Masked Insanity (Harry Styles)

Chapter 2: The start of something new

I got on my knees in front of my closet. After about two days of lazily lounging around my house, I decided to start packing. I reached behind my arrays of hanging outfits and pulled out my ancient, puke green suitcase. This old thing hadn’t seen the light of day since my move to Wolverhampton.

I gave it a gentle pat, and a monumental cloud of dust rose from its aged surface, smothering me. I went into a coughing fit, wildly waving about my hands, trying to clear the air. When I could breathe again, I let out a disgruntled sigh. This packing thing would take a lot longer than I expected. I could use some help, so I pulled my cell phone out of my sweatpants’ pocket and dialed the number of my one and only friend.

After a couple of rings, she picked up with an enthusiastic, “Hello there stranger! It’s about time I heard from you!” A smile tugged at the corner of lips. Her cheerfulness was contagious.

“Hey, Mia! I missed you so much, you don’t even know,” I squealed with equal vigor, “But I need your help with something.”

“Uh huh, go on,” she prompted. I proceeded to tell her everything, from the moment I’d woken up two days leading up to this moment.

At the end of my story, I was met with silence. “Hello?” I called out, unsure if she was still there.

“Sorry,” she giggled, “it’s just a lot to wrap my head around… So let me get this straight; you’re going to be traveling to London on a top-secret mission to arrest an assassin, all the while maintaining a secret identity? Wait till I tell Jenny!” She was referring to her sister.

I let out a groan.“Mia, this is a serious case and of the utmost importance! I’m getting my first major assignment, I was sworn to complete secrecy! You should consider yourself lucky I’m telling you all of this right now.”

“Whatever you say, my little double 07” she cooed. A scowl settled on my face imagining the smirk on her face at the other end of the phone.

“Just come over,” I snapped, “I need you to help me pack.”

“Oh, if it has anything to do with clothing or fashion, then you’re definitely gonna need my help,” she pondered.

“What’s wrong with how I dress?” I complained and glanced at myself in the full-length mirror in my room. I was dressed in an old, baggy, and faded white t-shirt I’ve had for who knows how long, paired with holed grey sweatpants. My long, dark brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun. And by messy bun, I don’t mean a messy bun that takes ten minutes to put up and actually looks good. I mean a MESSY messy bun.

“I guess you have a point,” I grumbled to Mia.

“Mmhmm,” she chastised, “I’ll be there in ten.”

~

“So these are the suspects?” she questioned. She was studying the high school yearbook pictures the Chief had sent to me. I had spent the majority of the last two days staring at them myself, wondering what their personalities would be like in real life. I could only make inferences based on appearances.

“Yeah,” I answered. She brought her bottom lip between her teeth as she poured over them.

First, she held up the picture of Eliza Binnz. “She looks like a bitch.” I let out a laugh at her quick analysis, but I couldn’t help but agree with her. Her long, perfectly straight blonde hair, blue eyes, and forced colgate smile gave her the appearance of Regina George from Mean Girls.

She tossed aside her picture and moved on to the picture of John Carter. She glanced up at me and wiggled her eyebrows. “I’m sure you won’t mind getting to know him.” I knew exactly what she was talking about. He was the poster child of perfection: close-trimmed, light blonde hair, blue eyes, chiseled jaw, and from what I could see, and expensive dresser.

“I’m not typically attracted to guys like him. He’s too perfect, you know what I mean?” I inquired. I wondered if I was the only one who felt this way. Mia scoffed and rolled her eyes at me, “There’s no such thing as being too perfect.” She tossed aside her picture of John Carter.

At the last picture, she let out a gasp and held the thin piece of paper up to her face. “He’s REALLY hot!” she exclaimed. Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. She had that familiar glint in her blue eyes, and I knew there was no stopping her.

“No, I’m being serious!” she protested and shoved the picture in my face.

“I know Mia, I’ve seen it at least a million times already!” I moaned in complaint, but I gazed over the picture once more. I had to admit, Harry Styles was extremely attractive. Dark, curly locks perfectly framed his handsome face. His emerald green orbs gleamed under the flash of the camera, and his lips were pulled into a sexy half-smirk. An eyebrow and lip ring adorned his face, making him look mysterious and dangerous, yet at the same time, his deep-set dimples gave him an adorable persona.

“And you don’t think he’s hot?” she asked, her mouth gaping in bewilderment.

“I didn’t say that; he is really sexy but…” my eyes widened when I realized what I’d just said. Mia’s face contorted into a knowing smile. “I didn’t mean that! Like, he is attractive, but… no wait, I can’t think of him that way, this is strictly business, as in I can’t get involved and… gahhh! Amelia, you are impossible!” I wailed in frustration.

“What’s wrong with a little admiration?” she asked with a diabolical-looking smirk on her face as she peered at his picture, “I know something fine when I see it…”

“Okaaay, we’re done with that now!” I announced and snatched the picture from her hand. She looked at me with mock horror written all over her face. “I wasn’t done with that,” she whined.

“I don’t care. We have to start packing,” I chided. With an over-exaggerated groan, she dragged her feet to my closet. I made my way over as well and began to pull out some articles of clothing, only to have my hand slapped away.

“Owww, I’m just trying to help,” I pouted. Mia had her hands on her hips and a disapproving look on her face. “You’d be doing more harm than good picking out your own clothes. Just pack what I give you,” she ordered.

“Fine then. Less work for me,” I mumbled and plopped on my bed.

I earned several tsks of dissatisfaction as she sifted through all of my simple t-shirts and button-up shirts. “Seriously Scar, you dress like a man! You’re giving me nothing to work with!” she fretted. I simply sighed. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d denounced my wardrobe. With a job like mine, comfort always won out over style.

She began tossing all of my “unacceptable” clothes in a pile on the floor. I didn’t put up much of a fight as the mound increased in size. If this would help me play the part of a college girl better, then so be it.

After an endless amount of time spent criticizing my wardrobe, Mia pulled out a handful of clothes from the back of my wardrobe. I cringed at the frilly summer dresses and floral tops. “Where have these been all your life?” she asked in complete shock, “I didn’t even know you owned clothes like these, otherwise, I would have borrowed them!”

“They were in the back of my closet for a reason. My foster m… legal guardian had bought them for me when I was 17 in an attempt to make me more feminine” I coughed a little at the uncomfortable topic. Mia just pretended like she hadn’t noticed my moment of discomfort. She understood that I didn’t like to talk about my past. Instead, her face broke into a smile so wide, she looked like the Grinch.

“I’m guessing these are the clothes I will be packing for my trip?” I spoke barely above a whisper.

She nodded her head slowly, her grin never leaving her face. “You bet.”

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Don't forget to vote and comment!  - xoxoharrrystylesxoxo