Aftermath

Chapter Ten

Jazz’s POV

“You could help us, you know?” Zayn muttered at me as he walked in front of the TV carrying a heavy suitcase.

“That would require effort, now move” I shot back, shooing him away from the telly.

I was planted on the boys’ leather couch, my feet kicked up on the coffee table. We had all crashed at the boys’ place, again, we practically live here now, but I had roused the girls up early in the   morning, knowing we had to go to our flat and finish packing our stuff up to load onto the tour bus. I know, ME waking up first? But I take a great of amount of joy in waking up hungover  people seeing as I don’t drink and believe me, the girls were QUITE hungover.

“You are such a lazy bum” Yaritza walked through the living room holding a suitcase.

“Ya’ll are just mad because you can’t remember anything from last night...” I snickered, sticking my tongue out at the tall girl, causing her to glare at me because she knew I was speaking the truth.  

The four of us girls had gone back to our  flat, changed, showered, and dragged all our stuff to the boys’ flat, and that alone required too much effort. Lana, Yaritza, and Alyssa were helping the five lads pack and load their stuff onto the bus. We had talked and decided that instead of AOT getting our own tour bus, we would just share with the boys, saving money, and promising a lot more entertainment. Perrie, El, and Dani had left a long time ago for their jobs, each one promising to come to tonight's concert and Brad was still passed out in one of the rooms.

I flipped through the TV channels, wondering why Niall seemed so sullen this morning. The kid was usually all smiles, and that was no different today, but there was something off about him. He wasn’t looking too well, health-wise, by the end of last night, he obviously drank despite saying he wouldn’t.  But it was more than just a usual hangover this morning.

I was just about to turn off the telly and go wake up Brad like Alyssa had told me to twenty minutes ago, when a show on E! caught my eye.

“One Direction innocent press ball turned insane club party?” the lady on E!  started off and I set the remote down, bored enough to listen to the gossip show. “ I’m Lovely Efron here to spill the latest dirt on the world’s biggest boy band!”

“So much happened  last night at One DIrection’s major bash and unless you’re living under a rock, you must’ve heard that the youtube band Army of Two will be the boys’ opening act for the world tour that kicks off tonight! But...the drama has already started. Jasmine, or better known as Jazz, Malik, no word yet whether she’s related to Zayn; and a certain Irish boy were pictured with matching drawings of a heart on opposite cheeks last night.  Fans went crazy a few days ago when Niall and a girl who looks very much like Jazz were pictured together at Tesco’s and if you were one of those fans....wait ‘till you hear what Niall’s been up to now!”

The show went to ad and I almost died laughing at the related to Zayn comment, oh man, I’ve got to congratulate Zayn for coming up with that idea.  My laughter quickly died away though as the show came back.

“Niall, the innocent one, is not so innocent anymore! These photos and videos were taken last night at the party...wonder what Jazz thinks about it?”

A grainy clip appeared on the telly and I could feel my fists involuntarily clenching as I stared at the screen, trying to make sense of it all. It was Niall and a girl in a green dress, and at first I thought it was me despite the fact that my dress was totally different, but what happened next almost made me throw up. The two kissed, or more like devoured each other, and the clip seemed to go on and on. A picture was flashed onto the screen next, where Niall’s shirt was half unbuttoned and the girl’s barely there dress was slipping off her shoulder, Niall’s arms tightly wrapped around her waist, as he nuzzled her neck. I couldn’t take it anymore. Thankful I wore comfortable clothes, I got up and walked out the door of the flat. I suddenly had a very strong urge to box.