They're Judging Me

This is a One Direction fanfiction/oneshot

   I sighed as I walked through the door of the house I shared with each and every member of One Direction. I held my binders full of college homework in my hands, some food Niall wanted me to pick up for him balanced on top of them. I pressed my chin to my chest to hold my sweater and my keys were held between my teeth as I shut the door with my foot. Wobbling over to the coffee table, I sat down the homework and my keys. I slung my sweater across the back of the couch and stepped over a few empty pepsi cans to get to the kitchen, where I stored Niall’s food in the refrigerator because there was no telling when the boys would get back home.

 

    They’d been at their photo shoot since early that morning, and Harry had texted me right as I was leaving school saying that they weren’t even close to being finished. That was to be expected, though. When it came to those boys, everything took forever. Lets just say that they weren’t the best at keeping focused.

 

    I yawned and made my way to the couch, sitting down with one leg tucked underneath me. It had been an extremely long day at university. I’d had three tests and failed one of them, causing my teacher to yell at me in front of the whole class. And to make it worse, I tripped over someone’s bag on my way back to my seat, faceplanting like it was nobody’s business. Needless to say, I was ready to relax for a little while.

 

    I retrieved my laptop from the table where one of the boys had left it, and I turned on the TV for some background noise while I waited for my gruelingly slow computer to start up. Once it came on and I entered my extremely creative password that I shall never reveal to anyone, I pulled up Safari and my fingers glided over the familiar keys, not missing a beat- T-W-I-T-T-E-R. It was a nightly routine for me to stalk Twitter, and in some strange way, it always seemed to calm me down. I scrolled through some tweets that my friends from back home in Tennessee had sent me, and giggled when I came across a picture my cousin tweeted of her vacation to the beach. We won’t speak of the content of that picture.

 

   I scrolled down a little bit more, still giggling about the image that had been engrained into my mind until my laughter abruptly stopped when I cam across one- very rude- tweet. My face fell, the smile I had been previously sporting was ripped away.

 

   You don’t deserve Harry. You’re way too ugly for him. You should pack your things and go back to hillbilly country you disgusting airhead.

 

    Surprisingly, I hadn’t really gotten any hate from ‘fans’ since Harry and I had been dating until that day, and to be quite honest, I was shocked. I should’ve known that it was coming; Eleanor and Danielle had warned me multiple times. I thought I was prepared for it, but I wasn’t. It’s strange how something someone you’ve never met has said, can affect you to the point where you actually question yourself. Did I really not deserve Harry? Was I too ugly? Should I go back home?

 

   Sometimes I wonder if, had that girl known the impact her comment would make on me, would she have still sent it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

   That was two months prior to this next event. I was seated on the couch again in sweats and my hair pulled up into a messy bun. The boys weren’t home yet, as usual, and I was performing my Twitter routine again. But now I didn’t scroll through the tweets to wind down and smile. Now I did it to see what people were saying about me. I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t help it. It was addictive; I had to know.

Ever since that first comment things blew up. It was like every girl in the world between the ages of thirteen and twenty-three had suddenly jumped onto the bandwagon of hatred towards me. I couldn’t go to school without girls sneering and snickering my way. It was like they’d all turned into sixteen year olds instead of college aged women.

 

   All of it had taken a toll on me, physically and emotionally. I knew that Harry’s fans were extremely passionate going into this relationship, but I never expected them to be so cruel. Throughout the couple months of torture I’d grown exceedingly insecure in my own skin. Just going out in public made my heart race, and I just wanted to retreat and hide in the dark dungeon of my room with the curtains drawn and my blankets wrapped around me. I’d lost my appetite, too. I mean, I ate but not nearly enough, leaving me lightheaded half of the time. The words were just constantly beat into me. Ugly. Fat. Disgusting. Stupid. Selfish.

 

   I’d talked to lots of people. Danielle and Eleanor were going through it, too, and sometimes it was just frustrating to see how they’d grown stronger from it, but it only brought me down. And I talked to Zayn’s new girlfriend, Perrie, too. She was just beginning to get some hate herself, but even she didn’t seem to be too bothered by it. Was something wrong with me? Harry continued to tell me that I was beautiful and to not listen to what those girls said. That if they were true fans then they’d support us and be happy to see that we’d both found someone special. And there were fans that took up for me and said nice things and supported us. But as bad as it sounds, I never even really paid attention to their comments. There could be hundreds of tweets telling me that I was amazing, but if there’s just one rude tweet then it would be the only one I saw. I know it sounds twisted, but that’s just how it works.

