More Than This

Chapter 9: Beginning of a Long Journey

Chapter 9: Beginning of A Long Journey

Previously in More Than This:

"So yes?" His voice finally broke the muted aura.

"A—yes," think before you speak, dammit! I mentally face-palmed myself as my jaws clinched at my thoughtless words. But it was too late to correct anything now...

"Great, let's go, Kate!" He looked a little more enthusiastic than he was at first when I woke up he— regained...regained consciousness—here..

**************

On our way down the back stairs, Harry announced that the car he rented for the two nights was black, so I decided to get a head start. Once out in the parking lot, I headed towards a rich-looking, black-colored Ferrari towards the back of the hotel, that gave the impression of costing more than all its peers put together, and waited for Harry and his guards to catch up. The guards weren't dressed like the normal guards you'd see on TV. No black suits, dark shades, big, solid bodies or any creepy thing of that matter. Just a normal T-shirt and baggy jeans, average-sized torsos; they seemed easy going, though their solemn look never ceased.

My eyes widened as one of the most famous people of all strode past me and flashed an affable smile to no one in particular, stopping at a simple, black Nissan Versa a few cars down the same row.

I wished I could obliterate the incident from his memory and his guards, who clearly were not astonished by my ignorant behavior. I imperceptibly followed with guilt and climbed into the right back seat of the modest vehicle after I heard the click of the doors unlocking, following Harry's touches to the buttons in the driver's door. After a few seconds of hesitation, I decided to slide into the right seat, behind the driver's.

"You're staying in the back?" Harry's face expression was back to serious as he bent down and stuck his head through the right front door, but his question sounded more like a statement (I assumed because of the heavy British accent he held). After receiving no answer, he exchanged a few words with the two middle-aged men before he ducked his head and sat his tall figure in the driver's seat.

My eyes followed the guards who headed back to their safety zone and disappeared behind the doors labeled "Emergency Exit", wondering why he'd ask such a question.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Why should you?" His head popped into the rear-view mirror and I could tell from his slightly squinted eyes that he was smiling. Touche.

***

The car key turned the ignition as if it was inside me, turning my stomach along with it. It took us less than five minutes to get ourselves ready for a trip we hadn't planned until then, and less than ten minutes to get it started. Between me and the famous boy-bander, a strip of orange light showed 1:38 AM as the time. Harry randomly mentioned he wouldn't have called one of his guards unless it was necessary for our protection; we ended up having two.

Don't get the wrong idea; yes, there were fans—a lot of them—but every single one of them was sleeping when we were rushing down. They hurdled around each other like a pack of innocent wolves around every tent outside the hotel. Layers of blankets and covers were laid on top of most of them, with little "I <3 1D" and "Marry me?" signs clutched in little girls' hands. And older girls. There were numerous signs all over the place—big and small, creative and simple, clean and dirty...very dirty. As we walked past in the parking lot and saw some of the signs and how desperate some of these fans looked, even in their sleep, I'd thought if one of them were to wake up right then, all four of us were dead—even the guards. We'd be killed by love—at least Harry would be—but still..dead. I'd shivered through the late night breeze at the thought of this chaos that was only a few sound-waves away from happening.

Nothing about the Nissan was fascinating. It looked old—not very old—but definitely celebrity old.

I had a lot to worry about at this point: having no phone, no contact with family, friends, or relatives, and going on a 3 or 4-hour long trip with a celebrity my parents probably wouldn't be pleased to know about. And all this would be on the news in no time. But I decided to push it all to the side for a while. Right now, I was in a car with someone who I'll be with for some time, and I'm not feeling sleepy or drowsy, so might as well get to know him. Plus, who wouldn't want to spend time with The Harry Styles?

"What year was this car made in?" My curiosity took the best of me as Harry shifted the gear to R and drove backwards, his right arm practically hugging the passenger's seat and his eyes switching from the right side-view mirror to the left.

"2007, I think. Why? Does it look old?" His big hands clutched the gear shift again, this time changing to D and driving forward into the dim, quiet parking lot.

By now, I'd figured he's anything but normal. He's either bipolar or a troubled teen who can't express feelings, because his face expression would go from friendly to serious to playful in a time interval of no more than 2 minutes. It just went from serious to friendly in the last five seconds I'd thought this.

"Yes," I let out an unexpected snicker before I added on another judgemental question.

"Did you do that so the media and publicity would think of you in a nice and humble way? Because they always do". I'd noticed before I added my explanation the expression-shift again. But this time it didn't change back, even after a long moment of unwelcomed silence.

Harry stared at the road ahead as he drove off of the parking way and I decided to change the subject in attempt to save us from my big mouth.

"Do you know where we're going? Don't you need a GPS to give you directions or a map?" Another long silence. I'm gonna shut up, now, if I'm expected to talk to myself all ride long.

"I'm not doing anything for the media". He finally said quitely, and another silence followed. It wasn't awkward this time, rather full of shame and wonder--at least in my place. All of a sudden, I started wondering why I'd said something like that.

"Sorry," was all I could think of.

He parallel-parked perfectly at an unfamiliar-looking store with the sign "Open" in red hanging at the door. The display window showed computers, phones, and other electronics. He turned the keys into the ignition and the 6-year-old battery obeyed.

"You don't know me," he said serenely as he opened the squeaky car door and stepped out, shoving it shut with tremendous force making me jump. I was left alone in the oldest car in the parking space, with an only elegant white Ferrari a few yards away.

*******

(A/N): I'm so sorry, I know I've taken so long to update. I've had writer's block, but here's the good news: I had an idea yesterday on how to deal with this writer's block, so I'll start doing something new from the next chapter on. It's not hard to notice it at all, so let's see who does! And I think it'll make writing easier for me. I'll update as soon as I get a chance..hopefully less than a week because I have a lot to do for school. Please leave votes and comments; I promise the more, the faster I'll update! Love you all, thank you for your support and patience! .xx

P.S.: Sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes, I didn't proofread.

P.S.S.: As I went through the cars Harry Styles has previously owned/rented, I saw the most disgusting and hateful comments about him because he drives such expensive cars, so I decided to make him rent a simple, affordable car in this story. Apparently some people pay attention to nothing but the amount of money celebrities spend...and base all their nasty judgements on solely just that.