➳ jerrie tumblr oneshots

Filters & Froyo

Summary: Jade, a famous heartbroken photographer, gets lost while walking on the streets of New York (taking pictures of course) and bumps into Perrie, a famous cook who mends Jade's heart and falls for her. Things get complicated when Jade met Harry and Perrie meets Louis.

Black & White. Nothing else.
That's how I take my photographs now, because I've just realized that there's not really anything in the world that has true color, not even through filters. You come into the world, live a meaningless life and leave just when you get to the good part. Just like people in relationships. They come into your life, blindside you, knock you off your feet, make you fall for them, and simply leave you alone in the dark in your weakest moment because they simply think it isn't worth it. That you aren't worth it. And maybe, just maybe, it's the truth. Maybe I'm not worth it.

I am tired of this place, I hope people change
I need time to replace what I gave away

I rub at my eyes and shove my Leica back into its pouch. Somehow my clients want street photographs and to be honest I don't get why I'm even known throughout the industry. I've stopped having people model for me ever since It happened, and people eat it up even more. Nothing's my best work anymore in my opinion - it's just black and white, black and white. And shades of gray.
My friends say that I've faded into a faded replica of the person I was before. But don't people expect that from artists? To be all broody, dark, things like that.
I'm not trying to live up to everyone's standards. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of people walking out of my life like I mean absolutely nothing.
My pictures are meaningless too. They're of people running past me at rush hour, trying to get to work on time. Faces blurred, out of focus; spray paint on walls, going on and on. BROKEN. INSANE. BRING ON THE MADNESS.
But my clients like my work and that's all that matters. And that's exactly why I'm standing here, in the Big Apple of all places, with skyscrapers towering all around me as I look around consciously. I don't belong, the girl with the dyed gray hair and concealed camera standing amidst a sea of rushing people and unknown features. I do not belong.
I'm a black cloud standing out amongst a tide of sweaty faces and bright clothes. And even though I don't fit in, I'm swept away by the wave of hurriedness, of adrenaline, of excitement. Passing by a park, I snap a few shots of a homeless man that I will surely delete later. He raises his head and waves a fist at me, screaming at me to fuck off.
I do. Afraid that he will somehow come after me, I take off, my camera thumping against my leg as I push past several pedestrians. Through the winding alleys, the wide streets.
And it's not long before I realize that I'm lost.
And the first thing you do when you're lost is to ask for help like a normal person who belongs. So, as a Normal Person Who Fits In, I turn to the nearest person and tap her shoulder, planning to ask for directions back to my hotel. But, I haven't even gotten a word in before she shoves me hard with her shoulder unintentionally and hurries off. The question dies in my mouth as I stare at her retreating figure, and I drop my hand to my side.
These people are busier than I thought.
"Hey, you lost?"
I turn around to say yes, but the words die in my throat once again because the person in front of me is well, attractive to say the least. But her glossy blonde hair, straight nose and blue eyes remind me of her and I won't let anybody remind me of her.
So, I avert my gaze and stare at the ground. Even though her bright blue eyes remind me of the soft filter I used to always put on my photos before she left me.
Aside from the fact that she looks like my ex, there's something familiar about her that I can't put my finger on.
"What?"
"I can tell when someone's lost in this big city, babe."
"Leave me alone," I say. I don't need to mess around with someone like her, someone who calls a stranger "babe." I know her type. They walk into your life and walk back out without giving a shit about you.
"What's the name of your hotel?" She ignores my barbed comment, a smile tugging at the edge of her lips. They are very pink, and I frown at myself. Normally I try not to notice these details about people because it's what I used to do when people modelled for me.
"It's Go The Fuck Away."
"Are you always this antagonistic?" she asks.
I stop short, eye her suspiciously. What is she insinuating? "What are you-"
"Relax, relax, I'm joking, jeez," she laughs. I stare at this intriguing person again, fascinated in the way she laughs. Like how she throws her head back, her hair flopping in her face, and lets out that giggle, full of joy and carelessness like she doesn't have a worry in the whole wide world. Which brings me back to reality - why am I still talking to her? As if reading my mind, she says, "I want to help."
"What's in it for you? If you want money, you can leave me the fuck alone." I say, flooded with unpleasant memories.
"I get to help. Which makes me happy." she grins. I notice that she has a dimple in her cheek which pops out nicely when she smiles.
"Do you ever stop smiling?"
"No." Her grin widens. "Come on, tell me the name of your hotel."
I sigh, giving in. She seems genuine enough, and I do need help. I tell her the name of my hotel, and she immediately seems surprised if not shocked.
"I work there."
"So, you're helping me because you work there and want money," I summarize and see the quick flash of frustration on her face. Well, she can go fuck herself with my opinions because I've had enough people stepping over me already.
"No, I mean that I live there for now. There's a banquet in a few weeks and I'm being hired as the main chef."
