One Song (A Script fanfic) (Completed)

Chapter 1

Ok so I don't know where this is going, I just suddenly wanted to write this, it popped in my head suddenly.

DISCLAIMER- THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. THIS IS NOT A REAL LIFE ACCOUNT. ALL IS FICTION. I DO NOT OWN ANY OF IT EXPECT MY OWN CHARACTERS AND STORYLINE.

Selena's POV

I hurried through the dark streets of Dublin, my 6-inch killer heels making noises on the pavement. I pulled my cropped suede jacket tighter around myself, shivering as the bitter wind sliced at my body. My hair, which earlier had been perfectly curled and styled, blew wildly about my face, obscuring my view. Why had I left that club? It may have been loud and filled with obnoxious sluts but at least it had been warm. It had been a good place to go after The Script's concert.

I kept walking, squinting as I passed under a bright streetlight. I took out my phone and checked the time. Two am. A light flashed on the screen and then it went dead. Great, no battery, no way home, no idea where the hell I was.

The street was empty, no cars on the roads, no people. Not even drunken stragglers from the many nightclubs wandered the streets. The only sounds that could be heard were the faint blaring of music far away, and my own footsteps. My breath came quick and fast. I had always hated the streets at night. Normally I would never be here, miles from home, alone at this time, but when I saw Sam on her way back to the hotel with that guy I figured I did not want to share a hotel room with them for the next few hours.

So now I found myself here, on a dark Dublin street, walking with no destination and no clue. I stopped suddenly, turning on my heel and looking back the way I had come. I'd been walking for over an hour and a half now, maybe it was time to go back. I began to walk in the opposite direction, passing the streetlight again. If I walked slowly, I would make it back to the hotel at around five, maybe before then. I suppose if I got desperate I could sleep on one of those comfy looking leather sofas I'd seen in the hotel lobby earlier.

I shivered again, passing the same pitch black alleyway I had earlier. I glanced into it, not really wanting to know what could lurk in the creeping shadows. I shook my head, my imagination was getting ahead of me again. Still, I walked a little quicker, wanting to get past the alleyway as soon as possible.

A chill grew up my spine as I finally got past the alley. I sped up more, trying to reach the next streetlight, which looked warm and inviting compared to anything else. A noise made my blood run cold. Another pair of footsteps. I felt my eyes widen and my heart pound, but I kept my pace, trying not to look as terrified as I felt. Another set of footsteps joined mine, then another. Three.

I willed myself to turn around, to see who was tailing me, but fear overcame me. I took my useless phone back out, flipping it over so I could see the polished silver surface on the back. I lifted it slightly, seeing my own horror struck reflection. Angling it, I saw what I had already suspected. Three men following me.

They were tall, broad and strong, with a strange glint in their eyes. I lowered my phone and placed it back in my minuscule silver clutch bag. I attached the strap to it quickly, fumbling with the tiny clasp, then I slung it over my head and across my body, quickening my pace once more. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, my breathing shallow and forced. I slid my hand back in my bag and felt around for anything that could be of use to me. Mascara, lipstick, purse, key card. Nothing that could help me, not in this situation. Another alleyway was coming up, the footsteps were getting closer. I heard a low voice call out "Where you going girly?" It cried, with a thick Dublin accent. "Why're you running?" I shivered, then suddenly made a snap decision.

As I passed the alleyway I ducked into it, then bolted. I knew I couldn't run very far in these heels, so I rounded a corner and flung them off, not caring if my bare feet got damaged. I didn't want to think of what the alternative was. I heard the men's heavy footfalls behind me, they knew where they were going and were a lot fitter than me. I spurred on, willing my body to go faster, but the alcohol in my system disagreed. My head started to spin and a wave of nausea crept up on me. I was really starting to regret those last few shots of whiskey and vodka. Still I pushed on, my feeling of dread growing as the men got closer.