Blue Jeans || h.s.

Chapter Two.

"I always go and spoil the surprise, take my hands off of your eyes too soon"- Arctic Monkeys, 505

A day before-

After that nice afternoon I had spent with Zayn, he had excused himself saying he was suppose to meet with some mates on a local bar and although he said he "would rather stay with me" he had apperantly rain checked far too many times. I was flattered but told him that we would surely speak again soon and we even exchanged numbers (high five to myself!). He also said I was free to tag along with him, but I didn't want to be a nuisance. Plus, meeting one person was already good enough for a day.

Oh my, I really was anti-social.

It was now Wednesday, cold as always and as expected on a late November night. It was the day before my birthday actually. I wasn't realy ecstatic since I had no one to celebrate it with. Plus, I didn't find it necessary to celebrate my birthday, it wasn't important. Many people had made that clear enough before.

I pushed aside the memory of my past birthdays. It had been a good day with no necessity and ruining it with past memories of people who didn't matter today.

I turned my gaze to the window and out to the streets of London. They were visible from up here, thankfully, the window that was beside the tiny living room containing a loveseat and coffee table, provided me to see down the commotion of passerbys walking and all that. At night, it provided me with a beautiful view of the starry sky.

It was chilly tonight, but I was bored out of my mind and I was sure that if I didn't go out soon, I'd lose my mind. I hadn't stepped a foot outside since late 5pm yesterday after I had left the coffee shop.

And, besides, maybe I'd be lucky enough and see if there were any job openings. I was due to pay my rent soon and the building manager wasn't one to mess with. Specially when it came to paying your rent.

Once I had dressed properly for the weather: (beanie, warm jacket, boots and mittens for my hands) I was out the door. I remembered to lock the door and put the key inside the stupid purse I was sorta forced to always carry around. I hated purses but my pockets weren't all that big enough to fit a phone, keys, gum, wallet, etc. It was inevitable to escape the use of purses. For woman, of course. Unless you're a man that like purses. Than that's okay, too, I guess. Okay, now I'm just rambling.

Stepping out into the streets, I made my way to the bus stop. I didn't have any other sort of transportation besides this. Though, I didn't exactly mind. I didn't like driving at all. In fact, I was petrified to ever drive.

Now, don't think it's because I have a oh-so-traumatic past where my parents along with siblings and whatever  all died in some tragic accident. No. I just simply find it overly stressing to drive and being cautious to everything around you. I'd rather just sit in the passenger sear, enjoy the humming of the engine, music in the radio, view outside and have someone drive me. Talk about lazy.

I personally believe that a car is literally a weapon. You can run over anyone by accident or if you're a total psycho, voluntarily!

So, basically, I hated, with a deep undying passion, to drive.

Thank God for public transportation. Though He should bless some people with personal hygene because damn some people smelled like rotten bananas.

After coming into more civilization, which wasn't really far from my small apartment, I payed the fat driver and hopped off. I started walking, my eyes scanning the stores, both admiring some items and also looking for any sign welcoming new employers or whatever.

After an eternity of not seeing anything, (an hour really, but in this sort of weather, it might as well have been an eternity!) I disappointedly walked into an old antique music store which selled vintage records. I had always loved vintage, old records, though, I always simply downloaded the music to my phone and just bought the albums for decorations or to just keep them, say I have them.

As I scanned the rows of vynal records, occasionally seeing some I recognized, I sighed, looking around me. The shop was pretty empty, only myself, two young looking girls looking at one of the few guitars in the corner and a tall man with a black trench coat staring at the shelf with The Vaccines album. I sighed once again. I knew I couldn't risk spending any money unless necessary, which meant coffee, maybe cereal and milk and atleast half of what I owed the rent. (Although coffee wasn't exactly necessary, it was indeed a necessity to me. That was one of my only exceptions on spending. Yes, I'm aware that I am an addict. Preferribly from Arabella's Coffee Cup.) So, I made myself a favor and decided to head home. Not buying anything was making me upset so I might as well put myself out of this missery.

"Excuse me." I turned around to find a long haired, 20 something man behind me. He had the whole hippie thing going on, minus the bandana and 'Peace to the world, man' vibe kind of shit. He just had the style. And haircut.

"Yes?" I asked as politely as I could. I was stressed out, knowing I needed a job but couldn't find one any soon. I'm pretty fucked.

"Need any help?" He asked kindly. He was short, and if I said a man was short than he was really short then since, I wasn't all that big either. He must have been 5'6, or something. Which I find is a very short height for a man.

"Um- no, I was just leaving." I answered, smiling and turning back around to leave.

"Really? I saw you checking out those records by the Arctic Monkeys. Those are sick!" Can't he see I want to leave?! I'm not up to chat about my interest in music.

"Yeah, they're good,-" I looked down at his name imprinted into a little badge thing that was pinned to his casual t-shirt,"-Mark, but I can't afford it at the moment. Sorta not working so..." I said truthfully, and backing a bit away to the exit. Hopefully, he'll understand and give me some sympathy and simply leave me be. I wanted to go home to angrily and frustratingly throw a pillow at a wall or something. I wasn't up for a chit chat.

"Sorry to hear that. You know what? My boss was actually speaking of needing someone to work here. Yeah, something about not having enough charming american girls to work behind the register." I was taken aback by his offer. Ignoring his attempt at what I think was flirting, his smile soon was mirrored by my own. Though mine was of relief and his was more... creepy.

"Really!? Oh my God, I'd be so grateful if you'd help me!" I said eagerly, earning a laugh from him at my giddy expression. Though it sounded more like a forced laugh. Suddenly, he didn't look like just a kind employee offering me a job.

"Yeah, my old man would be happy to have you here. It's not everyday a jobless american girl comes by here with an incredible music taste." Is he going to keep reffering to me as american? Seriously, it's annoying. As well as his attempt at complimenting me everytime he speaks...

"That'd be awesome! Is he around? May I speak to him?"I said, trying to get straight down to business.

"Not necesarry, just come by tomorrow at 10am with your resumé."

This seems far too easy.

"Thank you! I surely will." I tried to hide my suspesion.

"See you later, Winters."

And maybe, just maybe, if I had stayed a bit longer inside the store instead of basically skipping out with excitement, perhaps I would have been able to hear my last name roll off his mouth with bubblegum scented breath, and maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have turned in my resumé the next day and my life wouldn't have changed forever.

But, I wouldn't have met him.