The morning after

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"What the fuck, what the fuck what the fuck!" I muttered, confused as hell. Where the hell was I?

Okay, so this is what happened: I have no idea where I am or what led me to this place. I woke up in really strange bedroom. It was HUGE, about thrice as big as my room. It was really clean, like the person who lives here really allots time for cleaning the room. The walls were plain white, but were covered with band posters and random things like price tags, concert tickets and pieces of paper with writings on them. They were scattered, some were even turned upside down. I took one note and read:

"As I stare at millions of stars, I realize how insignificant I am to the world, yet I feel as if I have to struggle to survive because there are billions of cells in my body and all they care about is me, not the universe, just me..." I read out loud. The handwriting was very much the same as mine, except it looked like I wrote it after waking up from a really bad hangover.

I'm officially freaking out. I don't know where I am and Neither do I remember anything that happened last night.

I know what you're thinking, no, there were no parties last night, I'm not drunk, and I'm pretty sure I'm not high. I also know that this isn't me waking up from a one night stand because I'm not that type of girl.

I'm quite sure I don't know who owns this room because I don't know anyone who actually went to an Ed Sheeran concert one month ago, or anyone who is a fan of Bastille. I mean, if I did, he'd probably become my boyfriend.

Suddenly, I hear something that sounded like the intro to M83's Midnight City. I tried so hard to look for whatever it is that was making the sound. Just before the vocalist starts to sing, I found a black iPhone 5S on a table beside a big, fat siberian husky. I went to get the phone but I hesitated because the dog might bite me. Strangely, it walked towards me and started doing the dog thing. You know, when dogs approach you and make you pet them and snuggle with them? Yeah, it did that.

Just when the sound stopped, I grabbed the phone and stared at the screen.

One missed call.

I wanted to know who it was cause the person probably knows the owner of the phone, but the phone was locked so I sat back on the bed and waited for another call. I stared at the wall and saw a note which reads: black iPhone 5S password: 0000.

I mentally laughed at the guy (After carefully analyzing his wall, I have concluded that the owner, definitely, is a man) and thought that this person must be stupid to not remember his own phone's password. But then I saw several other notes. One says: White iPhone5 password: 4444. Another one says: iPhone 5s white, spare phone password: nope.

Then I realized that the man wasn't stupid, but he was rich. That, or his parents probably own Apple, Inc. right after Steve Jobs passed away (which would lead to him being, well, rich), or that he has won so many iPhones in raffles, or he has really rich friends who give out iPhones as gifts. Whatever he is, one thing is for sure: this guy is loaded.

I typed in the password and luckily, it opened. I looked at the number and...

"2658-482691.... WHAT THE FUCK!!!" Yes, I know, those were the only words I have managed to say out loud but if you were in my situation, you would probably say the same thing.

"Thi..This is my number!!!" Just as I finished my sentence, the phone rang again. I declined the call because 1. I wasn't on an unlimited call postpaid plan, and whoever was calling me didn't know that or was just heartless and 2. This is not my phone, that would be a case of level 2 invasion of privacy. Not that there were levels to it, but if there were, level 1 would actually be unlocking the person's phone, and I didn't want to go further into reaching the second level.

Switched | Zayn Malik AUWhere stories live. Discover now