The Wink

Chapter Three: I Walk into One Direction's Mansion

Chapter Three: I Walk into One Direction's Mansion

Harry and I got in One Direction's limousine and drove to Harry's mansion. The ride was quiet and sort of awkward, but within a couple days we reached a dark, tall, dark, ebony, dark, black, dark, tall, dark house. It was the kind of house Gru lived in in Despicable Me... but minus all the dry grass. I supposed we were in England already.

Lining the perimeter of the grand, spectacularly amazayn mansion stood ten dozen soldiers with "Fablouis" shirts on, and guns by their sides. Each wore a pair of the darkest aviators I had ever seen in my whole life, Laugh Out Loud! I guess I was never outside before to really notice such a horrifying trend in our modern day society. I'm not the best point of view, but... oh, well!

As Harry and I stepped out of the limo, the whirring noise of a helicopter filled the air, the sound as loud as that of a typical One Direction concert. A blinding spotlight beamed down at us while the metallic beast hovered above us, the force of its propellers causing dust to swirl around us in thick clouds.

My wavy, waist-length, silky, long blonde hair whipped around my perfect, flawless face and my wide, crystal blue eyes narrowed as dust flew into them, making them water with perfectly-shaped tears. I raised my perfectly waxed and delicately trimmed eyebrows which definitely were on fleek at the sight, gritted my perfectly straight, long, perfect white teeth, and put a perfectly manicured hand above my eyes to attempt to shield them from the potentially dangerous debris storming around me like the hurricane-like tornado in Sharknado. I must have looked so much more ugly than usual.

I started to freak out, a little put off by the bright circle of life illuminating me, as well as Harry and maybe even the rest of the band members, except Zayn. But honestly I was so focused on Harry's eyebrows, I didn't care about them or Zayn. I probably looked even uglier than before, but I wasn't so sure. I wanted clarification, so I turned to Harry and said, "Harry, dear."

My beloved Bambi deer winked at me suggestively once again in a seductive way. I waved it off. "Oi, my bloody love?"

"I want tea, love," I admitted, mocking Harry's pet names. "I also want to know how ugly I look. And maybe some Nemo later, you know?"

He winked again. "Gotcha, luv."

"The name's Georgia Rose."

"Is that short for something?"

A steady frown made its way on my face. "No."

"You sure?" Harry regarded me oddly. "Luv? Lovely? Lover? Low-life? None of those?"

"Try Georgia," I offered. "I usually go by that."

"Is that short for something, luv?"

"Yes. The-American-State-of-Georgia... but I go just by Georgia."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Right, right. Gotcha, Curious George."

"The origins of the word "monkey" are unclear. It could come from Moneke, the name of the son of Martin the Ape in a medieval animal story. It appears also to be related to manikin, from the Dutch manneken ("little man")," I responded instinctively "Source, http://facts.randomhistory.com/2008/12/15_monkeys.html."

Harry looked at me strangely. "What's an underscore?"

"Underscore. The underscore [ _ ] (also called understrike, underbar, or underline) is a character that originally appeared on the typewriter and was primarily used to underline words. Source, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Underscore," I replied.

Harry Styles put his hand in mine and waved a hand up at the helicopter above us. The guy up in the helicopter somehow must have seen this complicated, easily missed signal because he sent the helicopter away into the clouds above. Or... I hoped they were clouds. I didn't know with the night around us. And as a matter of fact, looking up at the clouds and seeing all the dust around us settling, I began to feel a painful sensation in my stomach signalling my body was at a lack of energy. I needed to eat something, and fast.

With the spotlight gone and the night more peaceful around us, I began to feel more at ease. Harry grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs to the grand door. Honestly, I hadn't expected a door that huge. It made sense that door was used by 30 feet tall giants, certainly not a 5 ft tall me, nor a 5 ft 11 tall Harry.

Anyway, Harry strolled right up the expensive-looking, shiny marble flooring, pushed open the door, leaving his fingerprints behind. I made a mental note to scan the door later for more. I didn't know how much Harry's fingerprints sold for on ebay, but I was pretty sure it was more than one buck... and I was in a lot of need for game to hunt recently, especially since I had forty-two pounds of oats I didn't know what to do with.

Harry pushed open the door to a vast wonderland. I shook like a leaf and my eyebrows quivered at the sight. They so weren't on fleek anymore, dawg. It was like my legs were frozen in place, and it didn't have to do with the freezing atmosphere, although I had to admit, it was part of my issue. I had to hold my breath to restrain from missing out on all the beauty around me. Crystal sculptures lined the perimeter, each comprised of fancy-looking, very expensive poses of every One Direction member. Each boy stood proudly, one with an arm up in a confident fist, another frowning in a chaotically neutral way, Niall holding up a red apple in his hands, pouting. At least a dozen hallways split off from the room, the walls embroidered with what I thought was gold.

It was 31415926535897932384626433832795x better than my bedroom at home, as I only had the cardboard cutout of Harry standing next to my bed (so that every time I woke up, his face was the first one I saw each morning. It was truly the best and only thing I owned besides half a dignity, the lesser half of a brain, and the 1D tickets [although technically they weren't mine. They were my parents']).

I instinctively ran up to the biggest, and most recognizable ice statue, and proceeded licking it like a savage dog. A small part of my mind reasoned the cold atmosphere with the ice statues. It was only to keep the ice from melting. Whoever sculpted these was certainly one heck of a Donatello.

Suddenly, the room just screamed run! to me, and so I did. I couldn't take it anymore. I removed my tongue from ice Harry's shoe, yanked myself away from Harry's hand, and ran as fast as my legs could take me, down a random corridor I hoped would take me to the exit... if there were any in this prison. But there wasn't. I found out rather quickly there wasn't.

Dead end after dead end after dead end.

I was done.

It was like someone had flicked on a lightbulb in my head. This was wrong. This was very, very wrong. I was in a stranger's house about to... what? What was I going to do?

I groaned out loud, and slumped against the white marble of the mile-long hallway. Now that I thought about it, everything in the house seemed to be a white, spotless marble. It was giving me a headache just looking at all of it so much.

Why had I been so smitten with Harry Styles of One Direction? I asked myself. What was it that brought me here with him? And... My eyes widened at this next realization. Shouldn't I have been home for dinner? And worst of all... What happened to Snapdragon Chrysanthemum Florida, my bff4lyfe?

I didn't know the answers to any of those questions... but I did know one thing for sure. I needed to get out of here. And I would do anything to do it.

With that, I picked my worthless, ugly self off the marble ground and stood up. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, I told myself, eyeing the fire extinguisher at the end of the mile-long hallway.

Those One Direction freaks were going down for brainwashing me up until now.

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HEYYO STANK HOES!!! REMEMMEMBRRR 2 SENDD USSSS ALL DA FANART BRUHS YO YO DAWGS