We Are The Same - Niall Horan FanFiction

Chapter 1: Yasmin Malik

Hey lovelies! I’m not French or anything but I like to use the word ‘moi’ a lot. It sounds a lot more special than ‘me’, in my opinion. Anyway, my name is Yasmin Malik. I’m just about to say my complete name but there’s no need to bother with details. I mean, who needs details about a no one like me? Anyone will probably go into details if we’re talking about my cousin – Zain or Zayn or whatever. And yes, you heard it right – or read right, if you say so. The one and only Zayn Malik of One Direction is my frigging cousin.

 It’s not like I hate him or anything. But that doesn’t mean I love him to bits. We’re just not that close. I was born in Pakistan. My parents are both Pakistani but I never saw my father. My mother raised me on her own instead. When I was ten, my mum and I converted from being Muslim to being Christians. We later moved to England. Mum bought a house in Bradford near Zayn’s family’s.

 Good thing, no one knows that mum and I are related to Zayn – except for family, of course. I mean, no one will ever put my name and my mother’s in his bio because we’re just not known by anybody. I can go on with life without his fans following me where ever I go.

 I’m sixteen and I’m just about to spend my entire summer vacation with my mum before I go to college. I’m planning on being a writer and I want to major in English. I can imagine myself teaching at school as my full-time job and writing stories at my free time.

 Anyway, I have a girl band. There are six of us and we’re called Riot Blue. I’m the one who came up with it. We first became a band back when I was thirteen. We auditioned for a talent show but we’re rejected because we didn’t have any background music on. What they didn’t know was that we’re trying to be an A Capella group but I guess we just didn’t have enough skills that time. We were so into practicing for that audition that we still sang and sang even though the talent show itself was over. So, we made a video of us singing and posted it on YouTube instead. Since then, we became web stars for making covers of chart-topping songs.

 Just recently, a guy named Rob Murray discovered us and got us to sign a record label with Universal Music Group. I guess, we’re taking a huge step towards fame. But we don’t really intend to become famous in the first place. We just want to do what we want to do and receive positive feedbacks. If we ever get famous – well, who are we to refuse? I guess, that’ll be a bonus for all of us.

My phone rings and I look around my room to search for it. I try to follow the sound but then I realize it’s just under the sheets. I peel my sheets away and look at the phone. It’s Meg. Speaking of Meg, she’s my best friend and my fellow band mate.

 “Hello?” I say as I answer the phone.

 “You won’t believe this!” she screams over the phone. What the hell is she excited about? Just like that, as if she can hear what my mind is saying, she answers my unspoken question. “A radio wants us to sing on air!”

 “They want us to sing while we’re in a plane?” I say. But, of course, I know what she means.

 “No, silly! What I mean is –“

 “No, I know exactly what you mean. But you just made it sound like we’re actually going to sing while we’re floating in the air,” I say.

 “Very funny, Malik,” she says with no emotion.

 “I know, right? Hahaha, I’m the funniest person alive! I’m so darn funny that every pissing asshole in the world are currently peeing in their pants! Hahaha,” I say in a sarcastic tone.

 “Stop that – or at least, lower your voice down! My aunt is giving me weird looks!” she screams.

 “Easy, girl. Don’t you think my mum can’t hear me? She does but she just don’t give me a hell about it. I mean, I may be mean when it comes to words but I really am a good kid,” I manage to say without laughing.

 “Anyway, why am I the last one to know about us singing in the radio?” she asks in an annoyed tone.

 I laugh. “I don’t know why it always happens to you.”

 “Do you know when we’re going to the radio station?” she asks me.

 “This coming Saturday. So, only two days to go. Today’s Wednesday, right?”

 “Yep.”

 “So…when we gon’ chill?” I say, copying the guy on YouTube who has a blog.

 She laughs over the phone.

 “No, seriously, I want to go out.”

 “Call the others. I’m coming with you,” she says.

 “Alright,” I say. “I’ll see you later.”

 “Yeah, bye.”

 “Laters,” I say, copying ‘Christian Grey’ from Fifty Shades of Grey.

  Meg laughs and hangs up.

 I toss my phone in the bed and go to the bathroom to take a shower. After that, I dry myself and hang my towel on the back of the chair. I go to my closet and pick out my usual metal-black jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. I match it with my navy blue converse and some hand-made bracelets and a watch.

 I put my phone and money in my jeans’ pocket and head out of my room. I skip down the stairs and say to my mum, “Mum, I’m going out.”

 “Where you going?” she asks me, her eyes on the TV.

 “I’m just going to my friend’s house,” I say. Even though I’m famous all over the internet and got a record deal, I still feel like a normal teenager who needs to ask her mum whether she can leave the house or not.

 “Okay. Be careful and be back early,” she says.

 “Yeah, I will.” I walk to the couch and lean in to give my mum a kiss on the cheek. “Bye mum.”

 “Bye. Remember what I always tell you?”

 I smile. “’No boyfriends yet because I’m still a baby’ – of course mum, I’ll keep that in mind.”

 I walk to the door and head out of the house.