The Directioner Games

[2] Crapity Crap

A/N: I've been getting positive feedback for this one and therefore I have decided to present....ANOTHER CHAPTER! Enjoy :)

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Crap. What had I gotten myself into? I kept my head down and pretended to be very interested in the little yellow duckies on my flip flops, trying my best to ignore the murmur of voices coming from the next room. I guess at this point, it was safe to say that I was in utter, deep, stinky shit.

I wrinkled my nose at the thought of me drowning in putrid smelling shit and tried my best to get that thought out of my system. "Go away you disgusting-ness. Go. Away." This fever was really bad for my brain. I was spewing utter bull shit. I mean, you talks to their own thoughts? Me with a fever, that's who.

However, what was creepier was the fact that I was in an old dead man's house. Old Man Wilson had been a poor yet interesting man. Poor because he lived all alone in this big house next to us. Also because his wife had died like ages ago. Interesting because every night he'd light up candles in every corner of his house and pray to God or something. Also, because he had a dog called Alonzo. Okay, so that bit isn't very interesting. But I liked Alonzo. Until he almost scratched my face when I tried to pet it. "Stupid dog. I was only trying to give it a neck rub." I said aloud.

"Do you talk to yourself often? And if yes, are you always this random?" I heard a new, amused voice ask. I turned to look at this new found creature, who no doubt was some sort of Old Man Wilson slave. I mean, I know that the big burly security guards of the One Direction had called me over. Along with my mum. Who had shot me the most confuzzled look you can ever give a person before entering the room where they were. That was the first hint that I was in utter, deep, stinky shit.

My mum hates swearing. And I bet you my Fairly Odd Parents underpants that she would be so shocked when she hears that her daughter knew such colourful vocabulary.

Anyway, I turned to examine this specimen and found myself face to face with one of them. Harry Styles to be specific. "Good golly God." I blurted out and clamped a hand over my mouth. There goes all my fan girl training on how to make interesting conversation should you ever be able to bump into the lads down the drain.

It was the Harry Styles alright. And I didn't need to conduct a DNA test to prove it. He chuckled lightly, which caused my mouth to dry up. What do I say next? I mean, this is Harry-worth-a-billion-bucks-Styles himself!

"I wouldn't say I'm worth a billion. Just around eight hundred thousand, maybe? Or almost a million..." he said like he read my mind. Oh my gosh! Harry Styles could read fan girl minds! I decided to try his skills again and squeezed my eyes shut, thinking the same thing all over again. It was quite random actually, what I was thinking. I was actually singing the Gummi Bear song. It was so darn catchy!

"What are you trying to do?" I heard Harry ask. I opened my eyes and saw him looking down at me with an amused smirk playing at his lips. "I was trying to see if you could actually read my mind. You know, like the way you did before!" I replied indignantly.

Harry laughed this deep Harry laugh that I always imagined coming from his mouth, throat, vocal cords whatever. "You..yo-..You actually thought I read your mind?!" he said between those Harry laughs. I think I'll call them Haraughs now.

"Well, how else would you know about me thinking you're worth a billion bucks!" I replied, certain that he had read my mind. He stared at me for some time before going into Harry's-blank-expression-mode. "You said it out loud." Oh. Never mind.

"Anyway, you're Arielle, aren't you?" he asked in that totes adorable accent of his. I love the United Kingdom! Therefore, I would like to express my gratitude and thank thee for the provision of drool-worthy accents that thy country, or should I say, thy country's inhabitants have produced.

"Um...that depends." I said after a while. I wasn't sure what his motives were so I decided to keep my identity a secret. Harry looked completely baffled at my response.

"What the crumpets are you talking about?" Okay he didn't say crumpets. He said "Bloody hell" but crumpets would've been much more appropriate. My headache seemed to be returning and I groaned. Might as well get this over with.

"Yes, I am Arielle. Arielle Thompson and yes I did call your die hard fans a 'bunch of cunts' and yes, I did tell them to shut the eff word up."

Harry grinned now. "Looks like we have found you. Congratulations, you are now part of the 'Directioner Games.'"

Wait....what??!!

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