Sapphire *One Direction* [Liam Payne]

Chapter 4

We walked into the dimly lit restaurant following closely behind the hostess that lead us to a table with a direct view of the stage. The booth was in a semi-circle shape, and as comfortable as a couch. The table was a light wood with dark distress stains running across the top. There was a huge British flag that hung above the stage, and each wall of the pub represented a different English soccer team with pictures and framed jerseys hung above tables. There was a large 3-sided bar in the back of the room where loads of people were sitting on stools, eating large slabs of fried fish, and making loud conversation.

I glanced at my menu trying to decide what I wanted. "Hey guys!" I heard a familiar voice say. "Sorry we're a little late. Sean wanted to get the man of the hour something," Kevin slid into the booth next to me.

"Well someone had to get him something," Sean laughed, "but it can be from all of us."

"We just arrived as well, so no big deal," Andrew reassured. Kristina had left out the detail that Kevin and Sean would be joining us. "James can't come, he has to take care of his sick sister," Andrew informed.

"That’s a shame mate, but we will have plenty of fun with out him!" Kevin reassured. We all laughed along with Kevin trying to keep a lightened mood.

"So Sean, what is it you do?" Kristina asked.

"I have my own lunch place where you can get almost anything on the go!" he answered with excitement. I could tell he loved he job and was passionate about his business; how he talked about it was inspirational. "We have a lot of local regulars that come in almost everyday," he continued, "but I would like to add a sit-down portion to the deli so we can bring in more customers, including ones that aren't so much on the go." He chuckled at his remark and waited for Kristina to give her input, but before she could, the main lights went dark and someone stepped on the stage illuminated by a spot light.

He put a microphone to his mouth and spoke, "Alright everybody, we've got a special guest with us tonight so put your hands together for him!" The whole crowd began to clap and cheer as the announcer placed the microphone on the mic-stand and pulled up a stool. A rather tall male with a guitar slung around his shoulder replaced the speaker on the stage. The leather jacket was all to familiar. His back was toward us as he set the guitar down and slid his jacket down his arms then replaced the guitar. He turned around and sat on the stool. Liam. I didn’t know Liam was a musician. His long-sleeved blue, plaid, button-up shirt was rolled to his elbows exposing his forearms. His left forearm displayed a sentence of curly letters in black ink. He began to strum the guitar and his creamy brown eyes closed as if he were one with the music. His lips parted and he drew in oxygen. His voice was like nothing I had ever heard before, my heart was pounding, my eyes locked on him, my body felt irrelevant to everything, my fingers intertwined as I propped my elbows up on the table. I set my chin onto my entangled fingers and gazed in awe upon the angelic musician. His voice was like warm chocolate, gliding over the rough edges of ice cream making even the bumpy, cold mound of ice desirable and tasteful. I was completely captivated by his words. His lips parted again and his eyes fluttered open for the first time in the song:

Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand

And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand

Jesus freaks out in the street

Handing tickets out for God