Capturing Beauty

Five

June came faster than I expected it to. One minute I was packing, getting ready to uproot my life and the next Tommy came out to LA and I was getting on a plane headed to Great Britain.

Once Harry tweeted me all hell broke loose; teenage girls were bitching me out, my followers grew incredibly on every social media, and paparazzi had decided to stalk me. Not a lot of paparazzi stalking but at least one or two were constantly around.

But by the time everything setted down, another rumor came to light and thankfully for me it was someone else with Harry this time. Some model was seen with him getting coffee and the pictures spread like wildfire. Seeing them all cute and holding hands sent a pain to my chest because I knew I never had any chance with him, for goodness sake he was dating a model, how could I ever measure up to her.

After that initial tweet I never retaliated - or followed - he constantly tried to slide into my DMs but I stood my ground. He would occasionally like some of the tweets I made or retweeted but never actually tweeted me again, which I was grateful for.

Now I was focused on getting off this goddamn plane and then find the dude who was supposed to take me to the arena where everyone was supposed to meet up at.

The wheels touched down with a thud, transporting me into the wonderful world of the British. Immediately following my exit from the metal jet, my ears were flooded with the sweet sound of people speaking in accents strange to me. There was quite a lot of the typical British sounding accents but there were also accents from all over the world.

Cardiff was poppin!

I had never been to Wales; I had never been out of the country ever before landing this job. A huge smile spread across my face as I walked through the airport like I had a clue where I was going. By some miracle, I ended up in the baggage claim and then after I picked my deep green suitcase out from the rest I was off to find my driver.

People dressed in black from head to toe stood by the front doors leading into Cardiff, holding signs with the names of travelers written on them. 'Mathews' was written across a white piece of papers held by an older man who sported pure white hair, hidden by a drivers cap, and a complete black suit with a white dress shirt and also a plain black tie.

Approaching him slowly, I toted my heavy suitcase along carrying a large backpack stuffed to the point that zippers had a hard time closing, and my black purse clenched between the upper and lower parts of my arm.

"Hello Miss, are you Rachel Mathews?" The tall man asked, nodding my head in response the poor guy began lugging my suitcase towards the car we'd be taking.

Shoes were a main priority, and all the clothes in my closet but that wasn't a possibility so I just shoved in as much as I could without making the whole thing too heavy to pull. It's so hard being a girl and having to look cute all the freaking time, like what if I'm in the grocery store and I meet the love of my life but i'm in sweatpants and an oversized tshirt with no makeup on and greasy hair sporting a messy bun? That makes a really lousy first impression.

Luckily for me, I went through that agonizing long flight and still managed to look cute. I was probably going to meet the boys during my first visit to the stadium, so thinking ahead I wore a simple black cami, ripped boyfriend jeans, tan lace up heeled boots, and a double pearl necklace. During the drive over to the arena I braided my hair to the side, leaving little strands out as I went then fixed the little makeup I was wearing.

- - - -

Arriving in front of the stadium, I noticed others leaving cabs and similar looking small black cars toting along their belongings as they walked towards the back entry. I followed suit and soon enough I was entering through two wide black doors.