When I Met Pewdipie

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

24 and alone. I'm all alone. Flying on a big plane internationally. I didn't know it was so difficult to move countries. I had to leave all of my friends and family. The thought of me out in the open world by myself brings horrific and helpless thoughts. Anything could happen to me out here.

I know Italy's a big place. Smaller than England ,though. I'm used to big, hustling cities with people and crowds. All I can see from my tiny window is rolling hills and the edge of a steep, rocky cliff. Just...nature.

This whole flight has been uncomfortable. Not only am I sitting next to an old man who seems to have pneumonia or something, but there's also a small child sitting next to me.

I steadily turn my head to the side where the little girl sits happily. She stares at the minuscule television her parents rented her. I groan and lean back in my seat, begging mentally for her to stop singing along to the movie and just nap or whatever.

The old man seems to be doing fine. Despite the fact that there is a growing mound of snotty tissues lying all over his seat and the floor. I shuffle nervously over in my own armchair, wanting so badly to get up and lock myself in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. Just half an hour to go.

I turn my attention to the small game console that beeps in my hand. I turn the gameboy's volume down as people start staring at me. Like I'm uncomfortable enough. I amerce myself in the tiny screen game world. I manage to be occupying myself pretty well.

I drown out all sounds. No more singing. No more sneezing. No more wind rushing past my window. The 8 bit graphics send me into a state of nostalgia as I grip the piece of plastic gratefully. I have no idea what I'm actually playing, but. Thank. God.

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"Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, the plane is now getting ready to land. Please make sure that you have your windows up, seatbelts secured, tray tables stowed away and all baggage in the appropriate areas. Thank you." A crackly voice sweeps through the air bus.

I switch the Gameboy off and stuff it in my jean pocket. I quickly buckle up and shut my eyes, breathing slowly. My stomach churns in anxiousness. I don't know anybody here.

I feel the plane descending as I see more of civilisation appear out of my window. The plane lands on solid ground with a jolt, sending my stomach flying all sorts of directions. The small girl starts wailing and the old mans tissues scatter everywhere. Gee, I'd hate to be a flight attendant.

I quickly unbuckle my seatbelt with excitement. Grabbing my satchel from underneath the seat, I stand up, mentally cursing the slow people already queued to exit the plane. I jump up and down on my toes with anxiety, not knowing what to expect from this new country.

The old man slowly shambles down the narrow aisle, followed by the small, teary girl. I grab the satchel by the strap and walk towards the exit of the near empty plane. I shuffle timidly down the carpeted strip of walkway, clutching my backpack and checking every few seconds that my Gameboy is still in my pocket.

Once I finally reach the exit, I say my thank yous to the crew standing at the doorway and then make my way through the large corridor adjacent to the plane.

My legs feel wobbly as I search for the baggage collection area. I follow the correct signs until I'm finally there. Now it's just a matter of waiting. Around me, I hear thick Italian accents clashing with English, Indian, Australian and all sorts of other voices. Despite all the distraction, I manage to keep my eyes focused on the carousel of luggage.

I see the familiar colour of turquoise creep around the edge of the black conveyer belt, so I step forward. My bag comes closer and closer and I contemplate whether ill be able to pick it up or not. It looks heavier than when I left.

When the bag is only a few feet away from me, I grab it by the handle and yank it up. Instead of it being extremely heavy, it's actually quite light. The force of me yanking it up, sends me flying backwards. I land on a thick concrete pillar with a thud and various people look at me. I frown.

Way to embarrass myself already, Clem.

I hitch both my two bags over my left shoulder and make my way to the main floor of the airport. Further, going through customs and Duty Free, before I actually make it to the elevator that will bring me to the entrance of the airport.

I press the up button and wait patiently for the carriage to arrive. A few other people are standing around me, either holding phones up to their ear or checking the time on their wristwatch. But I am the only one checking to see if I still have a Gameboy in my pocket.

