.

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2 Years Later

So, I realized I should probably introduce myself: my name is Ava, I'm 16, and I live in Bradford, England. My father died 10 years ago in a car crash, and ever since that day my mother has practically disappeared. She's not often around, has trouble holding a job, but tries her best for us, even though it is rarely enough.

I spend every night busking in the street to try to raise some extra cash, and basically my music is the only thing that has kept me sane all these years. My dream has always been to become a musician and to leave this life behind, and that is why i stand here now wearing my X-Factor number in a crowd of thousands, doubting my luck.

I sit in the audience and watch the acts go by one by one, some blowing me away and others down right laughable. I fiddled with the guitar pick that hung by a chain around my neck and remember back to that Christmas Eve on the street, the pick being the only present I had gotten in years.

I took a shaky breath as I waited for the next name to be called, knowing that with each person it grew closer to me. The audience clapped at the last act, and my attention snapped towards the stage as i heard the name announced.