Best Song Ever; A Harry Styles Story

Chapter Six: Another World

PART TWO BEGINS...MWAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA

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As soon as I set foot in Washington D.C, I ducked into an awaiting taxi. I didn't even have time to even look around; I was informed by Mr Cowell that apparently One Direction's fans and the paparazzi had caught wind of a new assistant tour manager joining their band of boys on their tour, and it was imperative that I would leave the airport unseen, so they didn't try to do anything crazy, like follow us to the artists' hotel.

I sank into the leather seat, ready to just sleep after the long flight, when the taxi driver's voice jarred my plans.

"Where to Miss?" The taxi driver asked in the thickest American accent I had ever heard.

"The Sofitel Hotel please,"

The taxi driver swiveled around. He was a portly man- he had a red beard and a bare head. He grinned.

"Wow! I've never met an Australia before! Your accent is amazing!"

"Um.... thanks?...Yours too?"

He guffawed like a had said the best joke in the world. He tilted his heard back, and laughed some more.

"Oh why thank you Miss,"

We sat in silence for a while. I started fiddling with the hem of the long, white coat I was wearing. I wanted to look professional, so I bought a whole new wardrobe with the money Father had deposited into the bank account. Pantsuits (thanks Leslie Knope!), blouses, and much to my chagrin- dresses. But I was going to need them for parties or functions for the band, so I really didn't have a choice.

I drummed my fingers against the armrest. I was finally going to see Harry after five years. Five long years. Of course, I had seen him on television, performing on the X-Factor. And then after that, he was whisked away in a whirlwind of fame and publicity.

It would be weird. He was sixteen when I saw him in person last. He had probably changed so much- well, if the photos online were anything to go by. I wonder if his personality was different too? Fame could get into people's heads sometimes...

"Hey isn't that boyband staying in that hotel?" The taxi driver once again breaking my thoughts.

"Really?" I feigned ignorance. "What boyband?"

"You know the one..." The man scratched his beard. "The one about directions or something or other...Oh look we're here!"

The taxi pulled up to a beautiful building. It was tall and grand- the walls painted in a soft cream, and a security guard was manning the entrance. The front doors were wide open, and i could see the lavish wood that lined th floors, the velvet covered wars, and golden chandeliers which hung elegantly, watching everyone who came and went.

"It's amazing," I breathed.

I paid the taxi driver- who accepted the money graciously- and tumbled out of the car. I picked up my black suitcase, and was wondering how to juggle my other bags, when a strong pair of hands hefted up one of my duffel bags.

"Looks like you need a hand, love."

My head snapped towards the owner of the arms. He had a medium build, and spiky brown hair. He had the most cheekiest grin on his face, and his whole face seem to lit up when he smiled; all the way from his eyes to his bottom lip. He was wearing a white blue striped t-shirt and skinny, red jeans.

Louis Tomlinson.

"Thanks," I said breathlessly, still slightly in awe.

If his smile could possibly get bigger it certainly did.