Finally, the elevator arrives and I step in first, edging my way into the far corner of the steel box, trying to avoid getting squished by all of the bodies piling their way into the elevator. I cringe as all different smells waft through my nostrils. I try to hold my breath as we slowly move upwards, nearing our destination.

People cough and sneeze. I turn around in the corner so that I am facing the wall. The elevator slows as it nears stopping. The doors slide open and the vessel becomes more airy as people shuffle out.

I turn to walk out, realising that I am being faced with tons of people, waiting to greet their loved ones. It makes me feel like a loner. Which I am.

First priority: get some friends.

I take a deep breath of fresh air and make my way through the crowds of people. I glance up at a large, glowing clock that reads ten thirty two. Breakfast time. I manage to squeeze my way to a Starbucks with many excuse me's and sorry's.

I walk up to the counter.

"Hi, what can I get for you today?" Says the cashier, standing dimly at the cash register.

"Just whatever." I say, waving my hand towards the menu. She huffs and presses a few buttons on the machine.

"That'll be twelve euros." She says unenthusiastically. Oh crap. I haven't exchanged my money yet. I roll my eyes at my purse and look back up to the girl who is holding out her hand limply.

"Uh, sorry. Forget it.' I say, walking off. I hear her mutter something under her breath as I turn my back. I go to turn back around when I smash into someone. My head throbs as I quickly go to see who I had hit. Instead, I have to look up.

A man with messy blonde hair stares down at me with a slight smile. His blue eyes sparkle on his stubble worn face as I stand there, motionless, captivated by his sea like orbs. He snaps me back to attention.

"I'm so sorry." He says, ruffling the back of his head. He looks behind him, moving to the side for an old lady. But his head quickly snaps back to look at me. He holds up a knowing finger, pointing to me with it.

"Yeah so-" he cuts me off.

"Are you Clem?" He says, fumbling with his pockets. I furrow my eyebrows, slightly creeped out. How does he know me? He pulls out a crumpled piece of paper and reads over the writing with his finger.

I am unsure whether to nod or run away screaming. He looks from the paper, to me, then back down to the paper again.

"Yeah, I'm supposed to be picking you up." He says, stuffing it back into his pocket. I look at him suspiciously. He grins at me, slightly red cheeked.

"Picking me up?" I ask with disbelief, repeating what I had already heard. Who is he? I ordered for a taxi to pick me up, though. He nods and slips both of his hands into his jean pockets. I must admit, it's pretty cute.

"Uh, yeah. We're neighbours?" He says unsurely. I peer up at him, trying my best not to break out into total awe. He looks back at me with just as much confusion.

"Sorry, but I don't know who you are. No offence." I try to sound as nice as possible. I think I pulled it off judging by his chuckle.

"Well I got some email. Is this you?" He says holding up his phone with a bunch of details sprawled across the screen. I take a closer look. They're my details. I frown.

"I have to go. I ordered a taxi." I mutter, looking back up at him. How the hell did he get that information about me? He better not be some murderer. Oh god, what if he is? My palms start to get sweaty and I can feel my heart beating.

"All the taxis left half an hour ago." He says, chuckling. My eyes widen. I'm stuck here? With a potential murderer? I'm so stuffed.

"Uh..." I trail off, unsure what I'm going to do.

"Guess you're coming with me then." He shrugs, beaming down at me. I'm frozen. I can't go with this random guy I just met.

"You don't even know where I live." I say as a weak argument.

"I just said we are neighbours." He implies, as if to say 'duh'. I cross my arms over my chest.

"Well, I guess we'll be going now." He says, grabbing my arm and pulling me gently through the crowd. For a few seconds, his action hasn't registered. When it does, I start thrashing around. We keep pushing through the people who blatantly ignore me. What jerks.

"Get the hell off me!" I growl. He ignores me and keeps passing through the crowd of people.

I'm being abducted. Wait, what if he's actually telling the truth. If he was a notorious killer, his hand would be burning my arm. But this guy holds my bicep lightly. I could actually slip out.

