Save Me

Chapter 2.

An hour later, I’m still in the car. It doesn’t feel like we are going anywhere, but we’ve driven past my college dorm room 3 times. Suddenly, the van does a U-turn and my hair flies into my face. I am jerked forward, my head centimetres away from the drivers seat. The cool leather of my seat greets my neck and back and I shiver. The truck pulls into an old, abandoned driveway. Weeds overgrow the parking spot and the wheels struggle to find purchase on the slippery tarmac. The van stops just in time, however, a metre away from the graffiti-ed garage door.

“Keira. Out.” A man wearing dark sunglasses turns to face me from the front seat. As I reach for the door handle, I find it already being opened. I stare face to face with a very tall, muscular man. He protectively puts his arm around my shoulder, almost a fatherly gesture. I glance at his stomach, but I quickly realise that he couldn’t be my father, he has a major lack of a pot belly. I flip my blonde hair over my shoulder and shrug his arm off of me. I hate physical contact with strangers-ick. I walk up the winding path next the strange man, and as I glance up at him he runs a hand over his bald, shiny head. He removes his sunglasses from on top of his nose, and clips them on his crisp white collar. We approach the door, and three strides later, we are at the chipped, red door. It opens with a creak and I am shoved inside with a strong hand. The door slams behind me, and I am standing in the foyer.

“Wow.” I let out and impressive sigh, my feet frozen to the hardwood floor. The crumbling exterior made me think that the inside would look just as unused and let go. Instead, it’s the opposite. The house is enormous, with a grand staircase leading upstairs. The décor is very classical, with gold accents and lots of royal reds and blues.

“Go on, go upstairs and pick a room. This will be your safe house for the next six months, so make yourself comfortable.” I didn’t notice the man standing behind me at first; I was too impressed with the house. We were still standing in the foyer, staring up at the staircase ahead. I took a few steps, and landed at the bottom of the stairs.

“Go on,” he said, prodding my back with one hand, “There are some…special guests up there that you should meet.”

“Oh.” I said, reluctant to have to meet anyone new in my current, messy state. “I guess I’ll go up then.” I start plodding up the steps, my feet heavy in my shoes. I was suddenly aware of every little stain on my shirt, every tangle in my hair. I pass a mirror on the way up. It’s been 3 weeks since I’ve seen a mirror, or taken any care in my image whatsoever. I hesitantly turn towards it, preparing for the worst. “I-is that m-me? I look horrible! I can’t meet anyone looking like this! I need a shower, to wash my hair, to change clothes!” I scream hysterically at the man, who looks taken aback at my exclamation.

After I drew myself away from the monster looking back at me, I take deep breaths. I soothe myself, and continue up the stairs, holding onto the gilded handrail for support. I take a right at the top of the stairs, per the instruction of the man following me.

“Your room can be any of these-or should I say, all of these rooms are yours. You can shop tomorrow for furniture. This will be your suite. You can do whatever you’d like with these rooms.” As he speaks, I see the rooms come alive. I picture them exactly how I want them to be. He continues, “for the next six months. Then we will reconsider this living situation, and how it’s worked out. Clear?” he asks, and I nod even though there are about a million questions swirling through my head, mostly beginning with Why?

Behind me, the man sets my bags down. There are four of my suitcases sitting there, presumably full of clothes from my dorm room at uni.

“Where’s my phone?” I ask, staring the formally dressed man down. He hands me a strange phone, not my white iPhone like I’d expected. “This is the phone you’ll be using from now on. You can only call on it, no texting. This is for security, as we don’t want it to be tracked. Again, in six months, your safety and security issues will be reconsidered, and a new cell phone could be possible. Sorry,” he tapers off, a hint of understanding shining through his voice.

“Let’s go meet the boys. This way,” he points with his right arm, gesturing towards the opposite side of the staircase. Boys? My mind swirls around. I can’t meet anyone looking like this, let alone a boy, or boys, plural! I look crazy, like a monster. My hair is frizzy, unruly and greasy. It is hanging limply around my face, except for the bubble of frizz that looks similar to a mountain. I decide to just suck it up. I mean, who cares about first impressions anyways?

We walk down the hall and pass 5, equally messy, bedrooms. Yes, these are definitely boy’s rooms. I lead the way, following the still unnamed man’s directions. After passing the bedrooms, the hall opens up into a big living area. There is a smaller kitchen than the one downstairs, with modern, white counter tops and rounded appliances and contemporary furniture. There are 5 boys sitting around on the white couches. Three brunettes, a blonde, and one with very dark hair.

“Boys, this is Keira. I’ve explained her situation to her, and I don’t want any of you,” he looks at one boy, a curly haired brunette, and continues, “ANY of you, to pester her with questions. Keira,” he glances towards me, “the boys,” the man introduces us.

“Hi, I’m Harry,” the cute, curly haired one says with a wink, clearly the flirt of the group. I haven’t had a boy flirt with me for 3 weeks now, and I can see him as a great guy to flirt back with, with no complications. 

“And I’m Louis,” one boy says. He is sitting next to Harry, and has brown, long-ish hair that fell across his forehead. He was just as attractive as Harry, and his arm stretches over the back of the simple couch, behind Harry’s shoulder. Something about the way he and Harry interact shows that they are clearly at ease around each other, and they act like best friends. The word sends a twinge through my heart as I remember my best friend, Claire. I hope I can have friends visit in my new house, if it’s not too much of a security risk. I can practically hear my escort telling me that my “safety and security issues will be reconsidered.”

“Hey love, I’m Liam,” Liam has brown hair, and he looks at me with concern. I can tell from his eyes that he is definitely a sweet, compassionate, caring boy.

“I’m-um-Zayn,” his hair is dark, and his eyes glint mysteriously. Oh boy, how am I going to live with these boys, drama free, for six months? I’ll just have to occupy myself with photography, and finishing my degree online. The less contact I have with these boys, the better. I start to wonder why they are here, why they need to live in a high security house in London. The fifth and final boy introducing himself interrupts my thoughts, and I shake my head to focus completely on him.

“I’m Niall!” the blonde boy says, pronouncing it like ‘Nile’ in an Irish accent.  He glances at the other boys. His gorgeous blue eyes pierce through mine, and I can’t help wanting to keep staring into them.

“And we’re One Direction!” they say together, so I tear my eyes away from Niall’s eyes, and rack my brain for this familiar name. One Direction, One Direction, where have I heard it before? Abruptly, Claire’s face flashes into my mind. She was obsessed with a boy band called One Direction. There were posters all around our room. I’m rooming with One Direction, for six months. I sense that my wish of drama free living is not going to happen any time soon.

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

A/N: Thanks for reading! I'm gonna upload chapter 3 right now, but chapter 4 won't be up until tomorrow. Also, you guys should check out @breathingforthis. She's writing a Louis fanfic, it's called Spencers Memories. Ellie, if youre reading this, then THANK YOU! ILY and i love hanging out with ya <3 see you tomorrow my lady knight  for some major writing :) 

Uploading chapter 3 now. Have fun, hope you like it.