The Directioners' Job

Five

Blair's POV:

"No! Stop!" I shout as I watch a Policeman handcuff Harry and drag him away. "Please!" I cry, trying to run to him, but realising the Policeman holding me had now cuffed me too. I glared at the wide-eyed Sasha as they now dragged me away. 

The Policeman had dragged me out of the house, and I could hear Sasha being pulled about from behind us as I started pulling away. I wriggled and struggled to get away, to get to Harry - who I could see not too far in front of us. Fangirls and paparazzi were spread everywhere. Flashes coming from the cameras in every direction, and girls screaming all kind of rude things at me. "Harry!" I screamed as I was taken to a Police car.

"Blair!" He shouted back as a Policeman bent him down and forcefully pushed him into the back of a separate Police car.

"Harry!!" I screamed once more before I was forcefully shoved into the back of the car. 

"Sit still and stop struggling." One of the Policeman told me as he and another Policeman sat beside me, squishing me in the middle seat. I squinted my eyes as tear-drops began falling from them, so many things were happening that I hadn't actually realised I was now full-on crying. 

After a while I had calmed down a little as the tears dried on my face. I watched out the windows as people stared at the speeding Police car driving by. Was this actually happening?!  

"Please," I beg to the Policeman as we pull in at, what I'm guessing is the Police-station, "I just want to be with Harry."

They ignore my plea and I soon felt my arm being yanked. I look up and saw the brown-haired Policeman standing outside of the car, pulling me out with him. I felt myself building up with anger and tears again as I hesitantly got out of the car.

"Blair!" I heard a familiar blood-curdling scream. 

"Harry!" I call back, looking ahead of me as I saw him disappear into the Police-station. "Harry!!"

They took me past reception, and down a corridor where I was thrown into an empty cell. Is this the end? The end of everything? What's going to happen with Harry? What is Harry going to say? He loves me, don't he?

"Blair Dalia," A Policeman speaks, shaking me out of my disturbing thoughts, "Come, your interview room is ready."

I gulp as I follow him out of the cell into a near-empty room. My hands were shaking as I sat down at the table.

The Detective opposite me turns on his recording device, "November 23rd, 2015. The time now is 3:55pm. I am Detective Robert - present. Suspect Blair Dalia - present."

I look around the room, panic striking through my body.

"Blair, where was you on Tuesday, the 17th of November, 2015 at 8:32pm?" He asks, staring deep into my soul.

"I... I..." I stuttered, "I was with Harry..." I admit, looking down at my fingernails as he writes it down on his notepad.

"And how was Mr. Styles? Did he seem ok? Did he seem happy?" Detective Robert asks.

"What are you trying to say? That I took him against his will?!" I shout, immediately regretting it when he started writing things down again. "I'm sorry, I mean..." I begin speaking quieter, "He... He seemed fine."

"And what did you and Mr. Styles do that night?" He questions, and I instantly blush - a naughty, but helpful, thought coming to mind.

"Urm, that's a bit personal..." I laugh, hoping it would've got him off my back.

He shifts in his chair, "I don't care. Do you see me laughing?! Now, what did you and Mr. Styles do that night?" 

I clear my throat, "We, er... We took a walk... No, sorry, we just went straight back to the hotel after his concert."

"Took a walk..." The Detective mutters, writing more things down, "When did you and Mr. Styles first meet? Have you been friends long?"

"Er, no." I reply, my mind racing, "We met at the concert. And, er-"

"What? You instantly fell in love, is that it?" Detective Rob interrupts, putting more pressure onto me.

"No, no, of course not. We met backstage and he, urm, asked for my... Oh no, sorry," I laugh. I thought I'd say he asked for my number - but then they can check as see that he hasn't got my number, "We went straight from the concert back to mine."

The Detective glares at me, "Are you sure? A popstar has a very busy schedule, his manager would not have let him leave to go to a strangers house straight after performing."

"And you'd know, would you?" I respond, "Are you a popstar?" I raise my eyebrows at him with a smug smile as he looks away and writes things down again.

"Ok, let's assume what you're saying is true, did Styles go willingly with you?" He asks, infuriating me.

"Yes, he did. He was very eager." I said, adding a little cheekiness to the last bit.

He looked at his watch, "Time 4:14pm. End of interview." And turned the recorder off.

"What's going to happen with me?" I ask him as he walked away from the table.

"Well, unfortunately we haven't got enough evidence to keep you here. However, this is a mega famous person we're talking about-" He began.

"And what?!" I interrupt, "You can't bend the rules just because he's famous! And you know that!" I shout, knowing I was getting under his skin.

He sighs faintly, "You're right. I guess you're free to go then." He said, stroking his hand through his greying hair as he left the room.