"Main chef," I repeat, almost disbelievingly. Is she kidding me?
"Yes babe," she says, the frustration already gone from her face, replaced by the same blinding smile.
"Do I know you?" Now that I think of it, I think I know of her. If she's who I think she is. That face....that's why she seems familiar. That face has graced the cover of many magazines. Magazines that have my own work displayed on there. "You're- You're-"
"Perrie Edwards," she says, flashing me another smile.
"Chef extraordinaire," I continue for her.
Perrie shrugs with one shoulder. "Well, I wouldn't say so."
"You're a five star chef for God's sake."
She shrugs again and waves down a cab, suddenly nonchalant. We get into the car without any further conversation, and she tells the driver where to go. As we speed past all the buildings, I start to picture them in my head, like what filters I can use to make them come out perfect. "So, you're Jade Thirlwall, aren't you?"
I jerk out of my thoughts. "How do you know?"
"The world isn't as big as you'd think. I have connections, you know, it's pure coincidence that we met though. Aren't you the moody photographer that takes photos of weird stuff?"
"I don't think so, Edwards," I say, letting a smirk drift onto my face for the first time in weeks. Yes, it's a weird feeling but - I feel more alive when I have in months. It's exciting and new and everything that's unfamiliar. "I mean, it feels like it's not just coincidental."
"What do you mean?" A confused expression flits across her face. I study her features, noticing how they're sculpted perfectly. As if she could really be a model. For a painter, perhaps, because she doesn't have the body requirements for a model. Still, I have the feeling that she'd look much better with this body than that of a model.
I should stop thinking about Perrie, whom I've just met about ten minutes ago. It's distracting me and I can't afford to be distracted. "The banquet you were talking about? I think I'm going to be attending it too."
......
Perrie's mouth drops. "Are you serious?"
I shrug. "My employers want me to. Think it'd be good for the relationships with the clients. Useless if you ask me."
Is it my imagination or do I see Perrie blushing? "Well, I'd better whip up something good then."
"You'd better." My eyes zoom in on those lips again. What the fuck is wrong with me? It must be my fucking memory, reminding me of her. The gold digger. Fuck her. Fuck her. The words echo in my head, useless, empty. I resist burying my head in my hands. It's obvious that I'm still not over her, regardless of how much she's used me and tossed me away like I'm a useless rag doll. Regardless of how I kept falling for her fool's gold.
It's not long before the cab pulls up at the entrance of the hotel, and the driver helps us out. "So, tell me, how did you even find me? Out of all of those people?" I'm not so hostile towards her anymore. Maybe it's the fact that she's not befriending me for my wealth, which is a nice change.
Perrie walks beside me as we head into the lobby. Her strides are longer than mine and I have to walk faster in order to catch up. "I was just walking around, actually. Sightseeing. Then I saw you who just looked entirely lost and I thought I'd help out."
"Well, that's good for me, I guess," I say hesitantly. My mouth forms the unfamiliar words. "Thank you. I think."
"You didn't have to add the last part," Perrie giggles, then holds up her hands when I turn around to scowl at her. "Don't take the joke so hard, it's not a dick."
Her vulgar language startles me, and my eyes widen. Her cheeks flush red. "Um, I'm sorry. I guess I....forgot I was in polite company."
"You don't have a filter, do you," I chuckle. And again that surprises me because I haven't chuckled in ages. (I hate the word chuckle. But in this case I guess that's the sound I made). "And it's fine."
Perrie stops for a moment, then nods quickly as if shaking herself out of a trance. Tactfully, she switches the topic. "Where do you live?"
"In this hotel," I say.
She rolls her eyes and nudges me with her shoulder. "Seriously, I mean where in this hotel."
"In my hotel room," I grin.
What am I doing? Why am I so cheery and smiley all of a sudden? I'm not supposed to be bantering with some random blonde I don't even know. I'm supposed to be taking aesthetic shots of something dark and moody. I rip that smile off my face. I cannot afford to get hurt again.
And my hopes, they are high, I must keep them small
Before Perrie can reply again, I shoot a brief reply at her. "Room 74732."
Her eyebrows furrow as if she's trying to figure out my sudden mood change. "Why are you-"
"Don't bother walking me up," I say. "Thanks."
Though I try to resist I still want it all....
I feel her gaze burning holes into my back as I jab the elevator button with my thumb. And when the elevator doors close behind me, I can still see her bright blue eyes. Drilling holes into my soul.
.....
It's not even a few days until I see her, at the park near the hotel. I'm walking around with my Leica hanging out of its pouch again, taking random snapshots of people walking around when I see Perrie. She's sitting alone on a bench with a brown paper bag in her hands, tossing bread crumbs at birds which are flocking around her in excitement.
I try to walk away quickly without her noticing, but somehow I end up drifting towards her. Somehow, I end up sitting next to her on the plain brown bench. She lifts her head and smiles brightly when she sees me. "Hey! Didn't expect to see ya here."
I almost flinch in surprise. I'd expect her to chase me off or something after my standoffish attitude a few days ago. Most people would. But I pretend that everything's fine, and I smile back. It exhausts my face muscles. "Same." I sit there and watch her feed the birds in silence.
