trigger warning: there is mild talk of depression and suicide in this chapter
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The day dragged on and I was growing more and more eager slash nervous to see Van. We agreed to meet at the coffee shop around seven. It was now 6:30 in the evening and I stood in front of my mirror, examining myself. My outfit of the night was simple; a white velvet material body suit, with black jeans that had rips in both knees. For my shoes, I went with my trusty pair of oxford doc martens. To top it all off I wore my black leather jacket with a few pins with band names or lyrics on them. I wore my short hair in it's natural state, and my usual simple makeup. I decided on a burgundy lipstick to finish the look. I nodded at myself, taking a deep breath.
I don't know why I was so nervous to see Van again, I was just fine around him yesterday. Maybe I didn't want to screw things up with him and scare him away. That happened far too often in the past with the boys in my life. Maybe it was because he was talented and attractive. Also a department that I was unfamiliar with. I'd never talked to a "famous" person before. Unless you count fourteen year old me, standing outside of One Direction's tour bus, screaming how much I loved Harry and that I wanted to marry him someday. But that was different. Harry Styles never took a personal interest in me like Van had. No ordinary boy had stuck around to either. As a matter of fact, they all had used me to get closer to Aspyn. But she was a good friend and never gave them the time of day.
After staring at myself for a moment longer, I decide to head out so I'm not late meeting Van. The time on my phone read 6:42 p.m. and the coffee shop was only a five minute walk from my loft. I strutted down the sidewalk towards the destination and found myself humming one of Catfish and The Bottlemen's songs I had found online earlier. Van was an amazing musician with a great voice and an even better ability to write raw lyrics. I was highly impressed and made a mental note to tell him that later.
A few short minutes later I found myself in front of the coffee shop, looking inside of the large window to see Van sitting in a booth in the back corner by himself. I open the door and walk towards him, and he immediately looked up when he heard the bell above the door ding, indicating someone had entered the shop. He waved at me, flashing me a smile the showed his teeth. I waved back as I approached the table, sitting down across from him.
"Heya lass," he said as I sat. "You look lovely this evening!" He took a sip of what I assumed was tea and sat his cup back down.
"Not looking too shabby yourself," I laugh. "Have a good day?"
"It was class, the lads and myself spent the morning and the afternoon in the studio, writing mostly. Was your day all right love?" I melt a little hearing him talk. His accent was different than most I've heard, and I thought about how I could listen to him talk for hours on end and not get tired of his voice.
"Mine was decent I suppose. I spend my Sunday's inside, cleaning the house like an old lady." He laughed, a real laugh as if I'd just told him a funny joke.
"Well for an old lady you're pretty fit." He stands from the table and I stand as well.
We leave the coffee shop and I follow Van's lead, walking behind him and eventually right by his side. He pulls out a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lights it up, blowing smoke into the air.
"Mind if I show you something?" He says after we walk in silence for a moment. I look up at him, raising an eyebrow.
"Ah, so you're the tour guide tonight huh?"
He laughs and shakes his head, followed by a small shrug. "Not necessarily, but I think you'll like where we're going."
"What makes you so sure?" I challenge.
