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It's a date

Jess's P.O.V

It's been a week since the ARIAS and I'm back at Art School, Skye's barely home she's been in London or with Harry and when she is home she spends her time talking about Harry or London which to be quite honest I don't give two shits about. Not when I hear about it 50 fucking times a day.

I'm sat in my room listening to 21 guns by Green Day staring at my poster of Evan Peters trying to somehow think of how I can draw both sides of him the good and the bad. I spin aimlessly in my chair stopping at the window and looking outside. I begin to wonder how strange it is that we walk past possible hundreds of different people everyday and know nothing other then what they look like and we think that gives us the right to judge them. We have no idea what that person is going through that person may have cried themselves to sleep last night, they have found out they're going to be an Uncle or they may be planning to kill themselves. Our words have a very powerful effects both negative and positive, what you say could change someone's life for ever it could decide if they life carry on or not. 

As I'm pondering this, I came up with an idea for my drawing. About 30 scraps in the bin, 3 broken pencils, about 50 swear words later I have 1 decent looking drawing. Praying my Art teacher Mr.Drew would be happy with it. I change out of my jeans and Misfits shirt and in to running trousers and a sports top, I headed out to the gym.

Michael's P.O.V

It had been a week since the ARIAS and things had returned to normal interview,interview,show,fuck another groupie wishing it was Jess. I hate talking about them like that but it's the only way not to get attached to them. She wasn't even mine, yet she had be under some kind of spell. We were at the airport waiting to fly to England so we could perform at the jingle bell ball and I couldn't find my passport.
'Shit!'
'What is it Michael?' Ashton asks.
'I've lost my passport'
'No! You haven't have you checked that bag' Ashton asks pointing to my black bag sat by my feet. I nod. 'Well you're telling management, not us' Calum says.
'Are you fucking kidding Michael!? Okay well your going to have to stay here the other three will have to perform with out you' Our manager Zop says. 'No we can't perform without Michael ' Luke cries.
'Look mate you have to'
'But I don't want to' he pouts looking like a little child. I look over at Zop for support he just shakes his head 'Luke grow some balls and go fucking smash it with out me, okay?' I instruct him.

'Okay?' I press after getting no response.

'Okay...' Luke giggles.'we just...do you know what we just did' Luke giggles.
'Yeah I do you idiot now go' I laugh hugging him then pushing him towards the gate before hugging Calum and Ashton goodbye.

I decide to do what any normal person does with a day of and go on Twitter and apologise tell the boys how amazing they did, tweet that I miss them.

Jess's P.O.V

'Come on you've got to come' Skye is in the middle of trying to pursued me to go to New York with her for a holiday. 'Come on it will be fun. Niall will be there' referring to the crush I had on him before her and Harry started dating about 6 months ago. 'Fine I'll come' I give in.
So that explains why I'm sat here at 3.30 in the fucking morning waiting for flight 345 to New York to say I thought I was about to shit myself would be an understatement I almost certain I might die. A. Have I never been on a plane before B. I get really bad travel sickness C. I'm flying alone (not a good idea especially if it's your first time flying) 'flight 345 to New York is reading to be boarded please wait at gate 6.

After going through all the routine checks I walk on to the plane and find my seat next to a woman with natural brunette hair she is smartly dressed in a pencil skirt and high heels with a buttoned up shirt tucked in to it all I think about as I sit next to her how uncomfortable it must be to where high heels for a 20 hour flight looking down at my dark green hair and ripped black skinny jeans that I chose to wear my everyday black vans with along with one of Michael's old Sex Pistol shirts that I just couldn't bring myself to throw away. Looking at us you would this this lady and I would not get along we were polar opposites. You know what they say though looks can be deceiving. I throw my stuff in too the over head department and as I do I get the lady who I have to sit next to groans in discomfort. 'Hi I'm Jess' I smile sitting next to her if I'm going to have to sit next to her I might as well get to know her. 'I'm Susan and let me guess your a drop out who plays in some punk metal band and what's to find fame and fortune in the big apple and your boyfriend if on drugs and a bad boy but that's what you love about. His bad boy attitude . I know all about you kinda of people. You're bad' Susan replies in a stuck up voice. All I can think of if how I want to make a sassy remark about how I all about her kind of people and how snobby they are but I bite my tongue and smile at her. 
'You couldn't be more wrong actually I go to Art School' I begin to tell her.
'Well that's ridiculous what a waste of money' she scoffs. This lady and I are obviously not going to get along, how am I supposed to spend 20 hours with her.
'I'm not in a punk band..I can't sing at all. ' I lightly laugh trying to life the mood. I can play 2 notes on the harp though. I'm going to New York on holiday with a friend who's flying from London and I don't have a boyfriend. What about you?'
'Sorry I don't talk to people of your kind' Susan says tapping a Air Hostess on the shoulder 'excuse me Miss I would like to move seats please' Susan asks her.