Get Outa My Head : A One Direction Fan Fiction

Part 1

Allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Rebecca and I am addicted to Twitter.  I am also an insomniac.  For some reason when I can’t sleep I wind up tweeting famous people in hopes I’d get a reply.  I don’t know why it is so important for me to get noticed by someone who doesn’t know me.  It probably goes back to some childhood psychology mumbo jumbo.  I do know this, though, I do think I am pretty awesome and I just wish the rest of the world thought so too.

I was bullied as a kid all the way through high school which has left me with non-existent self esteem.  I am way too hard on myself to be perfect.  The best part of my personality is I like to make people laugh.  I sure am shy though, always have been.  My mom always tells me the story of when I started pre-school and they asked her if I could talk.

I’ve been at my “night stalking” (which is what I’ve been calling my celebrity tweets) for about a year now and haven’t gotten a single reply until right this moment.  I usually start out with something like ‘it’s 4am here and I can’t sleep’ and I send to any famous person I’m following that is tweeting as well.

Just as I was going to put my phone down and try to sleep I got a notification that I’ve gotten a twitter mention.  I open up the app and there it is. ‘@ zaynmalik tell me about it. I can’t sleep either’

I’m not used to getting responses so I don’t know what to say.  The chances of getting two replies in one night are just…I probably have a better shot winning the lottery.  I think to myself score one point for me, I finally got an answer.  Can’t wait to play again tomorrow night.

So I’m trying not to let the fact that I got a response go to my head.  Sometimes my amazing creativity gets the best of me and I daydream about becoming best friends with one of them and I get to hang out and be cool.  I quickly bring myself to reality sitting in my small one bedroom apartment alone.  It’s just me and my thoughts in here and that could get pretty scary.

During the day after only 2 hours of sleep I go out and try to get myself out there.  I don’t have a “real job”, I do freelance photography.  If you ask me I’d tell you I’m amazing, the best photographer out there.  If you ask anyone else they’d tell you I’m nothing special, just like all the rest.  Every day I go out in search of what could make me stand out.  Every time I think I have a unique vision it’s either already been done or is being done.  I won’t settle.  I am determined to be more than this.

After a long day of going out and taking pictures of children in playgrounds (totally given consent by the parents I’m not some creep) I find myself in front of my laptop on twitter.  Most of the time I just read through the feeds.  I reply when I feel I have something funny to say.  I always throw in my random thoughts here and there hoping to get retweeted but barely do.  I see Zayn has tweeted again.  ’Stop copying my sleep schedule. By that I mean none.’ I chuckle to myself, I always make me laugh.

This time I get a response back quicker than last time. ‘@ zaynmalik I’m on a bumpy tour bus, what’s your excuse?’

Oh he wants to play it like that does he?  I have no idea what that means but it sounds dramatic, doesn't it?  I have to come up with a good reply.  ’I have an over active brain. Won’t stop thinking.’

Lame.  I feel gross having just typed that.  I wait a while for a response but get nothing back.  I wasn’t really expecting one.  Even if he had read it, I wouldn’t have replied to that garbage either.  I decide to call it a night and try to sleep.  I don’t get anywhere but I stay in bed letting my mind drift off to a land where Zayn Malik and I are friends.