The Secret Rendezvous (A One Direction FanFic) [ON HOLD]

Chapter 1

"Jordan?" the waitress said.

"That's me," I said, smiling up at her, taking the burning hot mug of hot chocolate from her hands. "Thanks."

"No problem, sweetheart. Whatcha workin' on there?" she asked, with a strong country accent. I knew Ms. Rosewell was hiring at the cafe, but really? (A/N- I'm American and have a bit of a country accent. I say y'all in every sentence haha no hate.)

"A story," I laughed, keeping my words short. I wasn't a good talker. I spoke on paper.

"Ooh, you're a writer? That's just great hun. Too many pretty gals like yourself are wasting their lives on that damn tweeter. You! You're making a life for yourself! Why I wish my daughter-"

"May I place an order?" a timid looking brunette asked her.

"Oh, why of course! Great talking to you, Jordan darling. Good luck with your novel," she smiled before walking away.

I rolled my eyes to myself as I took a sip of my cocoa and kept typing. My phone buzzed. Twitter. Just more tweets from fans. I laughed at some and locked my iPhone. I looked out the windows into the rainy London streets. There were hardly any people on this side of town. No one was walking the streets, no traffic, it was peaceful in the city, which was odd because it was nearly Christmas.

Now, I wasn't originally from England. I was born and raised in a small town in California. I got a scholarship to the University Of London for my writing. For now, I was on Wattpad. I've written all types of stories. Romance, Mystery, Fan Fiction, Teen Fiction, lots of short stories and poems, Horror, and tons more. I was pretty popular on Wattpad. I actually fit in there, my escape to be with people just like me, not the monkeys I went to high school with. I liked it in England too. People are sophisticated and mature here.

I was discovered by U of L and gotten a full scholarship thrown at me. I took it up right away. I'm still on Wattpad, I haven't gotten a publishing deal yet.

I kept writing until I was told to leave, because they were closing. I set my money on the table, and packed my laptop and worn notebook into the over-the-shoulder bag I was using today. I adjusted the beanie on my head, letting a few of my relaxed brown curls fall out. I took off my reading glasses, and put them in their case in my bag. Then, I stepped out into the night. I didn't drive today, I wasn't expecting to get so caught up. I would have to walk back to my flat. Great. I always got a bad feeling about nights in London, even where I was. I had a weird feeling deep down in my stomach. I looked around, cautiously making my way down the poorly lit street.

"Come on moon, get brighter," I muttered. The raindrops were starting to soak through my clothes.

"What's that babe?" a deep, scratchy voice said from behind me. I spun around, to see a scruffy old man, closing in on me.

"Stay away from me!" I screamed. He ran to me, and I, being the graceful ballerina I am, fell flat on my face. My bag and I landed in a puddle. I heard a buzz come from the bag, followed by a spark.

"Oh no!" I screeched. I didn't have time to check on it, I was yanked up by my hair, and thrown against the wall. The man started to pull my sweater off.

I'm about to get raped, was my thought before a car spun wildly around the corner, and another man jumped out.

Great. Rapist dude got some back up.