 

    Harry and the other boys wanted to say something to the so-called fans, but management wouldn’t let them. They said it could taint their reputation, make them seem rude and uncaring.

 

    I sighed as I scanned over the crude tweets, internally wondering why the heck I was doing this to myself. Most of them were things I’d heard and read a million times, petty insults. But then my eye caught one comment that included an upsettingly vulgar name directed towards me, and I broke. Tears welled up in my eyes and I roughly wiped at them with the sleeve of my hoodie. But it wasn’t just an emotional reaction, no, this time they really got at me. This time my heart didn’t just break…it shattered. And a realization came over me; I couldn’t handle this anymore. I couldn’t-

 

    “Alexis, what’s wrong?” My head snapped up quickly, the light from my laptop illuminated the trail of tears cascading down my cheek. Harry was stood in the doorway, worry etched deeply into the crease of his forehead. I thought they weren’t supposed to be home for at least another hour.

 

    Before I could answer, Niall’s head popped up from behind Harry, a goofy smile on his face until he saw me. “Lex, why are you crying?” He asked, his Irish accent on edge.

 

“I… Harry…we need to talk,” I managed to say between hiccupy tears.

 

   Harry nodded, his green eyes boring into mine as he nodded his head towards Niall and asked if we could have a moment alone, never removing his gaze from me. Niall glanced between us and then obliged, shooting me a wary look before stepping back outside and shutting the door lightly behind him.

 

    I sniffled and wiped my nose with the back of my hand as Harry came towards me. Always attractive, right? I hugged my arms around myself as some weird form of comfort, and Harry swooped down beside me like a hero. But I thought I was too far gone to be saved. “Babe, tell me what’s wrong,” he whispered, snaking his arm around me to pull me closer to him, into his warmth and his cinnamon-y smell. My arm shot out to grab my laptop so it wouldn’t fall off my lap.

 

    I looked up at him, though my vision was blurred and unfocused from the water pouring from my eyes like a sorrowful waterfall. I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip, trying to decide if I was really ready to speak or not. “Harry, I can’t do this anymore,” I whimpered, my voice hoarse and jagged.

 

    He crinkled his forehead, confused. Then he turned his head away from me to scan the words on my computer screen. He scoffed, shaking his head angrily. I drew back when he slammed it shut and roughly placed it back on the vacant spot of the coffee table. When he looked back at me his jaw was set rigidly, and he stared up at the ceiling for a moment, shaking his head again. “You have to stop looking at this stuff, Lex. You’re right, you can’t do this anymore. You can’t let those people get to you,” he said, pointing at my laptop as if it were the one to blame.

 

    A sadness enveloped me when I realized that he only thought I was talking about the hate. I was talking about him, us, everything. I couldn’t do any of it anymore. “No, Harry,” I said shakily, reaching my hand up to run my fingertips across the back of his neck, relishing the smoothness of his skin. My fingers made their way to the ends of his hair, taking in the softness of his curls. Things I’d never experience again if I went through with this decision, if I really turned my back on everything. I drew in a trembling breath and forced myself to look into his eyes again. “I can’t do us anymore, Harry. I can’t do you and me,” I spoke softly and took a moment to watch him. His lips parted and his jaw was still clenched.

 

    “I wanted to be the strong girl who could take care of herself. The one who didn’t always need someone constantly reassuring them that they’re worth it. I wanted to be independent and brush things off my shoulder like Eleanor and Danielle and Perrie, but…I’m not,” I stopped, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of my mouth and I started again, “And I’ve always wanted to be the type of person who didn’t care what people thought of me. The type of girl who could just laugh it off and move on. I don’t want those people’s opinions to matter to me but…they do.” There was a glassy sheen in Harry’s eyes when I dared to look into them again, but behind that there was something else. Like a fiery burning determination.

 

    His hands reached out to cradle my face, his fingers slipping into my hair and his palms pressed tight around my jaw. “We can get through this, Lex. I can help you. We can beat them. Don’t let them win, Lex,” he pleaded. I noticed how his bottom lip quivered when he spoke.