Yes, I have to believe that he's actually helping me. He probably is my neighbour. My mother probably researched who was my neighbour, contacted him and what not. But why go through all that trouble?

He's actually not even pulling me, it's like he's leading me. Leading a wild, unstable foreign, girl. We do get a few dirty looks from strangers passing by, but noone tries to even help.

He walks me through a dimly lit car park. Is this where he's going to pull out a knife and slit my throat? No, that would be too out in the open. Wait, why the hell am I thinking about my murder? Besides, I refuse to believe that this man is a ruthless killer. I refuse because its for my own good. My mental good, that is.

The bags on my back seem to be getting heavier and heavier with each step I take with this mysterious man. My vision starts to go blurry. Suddenly, he uses one of his hands to pull out a car key. He presses a button and I look around mindlessly for the car that I will be stuffed in. It's probably a sadan, better boot to stuff me in.

Shut up Clem.

It's a convertible, though. He lets go of me and hops into the driving seat. I stand behind the car, helplessly. Taking a few shaky, unsure steps towards the passenger side.

I've got nowhere else to go. I place my hand onto the door handle, still contemplating whether I should follow him and believe him, or just take a chance and run. It's is practically a life or death choice. Except, I'm not so sure about the death part.

I can see him chuckle whilst rolling his eyes at me. How dare he roll his eyes. He's the one who knows if he is safe or not. After awhile he just leans over and opens the door for me. I take a step back so it can go all the way, allowing a few more seconds to think.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." He says, straight faced and softly. It's almost soothing. Is that an accent I detect? Swedish. This is all I need to believe him now. He seems so solemn and sure. He's telling the truth. I reach my hand over my back to place my bags down on the car floor. After of which, stepping in myself.

I try not to look at him once he starts the car and drives out of the airport. Suddenly, my consciousness kicks in, forcing me to snap my head to stare at him. He is slightly distracted by my sudden movement and the car swerves to the side a bit. Once he regains control he laughs. I point a finger at him.

"You look familiar." I say slowly, still squinting up at his face. He chuckles and looks over at me, one hand on the steering wheel.

"Yeah, I'm a super famous singer." He smirks, winking at me. I look at him in slight disgust as he just laughs at me. He starts to sing. Quite horribly at that.

"No, shut up. I've seen you in a jacksfilms video" I say, reminding myself to check my wifi when I get home. If I get home.

"I'm Felix." He introduces. I nod in appreciation. Well, know I know my capturers name. But I swear I've seen him somewhere before.

"And you know I'm Clementine." I imply. He looks over to me.

"Wait, your name is actually Clementine?" Felix asks in admiration. I nod. "Holy crap, that's amazing!" He sings. I look at him in confusion and once he sees he, he clears his throat and continues driving properly.

"May I ask wh-" he cuts me off once again.

"Sorry, it's just that I happened to notice the hat in your bag." He says smoothly. I lean down and grab the old cap in suspicion. What's so special about the hat?

"The one my dad got me?" I ask. His eyes widen with a smile. He uses one hand to grab the royal blue hat. He skims his fingers over the sowed on letter d.

"That's so amazing. Is it like an exclusive or something?" He asks in fascination. I shake my head slowly, having no idea what he's talking about.

"I don't know what you mean..." I say. He looks at me with amazement.

"You really don't know the walking dead, do you?" He asks in astonishment. I roll my eyes. How is that question even relevant?

"I'm not that into zombies." I say, turning and looking out the window. I keep feeling Felix glance over to look at me. It gives me goosebumps.

"Well, is your dad?" He asks, implying that at least someone in my family has to like living dead things.

"I never get to see him that much." I say softly. At that, Felix goes silent, turning his full attention back to the road. The highway we are now driving on, is quite empty, making it easier to get to our destination.

I shuffle in my seat, due to the sudden outbreak of awkward silence.

This is going to be a long ride.

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Hey guys so here is the NEW BRAND NEW chapter 1. I think I'm gonna rewrite the first five or six...sooo...yah.

👊👄 BROKISS OUT

-BrofistofPewdiecry