"So, what are you doing tomorrow? Taking more weird photos?" Her voice is more quiet now, almost careful. And I can see her staring at me through the corner of my eye. I can tell that she doesn't want me to notice, but I do. I notice things. A lot of them, like how her teeth are worrying at her lower lip now. You can stop staring at her now, Thirlwall.
I rip my eyes away from her with effort and take a deep breath. I seriously cannot be attracted to this sort of person who flirts with everyone and smiles at everyone and in conclusion, is bad for me. "Probably."
"Well, if you could spare the time, maybe we could take a walk around here, grab some good coffee. Would be fun."
I should have said no but my head nods of its own accord and stupid words fall out of my mouth. "Coffee. Yeah. Coffee....is good. Would be good, I mean." I want to kick myself because this is not what I usually say. My brain must be malfunctioning because of the humidity or something. I don't know. But it has nothing to do with Perrie Edwards.
She giggles and gives me another smile.
"Can you stop smiling," I say. Which doesn't make sense because her smile is actually amongst the only ones that are aimed at me. People don't smile at me a lot.
"Why not?" She stands up and grabs my hand before I can tug it away. "It makes you happy. It makes me happy. Win-win."
And maybe, just maybe, she's right.
.....
My bell rings at approximately 8:30 A.M. the next morning. I rub at my eyes as I open the door, realizing too late that I always only sleep in shorts and a sports bra. "What are - Oh. Um, hi."
And there she is. Perrie Edwards. Fully dressed, with her blonde hair styled to perfection, dressed in cutoffs and an off shoulder blouse that make her look beautiful. And I'm saying this from an objective view, of course. She's probably not that pretty....Stop kidding yourself, of course she is. Now shut up and stop gaping and go get changed.
"Hey," she said breathlessly. Her cheeks are red, and I don't know why. It's probably the fact that I'm only dressed in a sports bra, shorts and nothing else.
"Um, sorry. I'll go get dressed. Why don't you make yourself comfortable? Help yourself to anything in the fridge. Not that there's anything left anyway." I cannot believe how good of a host I am.
Note the fucking sarcasm.
I quickly escape before she can say anything else, pull a rumpled dress over my body, and shove a hat over my brown hair to hide how messy it is. "Let's go," I say almost too brightly. Perrie is already sipping on a can of beer. Probably the last one left in the minifridge. "Alcohol this early in the morning?"
Perrie shrugs and smiles at me. "I'm not that much of a lightweight." She follows me out of the door and dumps the can in the trash. "Where to?"
"Hey, you're the tour guide, you decide." Remembering my vow to not get stepped over again, I pull the smile from my face and put on a neutral expression.
Her eyebrows furrow again. She's going to get a permanent crease if she keeps doing that. "Froyo?"
"Froyo it is, then."
We end up getting froyo at the shop a few blocks down from the hotel. Then we take a walk around the park. It's weird because my face keeps pulling into a smile whenever she talks to me, and I can't seem to make it stop.
"So, tell me why you're always smiling," I say as we walk over a bridge. There are ducks. Lots of them, with white feathers. Squawking, flapping their wings. She turns around and grabs my hand. Laughs. Swings them back and forth.
"Tell me why you're always frowning, then."
"Well," I reply, "doesn't it feel better that way? When you're so permanently unhappy, nothing can really surprise you anymore? When nothing can step over you anymore?"
Perrie shrugs and beams at me again. "Maybe I just want to be surprised."
Perrie Edwards is fifty percent smiles and fifty percent shrugs. Awfully naive for someone her age. Twenty-two. She should be fresh out of college, but from what I have heard, she was recruited for some cooking reality show or something. I tell myself that I don't care. That she's just a mere acquaintance.
"Surprised, how?" I say flatly. I can't help it.
I still remember when Taylor wanted everything at once. Money, clothes, connections. She just didn't want me.
For fuck's sake, just stop thinking about her.
"Well, for example, meeting new people! You can't exactly grimace and frown at them all day with that pretty face. Hey, do you like curry?"
I tell my stupid face to stop blushing and look up at her. "Um, depends."
"Well, I know a real good restaurant around here that serves sick curry. You wanna come along?"
Everything is going so fast when I talk to her, it's hard to keep track of anything anymore. I nod. Like a bobblehead.
.....
And wow. It's only been two months but I already find myself thinking about Perrie Edwards of all people, more than my ex. Already she's pulled me in her weird orbit. It's like she's the sun, and I'm just planet Earth circling around her without meaning to. She's so bright. And popular. I'm dark; the only reason people still talk to me is probably because of my work. But Perrie's different. She talks to me because she wants to.
I wasn't supposed to be staying in NYC for two months. I was supposed to leave right after the banquet, but Perrie needed a flatmate. And not surprisingly I agreed, because I agree with everything she says.
Perrie cooks better than I thought at first. The banquet was marvelous. The thought of Perrie in a curve-hugging black dress brings a smile to my face. All eyes were on her during that particular dinner. But, her eyes were only on me.
Or the numerous hangouts we've been on, I smile at her more and more every time. I feel compelled to call them dates, but they aren't. Sometimes we talk, about things that don't make sense. And we talk about things that do.