Take It Off

Chapter One

February 7, 2015 was always destined to go one of two ways – either it would end up being the most glorious, unforgettable day of my life, or it would go down in history as the worst. Day. Ever.

Years ago, the global government decided that there was far too much hatred and divorce in our world, and not nearly enough love. They came up with a solution – when a baby is born, they are immediately marked with a countdown on their wrist. Years, months, days, seconds. From the moment you are born, you know exactly how long it will be before you meet your soul mate.

All throughout my life, I tried not to think about the fact that I was literally a ticking time bomb until I met the person I was destined to spend the rest of my life with. What would happen if we absolutely despised each other? What if the day came and went without me meeting anyone, and I end up alone forever? But as the day crept closer, it got harder and harder to ignore.

The feeling of impending doom almost tripled once I was scheduled to start my newest job on the exact day I had been dreading. After being family friends with Caroline Watson for as long as I could remember, I was offered a job working in the wardrobe department for One Direction's On The Road Again tour. Not just any old job though, I was to be Caroline's right-hand-woman and personally help dress the boys for every show. Spending eight months travelling the world while simultaneously getting my foot in the door of the fashion industry was an offer that I could never in a million years pass up.

Currently, it was 9:42 PM, on the opening night of the entire tour. We were in Sydney, of all places, in a stadium filled with 62,000 screaming fans. I had 16 minutes. 16 minutes until I meet the person destined to be my other half for the rest of my life. 16 minutes until I was no longer single. 16 minutes before my life would irreversibly change.

So what was I doing? Hiding in the staff washroom backstage, of course.

I had hurried through the wardrobe routine as fast as humanly possible, running myself to the washroom with the excuse of a stomachache. Technically, that wasn't a lie, since I literally felt like I could throw up all over the ground in a matter of minutes.

15 minutes now, until my life changed forever. Gripping the sink with two hands, I stared at myself in the mirror. There wasn't anything special about me. Stick straight blonde hair, green eyes, average height... Nothing that would make me stick out in a crowd of people. Frowning at my reflection, I figured that I should probably at least attempt to make myself look good. Fishing through my purse, I pulled out my makeup bag and went to work, fixing smudged eyeliner and touching up faded lipstick.

My phone buzzed and I pulled it out, checking the time as I did – 9:51. 7 minutes left.

Good luck with everything tonight, darling! I know you'll be great. Xx – Mom

I tapped out a reply, biting my nail aimlessly before shoving my hand back down to my side once I realized what I was doing. Tossing my phone back into my purse and gathering up my makeup, I started pacing around the little room giving myself a little pep talk for what was about to happen.

Okay, Marissa. You can do this. If it's going to happen in the next five minutes, it has to be someone working on the crew. That's good; you'll have eight months to get to know each other. And he can't be some massive creep since he had to have a security check to even get the job. So it's not like you won't be safe. Maybe you've already met him, maybe he was in the cafeteria earlier and you just didn't notice him? Okay, if you want to meet anyone though, you need to get out of the women's washroom and backstage where the other people are. You can't meet your soul mate if you're alone in a bath-

I gathered up my bag and reached out for the door handle, when it was unexpectedly shoved open by someone muttering frantically – "Fuck, stupid zipper, just c'mon-," just before a body collided with mine.

At that exact same moment, a sharp jolt went through my entire body, ending where I knew the countdown was hidden under my watch on my wrist. And by the way the other person reacted too, I knew they felt the same jolt. This was it – this was my soul mate.

Staggering back fighting for my balance, I looked up at the face of the very MALE person who had just stormed into the women's washroom. With one hand still holding on to the zipper of his fly, I was looking into the eyes of none other than Harry Styles himself. My mouth opened and closed a few times, definitely making me look like a total moron in front of my match.

"Uh, hi" he gasped, sounding rather out of place in his low, slow drawl. "So you're my girl."

Somehow, my brain remembered how to work and I shook myself out of the shock I was in. "Uh, yeah. And you're my boy... You do know this is the women's washroom, don't you?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

He looked up at the little stick figure on the door, frowning at the figure that was clearly wearing a dress. His cheeks turned a little pink, before he looked back down at me.

"I know that now..." he drawled. I giggled at the look on his face.

Suddenly his headset crackled to life. "Styles? Where are you, encore starts in 30."

With that, it was almost as if a bubble was popped, dropping both of us back into reality as we realized just what had happened.

"Shit shit shit, I still have to pee," he cursed under his breath, pushing past me and into the little stall. I took that chance to quietly exit, standing outside in the hallway instead. Less than 15 seconds later, Harry shoved his way out of the bathroom, almost running back to the stage.

I followed after him, figuring I should be in the wardrobe room for the end of the show. He stopped short before the edge of the stage though, turning back and pulling out one of his in-ears.

"Can I at least know your name?" He asked, a little smile playing on the edge of his lips.

"It's Marissa." I answered.

"Marissa..." He said quietly, almost as if he was trying the name out to see how it felt on his tongue. "I like that."

And with that, he was back on stage in front of 62,000 fans. I rubbed my tingling wrist softly. It had happened so quickly, it was almost as if it didn't ever happen at all. Undoing the clasp on my watch and slipping it off my wrist, I looked down at the black numbers inked into my skin.

00:00:00:00. It was real.