Journaling our love | Liam Payne x Marie [Oc]

Chapter 1: Coffee

Marie hated festivals. Or at least, that’s what she told herself every time she got stuck in a sea of sweaty bodies, all shouting over the pounding bass of a band she couldn’t name. The sun was relentless, her iced coffee was melting, and the strap of her bag had rubbed a raw line into her shoulder.

She adjusted her press badge, which felt like a cruel joke. “Writer” wasn’t supposed to mean “sweaty nobody lugging around a notebook for a story that may not even get published.” But here she was, weaving through the crowd at the Summer Notes Festival, hoping the headline would find her before she died of heatstroke.

And, of course, her iced coffee tipped out of her hand and splashed all over someone’s chest.

“Oh, my God—crap—I’m so sorry!” she sputtered, grabbing for the napkins in her bag.

“Ah, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

The voice was calm, distinctly British, and familiar enough to stop her in her tracks. She looked up and froze. It wasn’t just anyone standing there, wiping at his hoodie with the edge of his sleeve. It was Liam Payne.

Her brain short-circuited.

“You’re…” she started, her voice trailing off like a broken record.

Liam raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a polite, slightly amused smile. “Still sticky, yeah.”

“Oh my God,” Marie blurted, shaking her head. “I’m such an idiot. I swear I didn’t mean—like, I wasn’t watching where I was going—”

“It’s coffee, not lava,” he said, that dimpled smile making her heart race. “Really, it’s okay.”

Marie’s face burned, and she shoved a crumpled napkin in his direction. “At least let me help. I feel like a complete idiot.”

Liam hesitated for a second, then took the napkin, his fingers brushing hers briefly. “Well, thanks for that. You always this dangerous, or is it just me?”

The humor in his voice caught her off guard, and she let out an awkward laugh. “Honestly? It’s a public menace kind of day. So, uh… sorry for being part of the chaos.”

“Part of it? Feels like you’re leading the charge.”

Marie groaned, half-laughing, half-horrified. “Don’t remind me.”

They stood there for a moment, the awkwardness settling into something softer. She glanced down at her press badge, fumbling for words. “I… I actually write for this tiny online magazine. I’m supposed to be, you know, finding a story. Which is definitely not ‘woman assaults pop star with coffee.’”

Liam let out a laugh, a genuine one that made her stomach flip. “That’d sell more copies, though. ‘Boyband Member Hospitalized by Iced Latte.’”

Marie grinned, shaking her head. “Yeah, except the lawsuit would bankrupt me, so maybe let’s not.”

“You’d probably get a GoFundMe out of it,” Liam said with a smirk. “People love a good underdog story.”

She laughed again, a real laugh this time. For a split second, she forgot who she was talking to. He wasn’t “Liam Payne of One Direction” right now; he was just a guy in a coffee-stained hoodie making her laugh.

“So,” he said, nodding toward her lanyard, “what kind of story are you looking for? Besides, you know, accidental crimes.”

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted, glancing at the crowd around them. “Something real, I guess. Something that doesn’t feel like a press release.” She shrugged. “Not that you’d care, but my editor thinks I’m hopeless.”

Liam tilted his head, studying her. “I care.”

She blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I mean, I care enough to think your editor sounds like a bit of a dick,” he clarified, grinning. “Everyone’s gotta start somewhere, right?”

Marie stared at him, completely thrown off. Was this her life now? Was she really having a casual conversation with Liam Payne about her career?

“I—yeah, I guess so,” she said finally, her voice softer. “Thanks, I think.”

“Don’t mention it.” He adjusted the hood of his sweatshirt, suddenly looking around like he was trying to stay low-key. “Anyway, you good now? Or should I be worried about round two?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No, you’re safe. I’m out of coffee.”

“Small mercies,” he said, flashing that grin again.

And then, just like that, he gave her a small nod and started to walk away.

Marie panicked. This was her chance—her only chance—and she was blowing it.

“Wait!” she called out.

Liam turned back, his eyebrows raised.

“I just… I’m sorry. Again. And thank you. And—” She paused, struggling to put the rest of her thoughts into words. “I don’t know. You’ve been my favorite for years, and this is insane, and I’m probably embarrassing myself, but you’re just… really cool. So thanks for not making this worse.”

Liam’s expression softened, and for a moment, he just looked at her. “You’re not embarrassing yourself,” he said finally. “And, hey, I’ve had worse first impressions.”

Marie let out a nervous laugh, feeling like she might actually combust. “That’s… comforting, I think?”

“It’s meant to be.” He gave her a small smile. “Take care, yeah?”

Before she could say anything else, he was gone, slipping into the crowd like he’d never been there.

Marie stood there for a long moment, staring after him. Then she looked down at her phone, wishing she’d had the guts to ask for a picture—or even just his autograph.

But the more she thought about it, the more she realized she didn’t need one. This was hers. A story she could carry, just for herself.

For now.