I wandered aimlessly around the city. I wasn't sad and pessimistic any more. Sure, i looked like a sad clown but I really didn't care. The problem was not that I was afraid to talk about what i feel, the problem was that I was afraid to love. I experienced love, of course, the whole time i feel loved. I have caring family and friends but it's 'different' love. I felt my phone vibrate. "Where to the hell are you?!" my mom yelled into the mobile. I pulled the phone from my ear and looked at the screen. It's been 15 hours since I was at home and I had to come back after 3. I didn't realize that is already 3am. " I am- ermm. I forgot to tell you that i have sleepover in Natalia's flat" i came up with the most typical excuse. " Girls are calling me. Sorry, see you tomorrow. Love You" i hung up as fast as i could. Weather in London wasn't the worst even in the night but my hands and nose were freezing. I had nowhere to go. The only way to be indoors was to go to the bar, so i entered first better one. Lots of students, perverts and different people that i probably did not like. I ordered one beer to stay sober. They did not ask for ID, and even if they asked for it, they would not get it. 17-year-old alone in a bar after 3 in the morning. It wasn't rebellion against everything nor everyone, i am not that kind of person. "Fuck you" i heard familiar voice then a loud burst of laugh few tables away. Niall. Fucking fate, there's so many bars in London, i wandered for so long and i met him. I hid behind my jacket but curiosity won. I turned around to see with who he's sitting at the table. " Paulina!!" he noticed me and rushed in my direction. "How ar-" he smiled but then he stopped and glared at me with sad and worried expression " what happened?! what are you doing here alone? did someone hurts you?" he clenched his fists. Oh, yeah.. i had smeared make up all over my face and as if nothing happened i came to the bar for a drink. "What? No i am fine, why are you asking?" i smiled and played really dumb. " Paulina, don't to lie to me. We are friends, good friends. You can tell-" i felt a tight hug from behind. The worst thoughts came to me- Harry's standing right behind me. I didn't move. embrace weakened. " Fucking hell Paulina! I was so afraid. I was talking with Harry outside, he told me everything. I can't- are you okay? is everything fine? thank God nothing bad happened" i breathed a sigh of relief. It was Courtney- boys' friend. I met her about 7months ago and we get on really well. She's helpfull and caring friend. That's why she reacted with million of words. " Hi love. I am okay, thank you" i giggled and hugged her. That night i was bombarded with hundreds of questions. They were still asking me if i am fine. " You should meet him" Courtney said with a serious tone. Niall just nodded but i think he didn't even realized what exactly is going on between me and Harry. " Only if you're coming with me" i glanced at both of them. They smiled widely. We weren't sober. I drank a little bit more that night than i expected. At 5am we left the bar. Through the whole way we all were holding hands and singing loudly. "Excuse me" a deep male voice stopped us. We turned around. Cops. " Can i have your ID's?" he reached his hand in our direction. Niall was the one 'adult'. " I am sorry i have not my ID with myself but gentelmen please, we will be quite and polite. We are so sorry!" as usual I started my charming talk. They shook their head but also smiled a little bit, that was a good sign to still lead conversation. " but gentelmen, we are good citizens. People love music, don't they? They do! It's just our passion and we couldn't shut up but i promise that we will be the most peaceful people on the street...from now" They gave us a warning and left. " That's how you do it babees" i've made this strange finger move and all the three of us burst out laughing. "We want Horan hug!" Courtney threw her hands in the air and jumped like a little excited kid. We were standing on the street and hugging like an idiots. "Time to meet Styles" i sighed.
