Rose, Not Rosie (A One Direction Fan Fiction)

Chapter 8: Twitter is the Enemy

-----Rose-----

I wake up at 8 AM... which is way before the boys. What're they doing anyways? Sleeping is for babies, not grown men! But they were quite a bit drunk last night, so they'll probably be out most of the morning. Which means I get the house to myself!

I creep down the stairs and into the TV room to find Zayn sprawled on the couch underneath Niall. Both are out like a light and I'm sure if I thonked their foreheads they wouldn't even stir. Niall's mouth is wide open as he snores rather loudly and Zayn has a very bad case of bed head. And girls think they're attractive?

I grin when I spot Niall's phone on the table. I unlock it with ease because he doesn't have a passcode on it. Rule #1: If you don't want Rose on your phone, put a password on it. Actually, I'm pretty sure that rule applies for anyone.
I open the camera and get a photo of the two of them sleeping. The whole time I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

I find his Twitter app and post the picture on there using the caption:

Niall and Zayn catching up on some Zz's... for now. I'll be sure to wake them later! (: Rose x

Immediately fans are retweeting the picture and tweeting Niall directly things like: "Who's Rose?" and "Is she your girlfriend?"

Wait. Was I not officially released to the public yet? I thought that was what the pictures were for yesterday.

I can see what Josh was saying about the fans being dedicated. And from the looks of some of these messages, some are a bit more than dedicated... I'd go so far as to say they're obsessed, but who am I to judge them?

I set the phone back on the coffee table and go into the kitchen with the best idea in the world, I'm going to surprise them with breakfast. I learned how to make french toast from one of the nicer nannies from the orphanage a few months back. I reach into the frige and take out the neccessary ingredients: eggs, milk, cinnamon, and bread.

I grab a bowl and crack the eggs and pour the milk into it and stir. Finally, I put a little cinnamon into the mixture before dipping the bread into it. Then, I make sure to flip it on both sides before placing it on the pan to cook. I watch the cooking french toast while I prepare the other pieces. I repeat this for about ten slices of french toast and voila! Breakfast for five boys!
I should be a chef when I grow up. Five star Chef Rose in the house! ...Wow, I'm weird. Now it all makes sense why the boys chose me.

I grab Niall's phone once again and look through his contacts. Yup, this is a famous person's phone. He has Justin Bieber's and Demi Lovato's numbers! Hm, maybe it'll be fun to prank call one of them later when the boys wake up.

Out of nowhere the loud and obnoxious doorbell rings. I am cauught off guard and the phone slips out of my hands and lands on the coffee table with a bang. At this, Zayn twitches which causes Niall to come crashing to the floor. Both slowly get up as they regain conciousness.

"Hey Niall?" I whisper to him, leaning down beside him.

The blond bloke groans in repsonse. He clutches his head gingerly, his eyes shut tight.

"Can you get the door?" I ask.

"Why can't you?"

"Because you could fend off any scary people, I'm too small to." I tell him. I would like to point out that I am not lazy. It just so happens to sound like I am at the moment. But in truth, I'm terrified as to who's on the other side of the door. It could be anyone from the mail man to an obsessed fan or a serial killer. I'm hoping it's not the last option.

"I'll get it," Zayn mutters, stumbling over to the front door. I cower behind Niall as the door swings open.

"What the hell were you guys thinking?!" A man yells before waltzing into the house. One other man follows him right on his tail. The one that yelled is rather old looking with a balding head of brown hair.

"Can I ask what you're talking about?" Zayn inquires with a look of confusion.

The other man with a deep emerald green suit steps forward, "You know exactly what we're talking about! And now because of your lack of brain cells we need to do damage control!"

My head falls into Niall's shoulder. He puts his arm around me and asks, "Damage control for what?" He's slow in saying this and his voice struggles to stay even.

I can picture the brown haired man rolling his eyes as he says in an accusatory tone, "Funny you should ask because it is your fault, Mr. Horan."

Niall scoffs, "But I haven't done anything!" I pull my head up and look at his blue eyes which are filled with a mixture of rage and confusion.

The bloke in the deep green suit clarifies, "Yes you have. Please explain this photo that went up on Twitter this morning." The blood drains from my face as he fishes the picture I took of Niall and Zayn a little while ago out of his briefcase. He walks over and dangles it right in front of Niall's face, "Well?"

The two boys examine it for a moment, exchanging confused looks. Finally Zayn points out, "He was asleep! How could he have taken it? Let alone post the bloody thing?"

Niall mutters under his breath, "Idiots."

"Well how did it get up there? The phone didn't just take the picture and magically post itself!" Emerald suit says sarcastically.

I catch Niall's eye and try to get him to realize that I was the one who took the picture, but I'm sure he already knows this. Nevertheless, a look of understanding floods over him. "I'm sure this is all just a big misunderstanding. If I just explain to the fans that whoever posted it isn't romantically involved with me they'll understand. No harm done." Niall says, giving my shoulder a light squeeze.

"You see that's where you're wrong," the brown haired man snaps, "Your lovely fans seem to be calling her every name in the book. And they don't know that she's just your new little sister. And now you're getting called names for it too! You weren't expecting that, were you?" The man gasps mockingly at this part.

"Okay no need for the sarcasm. Just tell us what we need to do," Zayn sighs, exasperated.
The man exhales sharply, "I'm going to need an official statement from you telling everyone about her." He points a wrinkled finger at me. Niall squeezes my shoulder once more.

Zayn blows up at him, "She has a name you inconsiderate son of a-"

"That's enough!" The man yells, putting up a hand, "I will not put up with your crap anymore!"

Zayn opens his mouth to object, but Niall cuts him off, "Listen here, you write down our freaking statements and then you get your arses out of our house. And don't you dare say anything against my mate, or my sister ever again."

The brown haired man has a vein bulging on his neck and his head looks like it's about to blow off his shoulders in a fit of rage. Him and Niall have a stare down, both shooting daggers at each other. Finally the man breaks eye contact and whips out a notebook and pen. He clicks it and mutters cooly, "What's your statement on the current situation?"

"We would like to clarify to our fans that Rose is the newest addition to our family. We adopted her as our sister jus the other day. And we would like to apologize to our fans for the misunderstanding. We hope that Rose will be able to attend our signing next week." Zayn answers curtly. Niall pulls me into his lap on the floor. The man scribbles this down on his legal pad and strides out of the house without a word. The one in the emerald suit hastily runs after him.

Once the door shuts I immediately apologize for everything, "I'm really sorry! I thought that the photoshoot was introducing me to your fans then! I-I didn't mean to get you two in trouble for the picture! I just-I'm sorry." I feel tears prick my eyes at my own stupidity.

Niall and Zayn smile reassuringly at me. "It's fine. You didn't know. It's not your fault, love," Zayn murmurs picking me up from Niall's lap and holding me in his arms.

"Thanks," I whisper into his shoulder.

Three sets of feet come pounding into the room like a herd of elephants. "Nice of you to join us!" Niall exclaims sarcastically.

"What was all the racket about?" Liam asks.

"Yeah!" Harry adds, "You woke me up from a nice dream about a pretty girl!"

We all stop to look at Harry. "No comment, mate, just no comment," Louis says with a grin, shaking his head.