Broken Things

Chapter 3

HPOV:

Before I knew it, we were being whisked away through the city with Stevie sitting next to me in the back of a cab. I watched out of the window as the bright lights and billboards passed by. I breathed a laugh when we passed the billboard of us announcing our performance in May. I had hoped Stevie didn't see it as I looked over to her but she was facing the other way. Her eyes were focused on the sights outside her window.

"I can never get over Time Square," she said partially to herself.

"It's definitely one of my favorites. It's wonderful," I said, watching her. She looked at me and smiled. She looked down at her hands that were folded in her lap. I had to refrain myself from reaching over and taking one of them into mine, despite how badly I wanted to. There was an aura about her that radiated in beams around her and it was contagious. Everything she said was genuine. I felt safe.  

I had lost track of where we were when the cab came to a stop. I pulled out my wallet from my jacket pocket.

"It's fine, I got it," she said, reaching into her purse.

"I insist. It's the least I can do," I said as I handed the money to the driver before she could protest. We both got out and started to walk towards the large building.

"Excuse me," a man's voice said. We turned and the cab driver was leaning his head out of the window.

"I really hate to bother you two but I was wondering, um, my daughter is a huge fan and I, well..."

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks and looked over at Stevie. Her smile was kind and she nodded. I was instantly relaxed.

"Of course, sir. What do you need?" I walk back towards the cab.

"Well I, um, could you just sign this for my girl?" he said handing me a piece of random paper, "I really hate to bother you." I took the paper and held up my hand.

"It's absolutely fine. I don't mind at all," I reassured him. "What's your daughter's name?" 

He told me her name was Colleen and I asked him to spell it to make sure I got it right. I smiled again as I handed the paper back to him.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Styles. You have no idea what this will mean to her. You guys are her world." My heart swelled as I was reminded why I love what I do.

"You're more than welcome, sir. Let Colleen know that she means just as much to us as we do to her." I noticed a tear roll down the man's face and he thanked me again. I waved as he drove off. 

I turned around and walked back to Stevie. Her hand was over mouth, trying to hide the large smile.

"I'm sorry about that," I said running my hand through my hair.

"That was an amazing thing you did. You made that girl's life," she said to me.

"It's things like that that make me love what I do," I said quietly.

"I can tell."

She removed her keys from her purse and unlocked the door to the building. The building was an old, refurbished warehouse and still used a freight lift to get to each flat. I helped her raise the door to the lift and we went up to the fifth floor. The door to her place was a huge gate that had to pushed to the side to reveal a large room.

"Wow", I breathed.

Her studio apartment was fantastic. Large windows lined the back wall and the old brick was coming through the plaster. Large, framed posters of classic rock bands were hung in various places and above the fire place held a grand black and white print of the London skyline. In the middle of the wood floor were three black leather couches on top of a wide Persian rug with deep colors.

I watched as Stevie walked over to the open kitchen and began rummaging through a few drawers and cabinets. She sat a bottle of wine on the marble counter tops and began to screw the wine opener into the cork.

"Your place is bloody amazing," I said when I approached her. She brought out two wine glasses and poured the blood red liquid in both. 

"Thank you," she said sheepishly, handing me a glass.

"It suits me, I think."

"I think so, too," I said and we clinked our glasses together. I took a sip and let the wine sit in my mouth before swallowing. 

"Do you want to listen to some music?" she asked.

"I would love to."

"You go pick something out. The system is over there. I'll get a fire started." And with that, she stepped out of her shoes and padded over to the hearth. I went over to the corner she pointed to. A gasp escaped me when I walked over. She had a massive vinyl collection that filled an entire bookcase. I scanned the shelves to see that she had everything that ranged from The Beatles and Aerosmith to The Kooks, Damien Rice, and Kings of Leon.

"You collection is, I mean, holy shit," I yelled over my shoulder. She laughed and thanked me.

"I get that a lot," she called back.

I pulled out an album from The Clash and placed it in the record player. The music came through the sound system as I turned the knob to the volume.