still. // nh

two

Marc was right.

As the ferry boat I was on started to approach a tiny island that must be Maya Bay, the calm of the ocean started to be interrupted by the roar of speedboats and other ferries going to the same place.

But he was also right in emphasizing the beauty of it. Even from up in the ferry, I could see the clear blue of the water, contrasting starkly with the white sand on the beach and the green trees and bushes just behind it. Instinctively, I reached to grab my phone to take a picture before stopping myself. Pictures never seemed to do anything justice, and I felt that this place deserved more than to be reduced to mere pixels on a screen to be analyzed later.

Plus, a part of me didn't even want to glimpse the messages that I knew were waiting for me.

The ferry slowly came to a stop, and I followed the rest of the tourists onto the doc, finally feeling my chest loosen a little bit when I stepped onto the white sand. It was as soft as it looked from the boat, and I couldn't help but reach down to slip the sandals off my feet and tuck them instead into my small backpack.

The bay was absolutely breathtaking. It was surrounded on three sides by rolling green hills, creating a U-shaped beach currently littered with sunbathers. All around me was the overlapping chatter of multiple languages, accompanied every so often by the cawing of a bird or the crash of an ocean wave.

I turned in a slow circle, taking it all in as best I could when my eyes caught on a boy just a few feet away from me. He had his back to the sea, the sun bouncing off of his bare skin as he smiled into the phone he was holding a few inches away from his face before shielding his eyes from the sun to look at the photo. Almost immediately, I recognized who he was; it was hard not to when his band topped the music industry for five years, only to abruptly call a hiatus just when it seemed they had broken the top. Somehow, for some reason, Niall Horan from One Direction was standing on Maya Bay.

He caught me looking at him, and his shoulders seemed to slump ever so slightly. It only took him a few steps before he was standing right in front of me, rubbing a hand tiredly across his slightly sunburned face.

"Can I, uh, ask you a favor?"

I nodded, not quite knowing what he could possibly be asking me for. I wasn't one to normally get starstruck; living in LA since the time I was a baby had exposed me to seeing celebrities out and about on an almost daily basis. I think it was more so the fact that out of everywhere I could possibly run into a celebrity like Niall Horan, out of everywhere the LA could reach me, it's here, on this island in the middle of the sea, on Maya Bay.

"Listen, if you want, I can sign your... bookbag, or something, but please, can we not take a picture? Or tell anyone you saw me here?" He seemed nervous as he asked this, his thumbs hooked into the straps of the backpack that hung on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry?" I couldn't quite catch on to what exactly he was wanting. "Take a picture...?"

"I mean, if you really want a picture, of course, yeah, but... I'm just trying to sort of-- enjoy the scenery, you know?"

My eyes widened as I finally caught on. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm not-- like a fan."

His eyebrows shot up at that, his grip visibly loosening. "Not a fan?"

"I mean... sorry, that was rude, I am a fan, I know who you are, I like your music and all, but not like-- not a fan like that, I guess?" I knew I was full on rambling, the words tripping out of my mouth, and I hated it. I suddenly wished I was back with Chiara and Marc and their group, making easy conversation, instead of standing here worrying about what to say to an international celebrity and how it would be perceived.