Celebrity Roadtrip

4: ...But At Least My Hair Looks Good ~November 29~

As soon as I get a good look at who I ran into, my mind goes completely blank. It's like someone took a vacuum cleaner and stuck it in my head, erasing everything in there. I'm grateful for the complete erase though, because I'm pretty sure if my mind hadn't gone blank I would either be hyperventilating or fainting, and frankly, I would probably die of embarrassment if either of those happened.

"Uh...." I get out, not being able to form anything else. Louis looks at me expectantly and I can feel my brain restarting. Play it cool, play it cool, play it cool. I chant like it's some sort of mantra, "Uh sorry mate."

He waves a hand in the air dismissively, well, I can't say I've seen him do that before. "Don't worry about it, I've had far more awkward situations in a toilet."

Being the dirty-minded pervert I am, my mind immediately jumps to conclusions and I feel my face start to heat up, "Alright."

I move to exit the toilet, not really sure what else to do when I feel a hand on my chest, applying enough pressure to signal for me to stop. Very slowly I turn back around, trying my hardest not to do some sort of pterodactyl squeal thing because LOUIS TOMLINSON IS TOUCHING ME.

"You look familiar, have I seen you before?" He questions, totally at ease with the fact that his hand is still resting on my chest and completely oblivious to my racing heartrate.

"Um yeah, I kinda went to your concert yesterday." I stutter out, rubbing the back of my neck nervously.

"Kinda? Mate either you did or you didn't, there is no in between."

My jaw almost drops. Damn, this boy is sassier than I thought, "I did go to your concert, and then I did go and see you at the meet and greet." I bring my hand out at each 'did' for emphasis.

Instantly realization clouds his features, but that is quickly replaced by a calculating squint, "Ah yes, I remember you. You were the one with that girl. Harry right?"

At this point I honestly feel like I'm going to cry. This is something straight out of a fanfiction, only instead of it happening to some 17 year old girl, it's happening to me. I mean, what part of this isn't cliché? I bump into him in the bathroom of all places, and then he's the one who instigates the conversation. This has to be some sort of trick, maybe Steven drugged me or something when I was asleep. Only problem is, the hand that is still on my chest feels real enough, and I'm almost positive that Steven couldn't have done anything last night in his hungover state. So that leaves one option.

"Yeah, that's m'name."

This is real.

Louis takes his hand off me and mirrors my earlier movement by scratching the back of his neck, "Listen, I know this might sound a little odd, and frankly, this entire meeting is odd, but can I use your phone?"

Even if my phone was working, there is no way in hell I would hand it over to him. Just one click and he would have full access to my Tumblr and my Twitter and there is just way too many One Direction related things on there. In fact, I would probably end up 'accidentally' dropping my phone in the sink, then 'accidentally' step on it multiple times before going out onto the street and throwing it in the way of an oncoming car.

It's bad enough Louis knows I'm a directioner, I don't need him finding out that I retweet shirtless pictures of him on top of that.

"Um, sorry but it died just a while ago. I think my friend's phone is still working though so you can use his. May I ask why you want to use it?"

May I? May I? What kind of question is that? This isn't the 19 century dumbass, people don't talk like that anymore! I mentally curse my stupidity, too busy badgering myself to realise that Louis is talking."