I was ushered by a man with sunglasses and a black wardrobe. I think he had introduced himself as Matt, but I so rushed that I wasn’t quite aware of everything. Just of the blur of people watching to see who was being escorted out of the hotel.
“There’ll be security at the restaurant, so you’ll be fine,” he assured, but I didn’t really need assurance so I just nodded as we waited for a car to come pick me up. It was of One Direction’s company cars I was told, and that they’d given it to Louis to borrow.
“Here you are,” were the last words I heard him say as a black range rover came into view, parking outside of the hotel curb.
Everything happened so fast with the famous. I guess it was because they were busy, but I wasn’t so used to it. I wasn’t used to being thrust into a car with a place to be and time to meet.
“Oh, um … hello,” I blurted, realizing after a good half minute that I wasn’t alone in the backseat of the car. “Zayn, right?” I asked in a mumble, eyes darting away from the boy to where my dress was riding up my thigh, my hand quickly fixing that idea.
When I looked back I saw that he had been looking where my hand was previously was, and his cheeks tinged with red when he realized he’d been caught in the act.
“It’s Zayn,” confirmed, shooting me a smile. “Sorry I hijacked your ride, but my car’s getting a repair and I hadn’t known you were taking this car and-” he rambled, but I just shrugged.
“I don’t have sharing issues,” I replied, “Though I didn’t play well with others, but I could split the wooden blocks evenly so they could leave me alone.” He nodded his head, slight movement that was easy to miss. “It was a joke,” I added, coughing, “you can, um, laugh if you want to make this situation less awkward.”
“It wasn’t awkward,” he protested.
“It is now.”
“You’re right,” he admitted, but the car ride was becoming a downward spiral. No, it wasn’t a spiral. It was a line, straight down. For a few minutes I wondered why he was being so quiet, and several thoughts ran across my mind, but it came back to one thing. One little thought nagging in my head. It needled its way into my thoughts every time I thought about him watching me, and before I knew it I blurted something that made me flush red.
“I’m not a stripper, or a prostitute, or anything like that,” I blurted, and I forced myself to meet his eyes. “I haven’t and never will do drugs. I’m not an alcoholic and the only time I had a drink was when I was given champagne on News Years.” I couldn’t stop myself. I just needed to clear everything up. Rid the assumptions he had made of me while I had a chance. “I haven’t always been on the streets, and I don’t regret my decision to run away. I’ve been fine.”
It was silent. Just for a second. It was a short, shrill second that rang like a glass bell.
“I’m sorry,” he replied. Simply. He didn’t mean he was sorry for what happened to me, just that he’d been naïve enough to assume all the stereotypes.
“And you’re forgiven,” I stated, tucking back my hair although it was already perfect. I was just looking for things that would take up the duration of the ride. Pull on my dress; scratch my arm, and then cough. These were all perfectly acceptable things to do.
“You look really great in that dress,” he complimented, and I gave him a thanking smile.
“You look subpar in that shirt,” I admitted, shrugging, and he laughed.
“Most girls would say I look like a sex god,” he replied, with a smile, but even though I’d said I forgiven him, I hated that he would make a quick judgment. That’s one of the first things you learn as kid, don’t judge a book by its cover.
“Well,” I started, looking at the wall in front of me, separating the driver from the two passengers, “I’m not religious, and even if I was, Aphrodite’s a woman.” He raised a brow, and I held back a snappy reply. Well, I held it back for .5 seconds before I blurted it.
“Are you surprised I’m educated?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, looking hurt. “I was just thinking that you were going to say you weren’t like most girls.” I lowered my eyes, feeling a pang of something similar to guilt.
“You don’t know nearly enough about me to predict what I’m going to say.”
“You just told me a lot about you,” he reminded.
“I just told you a lot of things that weren’t me,” I argued, and he shut his mouth because he knew I was right. “So, where are you going anyway?” I asked, hoping to steer the conversation somewhere else. I wasn’t exactly regretting what I said to Zayn, since he’d been quick to assume, but I felt bad pounding on the boy.
“To talk to my girlfriend,” he told me, and I nodded. Noticing that went absolutely nowhere I continued on that path, paving the road.
“About what?” I asked, pivoting myself in my seat to seat to look at him.
He hesitated, but he finally told me, “Ending things,” he admitted at last, and it took me a few seconds to realize what he had said.
“Oh,” I muttered, repositioning myself so I was staring at the black pleather wall.
“It’s not working out,” he added, and I wondered if he was trying to make the situation less awkward as well. If he was he was failing miserably. In order to swerve away from awkward you go for light and fluffy, not something like a boy breaking up wit his girlfriend.
“Well, I hope she takes it well,” I said, and I gave him a weak smile. I really meant it, I’d been in a relationship once when I with the King family. It wasn’t one for the history books, but it was nice, and I know I didn’t take it well when he broke up with me. But again, he had the worst reason known to mankind. “But you probably should give her a better reason than that,” I suggested, “I mean, it’s not working out is a bit vague.”
