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Journey I ||11

2:45

In the morning.

I left around 2:30 in the afternoon and if I was still in Connecticut it would be 9:45 but it's five hours ahead and it was a seven hour flight. In simple terms, I'm really fucking tired.

"Will someone pick you up?"

I turn around to look at one of the flight attendants fixing his black baseball cap. This was his last flight. He was going to his home here in Bradford.

"No I'm going to be walking"

Walking meant inside to the terminal where I pulled the white strings on my hoodie, which covered the bottom half of my face and smash white frame sunglasses up the bridge of my nose and place my backpack next to me on the red smooth chair.

It's a cheetah print backpack with a shark's mouth on it and one of its teeth is what I hold on to unzip the bag.

I pull my phone out and for the first time I open up Twitter effectively drowning in notifications hat make the screen unstable as I type Cheryl's Twitter handle in. I know her tour is well and over and I need to know what part of England she was in before I show up to one of her homes at an empty residence.

Scrolling through her tweets, she never directly says anything but it is a tweet she retweeted from her girlfriend or whatever, Cara, that says that she's in Newcastle.

How stalkery of me to even do that.

I slide the black straps on my shoulders, the airport is nearly empty, so it's easy for me to evade the paparazzi relaxing in the fake bushes and make my way to the rent a car service.

"I need a vehicle, preferably with two wheels but if you have one with four I'll take it"

I lean over the counter as the confused employee stares at the computer screen for only but five seconds before his lips part.

"I have a motorcycle-" His hands are shaky as they twist in his dark curls that touch his ears.

"I'll take it and I guess I'll rent a helmet too?"

He gives me all of the paper work I have to fill out and a helmet, then I'm on my way, roaming the streets of Bradford trying to remember what Cheryl's exact address is. It's going to take the average driver around two hours to get there but there's literally no one outside so I drive faster than the normal flow of traffic.

This time I keep my mind clear, my face illuminating every time I pass one of the street lamps and my fingers tightening every time the wind touches the hair on the back of my neck.

Somehow the thoughts start and not what's obvious, like why am I doing this but that it feels like I'm in a movie. Traveling from another country to steal the girl of my dreams away from another girl who thinks she's the girl of her dreams.

She's not hers, she's mine.

I'm hungry so when I finally make it to Newcastle I roll into a McDonald's, parking the bike and walking inside to get a chocolate sundae and large fries. Maybe I shouldn't have got that combination of food, but I needed to have time to drive around looking for Cheryl's house and I have a craving oddly for some ice cream.