 

   “No. We can’t get through this,” I said, the words spewing out like a smack in the face. I pulled away from his touch and pushed his hands away from me, only the smallest bit of guilt rushing over me when I saw the hurt look on his face. “Do you know what it feels like to not be able to walk out your front door without feeling like everyone walking down that road hates you? Do you know what it feels like to dread going out in public because you feel like every person who looks your way is silently judging you, picking apart every aspect of you and your life? No, you don’t know what it feels like! We can’t get through this. I can’t get through this, Harry,” I spat as if someone else had taken over my body.

 

   Harry brought his hand down hard, smacking it on the leather couch, making a loud sound that caused me to jump back. My eyes widened; I’d never seen him act so…violent and look so desperate. He’d call it passionate but I see things differently. “Yes we can!” His voice was almost a shout. He watched me for a second as I shrunk back into the couch, and then he hastily grabbed my computer, stabbing the keys so hard with his fingers that I was afraid he might break it.

 

“What are you doing?” I asked.

 

“I’m putting a stop to this,” he said through clenched teeth and turned back to the computer.

 

I grabbed his hand. He wasn’t supposed to do this. “But management-”

 

   He shook my hand away. “I don’t give a flip what management thinks. I’m not going to sit back and let these people tear you down, and I’m definitely not going to let them take you away from me,” he said, his voice taking on a softer tone now.

 

   I swallowed hard, pressing my lips together as the room grew silent again, Harry’s eyes fixed on the screen. I raised my eyebrows when a pleased smile spread across his face. “Look at this,” he instructed, turning the computer around so I could see the screen. There were about twenty tweets of people apologizing for past things they’d said about me, all sent in a matter of minutes, and more were popping up every few seconds.

 

   “Is that enough to make you stay?” He asked. Everything about him was hopeful. The apology tweets couldn’t make up for the damage they’d previously caused, but the determination and the fight in Harry’s eyes was more than enough. I nodded slowly, closing the laptop and setting it aside, a smile finally making it’s way onto my face for the first time in a very long time.

 

   Harry grinned, his dimples more prominent than ever. His whole body becoming more relaxed and less rigid in one exhale of compressed breath. His hand found mine from the other side of the couch, intertwining our fingers together, mine much smaller than his. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too,” I breathed, the words familiar and welcome on my tongue.

 

“And I want you to promise me that you’ll delete your twitter and quit looking at that stuff,” he added.

 

    “Promise.” At that time we probably would’ve kissed or done something conciliatory, but the creaking of the front door opening ruined that chance.

 

    We both turned at the same time to see Niall’s head poking in through the door, his hand covering his eyes. “Can I come in now? It’s really cold out here.”

 

    I’d completely forgot about Niall being outside. “Yeah, you can come in, sorry. And why are you covering your eyes?” I questioned, laughing lightly as he peeked through his fingers and then stepped in, dropping his hand to his side.

 

   He grinned and hunched his shoulders. “Hey, you’ve got to be prepared. You never know what you might walk in on.”

 

   “Niall,” I hissed, shooting him a disapproving look. Harry only snickered beside me. I smacked his arm lightly. “You boys are horrible! Now which one of you is going to help me cook dinner?”

 

    “Me!” Niall volunteered, his hand shooting up in the air like an overly excitable school child. He was already halfway to the kitchen before I could follow him, a new pep in my step because maybe things were going to be alright.

Author's Note

This is my first fanfiction, pretty much. I've wrote a preference for someone on Tumblr before, but they came up with the idea. So this is the first fanfiction where it's all my idea. So...yeah. I hope it wasn't too bad.

Reviews

[Aehr]

Oh! this was adorable, and cute all over!!I love 1D totally! But I love Zayn... hehe... I love the way you've written this. It's really well done.

P.S = I'm not copying or anything, but will you mind if I write a 1D fanfiction too sometime? :P

[Lydia]

I definitley wouldn't mind if you wrote one. In fact, I'd love to read it. And thank you for your review. I'm actually working up a Zayn one in my mind right now, but it will be quite a different and new writing style I'll be using so we'll have to see how that works itself out.

[Aehr]

that's great! Don't forget sending me an RR when it's done

[Lydia]

I did.

[Aehr]

cool!

[Lydia]

It's called The Teenaged Innocent. Make sure you tell me what you think about it, please!

[Aehr]

sure. but i might take a day to read it. i'm working on my own fanfiction right no as well. but i'll definitely read it by tomorrow.

[Lydia]

That's fine. Can't wait to read your fanfic as well.