I saved harry styles

Just Another Day at Work...

I'm driving down a semi-residential street in Malibu pushing the speed limit because I'm running super late when I see someone run into the street. I slam on my breaks to avoid hitting them just as they're approaching my car and I hear them yelling for help.

Usually, I would just keep driving, thinking it's someone who might be dangerous, but the voice sounds familiar and my hand is unlocking the doors before my mind has time to really think it through.

The man hops in the car while I'm still on autopilot so I start driving again.

"Thanks for stopping," The man says from my backseat, speeding up my processing of the situation. "A couple of guys back there had a knife and were trying to rob me."

I just let a stranger into my car. And it's not even my car, I think, not even processing the meaning of his words. Wait, why does his voice sound familiar?

I'm definitely a bit behind, but my brain is having trouble keeping up with my actions.

After another few moments of silence, the man speaks up again. I'm too lost in my thoughts to even realize that I should've responded to what he said.

"Are you okay?" he asks, leaning to the side and craning his neck around my seat a bit to try to look at me.

That's when I finally become a functioning human again and answer him.

"Yeah, sorry," I finally blurt out. "I was acting on instinct or something and didn't really process what you said. All of that happened so fast," I glance back at him in the rearview mirror as I'm talking and after glancing from him to the road a few times, I realize that I kind of recognize him.

He has the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head and it's dark so I can't completely make out his features, but he looks familiar.

"It's alright, I don't blame you. I'm just glad your instinct was to stop and let me in the car," He responds. For someone who was just held up at knifepoint, he's in a good mood.

"This might sound a little weird, but you seem really familiar. My name's Brooke, have we met before?" I ask, not able to shake the feeling that I know this guy.

"I'm not sure, I can't see you too well from back here. I'm Harry," he says.

That's when it hits me. Malibu. British accent. Harry... Harry Styles is in the back seat of my car.

I feel my jaw drop the slightest bit, shocked that anything this exciting is actually happening to me. After a few seconds, I realize I haven't said anything in response and need to get myself together.

"It's nice to meet you, Harry," I say politely, smiling back at him briefly through the rearview mirror.

"Well, Brooke I definitely owe you one. You saved my ass," He says with a little laugh. "Could you tell me where we're going, though?"

Oh shit. I didn't even think about the fact that I just kept driving and he has no clue where.

"Right, sorry. I probably should've filled you in on that part sooner," I respond with a little laugh, feeling guilty. "I would ask where you were headed and drop you off but I'm a TV reporter and I'm on a tight deadline and can't really stop. Are you cool with coming with me for now?"

Saying that brings me back to reality. I'm working and I don't have time to freak out or get distracted by my favorite person on the planet.

"Well, where are you headed?" He responds quickly.

"The police station."

My story for the 11 O'clock news tonight is about an arrest the police made on a 20-year-old murder case. I had just finished my interview with the family of the victim when Harry and I crossed paths