Louis: You buried your nose farther into your script for the play you were in. The large auditorium was silent, just the way you liked it. The only sound was the rustling of the turning pages as you scanned over your lines. You glanced off into a distant spot as you practiced your lines out loud. Your character's love interest was being played by the one and only Louis Tomlinson, the drama club king...or queen, and you wanted to make sure you could live up to his acting skills. In order to do that, you had to practice non stop for the upcoming play. "But Steven, I-" "You what?" you were surprised to find that another voice had joined you, filling in the empty part. Your head snapped around, coming face to face with the intruder. The very person you were trying to compare to. Louis. "Can I run lines with you?" He asked, a friendly smile grazing his lips. His blue eyes sparkled with something you couldn't quite put a finger on. Something that you couldn't just act. "Uh, yeah, sure." You answered, preparing yourself for your next line.
Niall: "Nice game on Friday, man," was all you seemed to hear throughout the entire day. Niall Horan, the star player of the football team, had an outstanding game the past Friday, causing the whole school to be in an uproar. "Great game, Niall..." One of the cheerleader's purred into his perked ear as you walked by. You made the smallest mistake to glance over in their direction. The crowd that Niall hung around were always picking on you for no apparent reason. Calling you names, pushing you around-but Niall never participated in their childish games, which caused you to grow fond of the Irish lad even though you had never really spoken before. "What are you looking at?" The girl spat, your flicked your gaze back to the ground beneath your feet feeling ashamed that you had been caught stealing a glance at Niall. "That's right, keep walking," She sneered at your back. Your grip on your books tightened as your ears perked to the sound of her bitchy voice whispering in Niall's ear. "God, she's so ugly. It hurts to look at her," You were always a little sensitive when people picked on you, but who could blame you? You were fed up. You swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to cry in front of them, but ended up making a dash to the bathroom instead. Your sobs drowned out the sound of Niall calling your name as he begged for you to stop.
Liam: The girl's to your right wouldn't stop talking during class, causing you to clench your jaw in annoyance. All you wanted to do was get through the day and that involved people to shut up so you could pay attention in class. But you weren't one to tell them to be quiet. No; instead you sat in silent sufferance as the girls continued to whisper about shoes. Your teacher finally spun around on her heels, marker in hand. "Alright, who's talking?" Finally. you thought to yourself. Maybe you could actually concentrate now. "It was (y/n)!" One of the girl's confessed, pointing a perfectly manicured finger in your direction. You let your jaw drop open in shock. "I wasn't talking-I swear!" You protested. The class snickered as your teacher glared at you. She didn't seemed convinced that you were innocent. "She was helping me, I had a question." The boy next to you fessed up. Your head turned in shock, coming face to face with a pair of kind chocolate brown eyes. The boy was familiar, but you just couldn't remember his name...Lyle? Lucas? "Is that true, Liam?" Ah, his name was Liam. Your teacher let a smile creep onto her slightly wrinkled face as she eyed her favorite student. "Yeah, that's it. I swear," Liam promised, returning her smile. Teacher's pet. "Alright then, but if you have a question, just ask me," She declared before returning her attention to the board. "Thanks," You whispered to Liam. He leaned over from the desk next to you, making sure he couldn't be over heard by your teacher. "Anytime."
Zayn: You stood outside after school. The one day your car breaks down, it decides to down pour. You huffed in annoyance as other kids rushed past you to get to their cars while trying to remain as dry as possible. None of them even offered to give you a ride home, of course they wouldn't. You were just that one dorky girl that nobody ever talked to...Within moments of standing out on the sidewalk, you were completely soaked to the bone. Your teeth chattered as you shivered, unable to warm back up again. The doors to get back into the school were already locked for the day, so you had no choice but to stand out in the rain. You dropped your bag next to you, plopping down on the sidewalk with a sigh. The raindrops drummed against the black top of the parking lot in a steady beat. "Why are you just sitting out here in the rain?" A thick British accent rang through the air. You lifted your gaze, trying to shield your eyes from the millions of tiny droplets, but it was no use. You met eyes with Zayn Malik. The school bad boy...or at least that's what his reputation was. Rain drops dropped off his chin onto his school varsity jacket, and his eyes met yours with...kindness? "Uh, My car broke down," You admitted shamefully, averting your eyes from his gaze. "Oh," He breathed out. Your soaked hair fell in front of your eyes like a curtain, and you brushed it away thoughtlessly. "Do you need a ride?" Zayn extended a hand down to you, willing you to take it. Why was Zayn Malik being so nice to you? Wasn't he supposed to be some big jerk or something? Even though you had never had a conversation with him, you had your assumptions about him based on his reputation. You reached out for his hand, taking it reluctantly. "Thanks," Zayn smiled as he pulled you up from your perch on the ground, and you returned it shyly. Little did you know that Zayn was feeling quite proud of himself, not only because he had finally gotten up enough courage to talk to you-but he also knew that he was the reason behind that beautiful smile.
Harry: You scanned the lunch room looking for a place to sit. Your friends had just recently 'kicked you out' of their little group, proving to you that they weren't ever your friends at all. You suddenly felt betrayed and alone...There was no way anyone would want to sit by you. You were badly mistaken: Harry sat on the other side of the lunch room, sitting by tons of people, but also feeling alone. These people weren't his friends. He needed a real friend...someone like you. His eyes trailed after you as you sat at an empty table, picking mindlessly at your food. You spun your fork in the unappealing spaghetti as you rested your chin in the palm of your other hand. The lunch room echoed with laughs and chatter as other people socialized with their friends...making you feel even more uncomfortable. Harry stood up from his table, grabbing his tray with him. His 'friends' called after him, asking him where he was going, but he had his mind set on one thing. "Can I sit here?" You looked up to see the hottest boy in school, Harry Styles, standing before you, his tray just inches from the table. "Uh...Yeah, sure" your cheeks flushed. You always had a crush on the famous flirt. His green eyes wrinkled as he smiled kindly at you. "Why would you want to sit with me?" You finally asked after a couple moments of silence. Harry's gaze met yours with ease, he didn't even hesitate with his answer. "I'm tired of having those fake friends. I figured I could use a real one for once,"
