Fixed On You - New Hope Club Fanfiction

Chapter 2

Voices screaming and laughing wake me up from the sleep I never meant to fall into. I look around me and don't recognise the place. I'm surrounded by concrete. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, everything about this room is concrete. There's a really misplaced couch against the wall opposite of me. It looks way too luxurious comparing to all the concrete. Next to it stands a table with a lot of sweets and a mirror above it. A quick look beside me makes me notice that I'm sitting by the side of another misplaced couch. Only this one is covered with clothes, mostly flowery shirts. Against another wall stands a rack with more clothes. I see some black trousers, another flowery shirt and - surprise - another shirt.

I start laughing about the fact that whoever lives here is major obsessed with shirts, when I figure out that I still don't know where I am. I stop laughing as fast as I started and feel a little panic attack coming up.

Where the hell am I?

Then all of the memories of last night come back. The fight with my father. The glass he threw at me. How I ran away and ended up here. How could I forget?

While I'm still in shock because of what happened, the voices that woke me up keep getting closer. There are at least three of them, maybe four. I can't quite figure it out, but before I get the chance, the door opens up and the people the voices belong to enter the room. Four pairs of eyes look at me like I'm a homeless that snug into their house to find shelter. I can't blame them, since they're kind of right.

My heart skips a beat. I am not allowed to be here. I creeped into their house! What would they be thinking of me? What are they gonna do with me? Do I need to say anything? Like why I randomly showed up in their home?

"Security!" screams one of them, a guy with long, brown hair in a bun who is obviously older than the other three. I think he's eight years older, maybe nine. The other three guys look around nineteen, twenty.

Shit.

That doesn't sound good. First of all because he doesn't even ask why I'm here and screams for security like it's a normal thing that runaway girls appear in their... whatever this room is supposed to be. And second of all... well... THE  FACT THAT HE HAS THE DAMN SECURITY! No normal person has security.

I AM SCREWED!

Please say that he and the other guys just have really rich parents who think it's necessary for their kids to have security and that they're not really important people. I don't care who those parents are, just let them be rich enough to pay that security. Please.

"No, no, it's alright. She's with us," says one of the other boys, the one with darkbrown hair. I take him in accurately. From the hair pieces falling into his face, covering his deep, brown eyes to the tip of his leather shoes. He's wearing a denim jacket and simple, black jeans. Around his fingers shine some rings and his wrists are covered with a watch and a few bracelets.

That he's wearing jewelery means he or his parents are rich, right? Or am I just making up crazy theories to avoid the fact that these people might be really important, like famous people? Anyway, I can't deny that he is one of the most handsome people I've ever seen.

Why did he say that?

"Are you sure?" asks the guy with the bun. You can see on his face that he doesn't believe a word of it and never will. He just wants to be sure that the boy knows where he's getting himself into.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure," he says with a tiny smile.

"If you say so." Bun guy raises his hands and leaves the room.

"Why did you do that? Who are you? What are you gonna do with me?" The questions keep rolling over my tongue. I look at him as confident as I can, so that he won't see that I'm actually terrified.

"Wow, calm down. We just want to help you. You look like you can use it." He squats down in front of me and looks me right in the eyes, which gives me chills. His dark brown eyes are really beautiful and have little sparkles in them, but they are taking me in in a way that I don't like. Like I'm a hopeless, lost puppy.

I start looking at the other two, because I don't want to look at the person right in front of me and he's way too close.

The other guys are both blonde and really good-looking. One of them, the tallest with bright, green eyes, looks at what's happening in front of him like it's a TV show. The first thing I notice about him are his small, weird shaped ears. Like someone attached them on his head upside down. I look at the tiger painting on his black sweater. Artistic.

The other - blue-eyed - one who is wearing a red jumper just stares at the wall.

"Eh..." I try to stand, but my legs are not strong enough to carry me and I fall down again. The dark-haired boy reaches out his hands to catch me. Instead of thanking him, I slap away his hands and take a few steps further from him.

"'Thank you' would've been enough." He smiles, so he isn't angry.

I look at him, trying not to show any emotion. I reckon I fail badly at the last thing.

"You ran away, didn't you?" he asks nicely, still smiling a bit. I answer with an expressionless face. 

"Where are you from?" he says.

I press my lips together. He doesn't have to know anything about me. Nothing. I have no idea who he is.

"You do speak English, right?" He must be confused because I'm not answering. I decide to at least reply to that one question.

"Yes." I am surprised about how raspy my voice sounds an clear my throat.

"Do you want us to help you?" he asks with a serious face.

Yes. "No."

"Why not?"

Because I'm afraid. "Because I don't need any help." I try to say it kindly, but it comes out bitchier than I meant it to.

"Then can you at least tell us how you ended up in our dressing room?" he says, whilst laughing a little.

Dressing room? I'm in a dressing room? This underappreciated, badly desgined place is a dressing room?

"I... I... Eh..." I mumble. "Eh... Yes, I might have run away... Maybe." I start looking at my shoes, because I can't look any of them in the eyes right now. My brand new All Stars are dirty and damaged already. Such a shame.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and the boy with the dark hair forces me to look into his dog eyes. "Whether you want it or not, we are going to help you. Okay? We're gonna help you."

I nod minimal and pull my shirt sleeve over my hand, because I'm cold. Maybe it wasn't very smart to put on such a thin T-shirt.

"Alright, let's get you some warm clothes." He places both hands in my shoulders and leads me out of the room.

All I can think now, is thank you. Thank you for not trying to get rid of me. Thank you for helping me.

Thank you, pretty boy.

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Thank you for reading ♥