The Fortune Teller (One Direction)

Chapter 11 - Surprise

Note: I wrote this chapter whilst watching Glee so beware the terribleness of this part of the story. It's quite random and cheesy so I apologise for that! I went to edit it but just couldn't think of anything. Sorry! Hope you enjoy anyway! x

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“Raya, you’re going to have to remind me why we are here.” I tell my best friend as we walk along the pavement in the dark. We’re on our way to the local Methodist Church where Raya’s aunt works for the Christian Youth Club thing.

It’s been weeks since I’ve spoken to Wendi or Darcy. I briefly saw them in classes at school on occasion, but we never spoke. Wendi would nod in my direction with a smile, but that was about it.

Harry had ignored my demand for him to not contact me. Several times for the next week after the incident, he called me and sent me hundreds of ‘sorry’ messages, but they weren’t enough. Only about a week ago did it seem to sink in that he’s no longer my boyfriend.

“My aunt wants me to get her something.” Raya tells me. It’s the exact same response she’s been using all night, taking us from our comfy chairs at her house during our sleepover. She hasn’t even told me what ‘something’ is.

We climb up the steps once we arrive and Raya unlocks the front door. I’ve been here a couple of times before, never for the actual Youth Club, however. The rectangular building has three main sections to it; the entrance, the ‘waiting room’ with a kitchen leading from it, and then the big room at the back.

Usually all three doors leading to the big room are locked at night, but only the front one is. The other two are propped open with doorstoppers. I warily step forward through the entrance hall, poking my head around the next door.

I look at the open gap and can see the big room is pitch black. I feel my body tingle with excitement. I feel like I’m being drawn into the room.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Raya says as she turns towards the kitchen, “Go in if you want.” She means the big room, and I’m not able to stop myself from going through the open door and into the dark.

I can barley see anything. From the moonlight shining through the high windows I can just about make out the stage at the far end of the room. Along the walls to my left and right I can see chairs piled high. And I’m sure I see someone’s shadow. “Hello?” I question the dark room.

I nearly jump right out of my skin as the stereo in the corner erupts into life. It crackles for a few seconds before the piano starts to play. I smile when I recognise the tune, Talking To The Moon, and I relax a little and allow myself to step forward only once.

Again, I nearly shoot through the roof when the words are accompanied with the song. I listen to this work of art all of the time, but I have never heard this version. A version where the music is artificial, belting out from the stereo, yet the voice is real, and in the same room as I am.

“I know you’re somewhere out there, somewhere far away,” sings the voice as a single spotlight throws a beam of white light at the stage, illuminating the singer, “I want you back, I want you back.”

Harry’s sat on a pile of chairs at the back of the stage, microphone in hand. One foot is resting on a smaller pile of chairs, the other dangling at its side. He isn’t looking at me in the centre of the floor, he’s just staring off into the distance. He’s practically glowing, his eyes shining in the bright light. I bite my lip.

He continues to sing as if he hasn’t even noticed I’m here. He’s deliberately avoiding looking at me. I will myself to move and I step forward so more light catches me.