la fleur (l.h & m.c)

1. "Call me Izzy."

This is my very first story so please go easy! Thanks a lot and let me know what you think and if I shoud keep going!

Isabelle was visiting her best friend, Abby in Los Angeles. It was late at night, but Isabelle knew her friend would let her stay with her. It was, after all, only for a weekend. When Isabelle knocked on the apartment door she heard a lot of rustling and yelling, moving around. When she saw her best friend open the door, she stood back to take her in. Her tousled long hair was dyed a blonde that looked unbelievably strange compared to the usual red. Abby's face was plastered in more makeup than she'd ever seen on someone, it actually looked slightly scary. Her friend was wearing an impossibly short skirt and a bright pink shirt that didn't do her any favors, it just showed a lot of cleavage which, to Isabelle, wasn't a favor. Abby's face was sweating and suddenly her blue eyes gleamed with understanding. Isabelle knew what Abby was doing, she heard the deep voice of a man in Abby's apartment.

"Isabelle. Wha-." Abby paused, contemplating the disgust on Isabelle's face. "You've become one of them Abb's." Isabelle whispered so quietly that she could hardly hear herself, but Abby had heard her. "Look, Izzy, I know you have every reason to hate me but-"  

"Screw you Abby."  Isabelle spat so harshly that she surprised herself. Isabelle dropped the present at Abby's doorstep, turned and left. The echo of her friend calling out to her was like some sick kind of way to get Isabelle to return to her friend. But she was too smart for that. Abby had become what they had hated all their lives. Attention seeking cheerleaders that killed for a shot at prom queen and slept with the quarterback, to put it stereo-typically. Isabelle  remembered the freckled, blue eyed, red-headed girl that loved Jane Austen, Billie Holiday and baseball. The hypocrisy of it all disgusted her. Abby would claim that the bitches in our school were pathetic and she would rather die than become one. One month in L.A and that girl was gone. Abby had caught up to her, "Please."  She pleaded, placing her hand on Isabelle's shoulder. The tone of her voice was so sincere that it reminded Isabelle of the day they truly became friends.

It was their first day of High School. At lunchtime and the 'bitches' were teasing poor friendless Abby because of her braces and Abby was pleading for them to stop. "please', 'leave me alone', 'why're you being so mean' she kept saying. Isabelle was sitting at the bleachers, reading, when she heard the crying and cruel laughter. Isabelle stepped in and told Annabelle Moore to leave Abby alone. After that, they might as well have been conjoined twins. Those friendships in the movies that are so perfect and just between two, that was what it was, just more realistic.

Isabelle said nothing to Abby. She didn't turn to look at her. She just ran for the elevator. Seeing it closing, she just yelled out, "ELEVATOR!!!!"  Thankfully, a hand stopped the doors from closing and Isabelle slipped in, not even catching a last glimpse of Abby. She turned to her rescurers to thank them and was extremely shocked. The first thing she noticed was they were all very tall. At least 6 ft. Each. Being 5'2, Isabelle felt insignifigant. They were also extremely good looking. The closest one to her was wearing a Nirvana t-shirt (which impressed Isabelle) he had jet black hair, tanned skin, plump lips and gorgeous brown eyes, he looked kind of shy. The next one had curly brown hair, hazel eyes and was smiling at her flashing dimples, that smile made her smile. Yeah, it was that kind. The lone blonde stood beside him, his hair styled in a tall quiff, he had extremely blue eyes, it was like they went right through her and he had a very hot lip ring, also, notably the tallest. The last one had dyed bright red hair, pale skin, green eyes and pink lips that she couldn't stop staring at. Isabelle felt like she'd seen them before. All of them.

The curly haired one stood forward as the elevator moved down. He held out his hand to Isabelle as he said in an undeniably Australian accent, "Ashton Irwin."  She took his hand and shook it, surprised at his formality. Normally in elevators it's a quiet awkward. This was the rare vocal kind. "Isabelle La Fleur." She repiled politely, despite the incident with Abby still buzzing in her mind. "Cool name. Nice to meet you," Ashton continued. "This is my band. They're Calum, Luke and Michael. Sorry they're so quiet, they're not used to being around such pretty girls." Automatically, she blushed. Not used to compliments. "Nice to meet you too. Thanks for holding the door."

"No problem." Calum burst out, Australian too. Isabelle figured he held the door, she smiled acknowledging him. She sighed, "Okay. I don't mean to come across as rude, but are you all Australian?" They all nodded. "Yay! Finally, cause Iv'e been waiting forever to know this, but because you're in the southern hemisphere, what are your Christmas cards like? Do they have snow and stuff or is it just like kangaroos with santa hats?"

They all burst out laughing, and she couldn't help but feel her cheeks warm up. "That was a serious question," she whispered embarassed. "Okay, uh," Luke started, but Michael interrupted him. "Don't listen to Luke. Both. We get like Santa surfing and like snow scenes too."

"Ohmigod! Thank you so much that has been bothering me for weeks." Michael laughed this cute laugh flashing amazing, perfect white teeth. The elevator jerked and Isabelle grabbed on to the wall. The lights flickered. "What-" Luke began, but he didn't have time to finish before the lights went off and the elevator fell and gravity pulled Isabelle to the ground, right on top of Michael. "Is everyone ok" Ashton's voice yelled out in concern for his band. Calum and Luke replied with 'fine' and 'yep'. Michael however, was groaning from underneath Isabelle. Calum had pulled out the flashlight from his iphone and was laughing his head off. Isabelle rolled off Michael and saw the problem, his hand were clutching his privates. "You crushed my balls." He groaned, rolling on his side. The only one not laughing was Michael himself.

"Will you be okay, Isabelle?" Luke asked in between laughter.

"I'll be fine. I'm not hurt if that's what you mean. And call me Izzy."