He nodded considering this, and then I realized that we had stopped driving, parked outside a restaurant.
“Well, this is me,” I announced, as if he didn’t already know that. “Oh and Zayn,” I said, looking back as I unlatched the car door, “I’m sorry.”
He smiled. “Forgiven.”
++++++
Dinner was uncomfortable. If I hadn’t already exhausted the word awkward that would be word used. Also the word awkward wasn’t quite right. Exhausted. Exhausted almost made the cut.
“Is there anywhere you and Lottie had been that you think she’d go to again?” Max would ask and I would shake my head, trying to dismiss the fact that cameras were slipped up from dinner tables, snapping pictures of our table.
“She’s smart,” I replied, “she’d go somewhere new.”
“But she doesn’t know anywhere else,” Louis protested, and I kindly took a sip of my drink. They offered to get me wine but I kindly declined and told them that my water was just fine.
“Like I said, she’s smart, and she’s street savvy,” I praised, although the two people in front of me obviously didn’t understand just how much of a compliment that was. “In a matter of weeks Lottie learned her way, so I think she’ll be fine out there on her own until we find her,” I continued, “She was taught by the best.” Which earned mixed reactions from my audience.
“Well, I guess I should say Thank-“ Max started by Louis cut him off.
“What exactly did you teach her?” Louis asked hesitantly. I was about to tell him how I got odd jobs here and there. Making a dime or shiny nickel, then what he was asking seeped in.
“Do I need to announce to the world that I’m not a prostitute? It’s just that I’m getting really tired of saying this. Three accusations in one day! Personal record I think,” I blurted, adding a snide remark at the end. “I-I don’t actually keep of record of that, I just said that to get my point across,” I quickly added, a weak grin as again I went for my water. At least a restaurant setting provided more ways to fill time, more than a car at least.
“I just needed to make sure,” he told me, guilt tinged in his eyes.
“I’m just tired of it that all,” I admitted, playing with the napkin on my lap. “Do I have the face of a hooker?” I asked Max joking, and he shook his head no a with warmhearted laugh.
“You have a lovely face,” he commented, and I smiled at the man. I didn’t mind Max, but I wasn’t a fan of Louis. So far the boy band members weren’t really working out.
“And to clear up any ideas, no your sister will not be on the side of the street selling herself,” I stated, looking on dead on at Louis. “Besides, does that seem like something you sister would do? I think Lot would be a bit offended.”
“I-I-I,” Louis started to stammer, eyes bugged. I shook my head, giving him the most amicable smile I could muster.
“I won’t tell Lottie when we find her,” I promised, and Louis smiled back, probably at both aspects of my sentence.
“Now that we’ve determined what isn’t your occupation,” Max started, handing over a stack of papers, “we need you sign this contract for us.” I looked at the collection of print, eyes skimming over the words, taking in the places where the ink had been smudged. “It says that you’re the Tomlinson’s, and you’ll try to find Charlotte. In return you’ll be receiving a furnished flat, paid for by Mr. Tomlinson. That is being looked into currently. You will also receive a weekly payment of 5,000 dollars until you find Charlotte.” I felt my eyes widen, but I couldn’t help it. That was more money than I’d ever possessed by a good few thousand dollars.
“And this isn’t written on the contract, but I’ll help you find a job after we find Lottie. Oh, and you can keep the flat,” Louis added, and I knew I should read into the contract further, look for secret agreements, but everything he said sounded absolutely incredible.
“Why are you giving me so much?” I asked him warily, only to keep myself from saying I’d take it and attacking the person with the nearest pen.
“If I can buy myself a new Ferrari in cash I can spend money trying to find my baby sister,” he told me, and I’d never seen him so serious, even with the circumstances.
“Do you a pen?” I asked, and immediately a blue pen was offered to me. With that my name was signed on the line that wasn’t actually dotted, just straight. Some people would say signing a contract with so many perks was like selling your soul to the devil. But they were wrong. I actually don’t sell any part of myself, physical. Besides, if I were selling my soul I’d be selling it help an angel.
Authors Note ~ Woah, I didn't just update less an week after my previous chapter did I? Oh my I did! I'm happy, mostly because it didn't take me 4 months to update, but also because there was some Fayn action in this chapter (admittly it was very awkward, but hey, it's can't all be rainbows and cupcakes can it?).
Also I noticed there a significant vote/comment ratio, and I get that some of you are made that I didn't update, but I did now! It means the world to me with every comment I get and they help me get ranked (which happened the other day! It was in the 800s in Teen Fiction, but still). By voting and commenting and simply reading this story I get closer to my goal of breaking into the fanfiction ranking. If we get in the fanfiction rankings by tomorrow night I will give you all an update on Tuesday (Eastern Coast time), I promise. But that can only happen with your comments and your votes! So please please please do those two things since you've already accomplished the reading part.
Ily, and best comment gets the dedication because ilysm.
xx,
Luce