One Direction Preferences

#44 you're a street performer

Harry: You sighed as you sat down your guitar case for another day at work, lying it open for the people that passed. Most of them didn't stop, busy rushing to the place where they most needed to be, letting the world and your music pass them by. You sang lightly to a song you'd just written the previous night, your fingers strumming along your guitar effortlessly. By the end of the night you'd made only fifty dollars, enough to cover not even a fourth of the rent that was due tomorrow. Just as you were about to leave two things fell into your case, a slip of white paper and a hundred dollar bill. You looked up to find a curly haired boy, his back facing you as he darted back across the street quickly, never giving you the chance to stop him. The only thing left of him is the slip of paper, the handwriting barely legible. One step closer to taking a beautiful girl off the corner of the street and into the arms of a loving man. I'll be seeing you here tomorrow. -Harry

Louis: It was hard to make money when you were one of five performing, stuck being shoved to the back of your dance group, by-passers only giving their attention to those at the front. Today was particularly slow, only leaving you with twenty dollars even as you'd danced your hardest all day. Only during your last dance did a guy approach you, a grin plastered on his face as he watched you finish your routine. "You're amazing." He said, holding no amount of money in his hand. Your face fell, disappointed at the lack of profit you'd made for the day and he caught on, turning his smiling face into a laugh. "Don't worry love. I plan to take you out to dinner then we'll further discuss whether you'd like me to tip you or whether you'd want a second date." He said, sealing the deal with a charming kiss to your hand.

Niall: "Just pick a card." You tell Niall as he stand right across from you. There's a smile on your face at this boy who you want even though you can't shake the thought that someone like him would never go for you. He picks up his card, memorizing it and putting it back in the middle of your stack. As you shuffle them he watches you, sure you won't be able to pull off the trick. As you close your eyes, plucking one of the cards from the pile Niall states in amusement. His brow furrows as you hold it out and you laugh, knowing you've chosen the wrong card. You put it back in the stack and he rolls his eyes, thinking you're about to pick another. You reach behind his ear, pulling out a slip of paper and smiling at him as you slip it into his hand, your phone number scribbled down. "How did you?" He asks, finally grinning at you. You send him a wink. "A magician never tells her secret but maybe if I get that call I'll let you in on my tricks."

Liam: Being completely composed in any situation was your job. You stood in the middle of a sidewalk, perched on a podium as everyone passed you. You spotted him before he even came, a child-like smile on his face. He poked your cheek enthusiastically and you struggled to hold back your laugh. Four other boys were with him and they took turns taking picture with you and doing silly things to try to get you to move. When they'd finally had enough, realizing you were a professional the boy whispered into your ear. "I'm Liam. When you're off duty and can move again I'd like to take you out." He giggled, leaving his phone number at your feet as he and the rest of the boys ran off into the crowded streets of London.

Zayn: You'd been watching him from the street all day. He sat inside a small coffee shop across from a girl. They seemed staged but stayed there all day while people photographed them from outside, both of them grinning and making small talk with each other. When night had come you took the portrait you'd been working on and stood outside the door. When he exited he was holding the girl's hand, flashing cameras all around them and you. You reached out, the drawing available to his free hand. When he flipped it over he smiled, staring at the accurate depiction you'd made of him, him sitting at a small table with a girl, his face smiling and her's blank where you didn't draw it in. For moments he looked over it, amazed by your talent and the truth behind the picture. Finally he leaned down, his lips right by your ear. "I wish it were you." He whispered, shots of the girl with the drawing appearing all over headlines the next morning, just the beginning shots of you and Zayn, soon to be together, your face become the one in the picture.