All good things

Falling, in love...

Famous artwork hangs on the walls that snake through the inside of this majestic hotel. Van Gough, Davinci, Monet, Vermeer, some of the most exquisite art in the world is hung in this hallway but they're all copies. I mean who would put the original in a hotel? They deserve to be in a museum and hopefully, one day, my artwork will be presented among them. But I mustn't get carried away.

I came here to be something. Well isn't Los' Angeles where everybody comes to be someone? But I'd saved up all of my spare money since the age of 14 and come all this way, from my tiny home country of New Zealand to get here. This spot where I am standing, to pursue my dream of becoming a famous architect!

So far it was going good. I have only been here a week at least and already I had a few job interviews on the line up. Despite my big ambitions I was still grounded and sown to earth and when I stop and catch my reflection in a large, full length mirror I'm sure anyone can see this is probably not the ideal place for me. I just look a little odd in the fancy backdrop, so much for feeling mature!

My straight brown hair is up in a messy top-knot and my old, grey ripped skinny jeans can easily be mistaken for scruffy track-pants if you're not standing too close. My skimpy white tank top gives me a laugh, especially when a high class businessman struts past, sporting an official pile of documents under his arm. Once he's out of earshot I burst out laughing. Yep I'm definitely out of place!

A sudden trembling of the floor startles me. Instantly my whole body screams EARTHQUAKE! But an unheard voice, somewhere in my heart, tells me it's not.

Rooted to the ground I stand waiting for something major to happen. Out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of something red and stripey running towards me. It's sprinting and bounding like a hyperactive puppy.

"Aiiii!" the colorful creature screams.

I shut my eyes, pin my limbs to my side and wait for the impact. Two hands clamp my shoulders, slowing the pressure and avoiding a major collision. I risk opening an eye, to see a handsome, panicked, flushed and excited face looming over me.

"Sorry!" He whispers. More thundering footsteps follow from where the handsome boy came from, "Quick, please hide me!"

I scan the hall for a good hiding place, my eyes landing on a laundry shoot. "Um that laundry shoot!" I say, it's the best I can think of on the spot. Mr. handsome dives into the compact space almost before I can open the little doors.

"Hurry, hop in with me!" he says it so fast the words fall over themselves.

"No I can't!" I start to say, thinking quick for a legit excuse. The handsome young man gives me a quizzical look and when nothing comes to me I blurt out the truth. "I'm claustrophobic!" and quickly shut the door.

Just in time too because a sumo sized security guard stomps around the corner.

"You seen Louis Tomlinson?" He grunts, sounding more like a demand then a question.

"Who?" I ask in my most innocent voice. He seems dumbfounded by my response.

"Err Louis Tomlinson, of the British boy band One Direction?"

I am bursting at the seems trying not to laugh at the big mans stupid expression. "One Di-what? I'm sorry you've lost me!"

"You're telling me you've never herd of One Direction?" he shouts, he looks almost angry at me. "Well, he's a cheeky lad, dressed like he owns a boat?"

The guards patience is running out. I shake my head "I'm sorry I don't know what direction you're heading in but there's a mini bar just down there, I've heard they make great Americanos! Oh and I haven't seen anyone dressed like they own a boat since 1930,"