Soul Mates

Chapter Four

The lads and I are all just sitting around, finishing our ice cream, when Paul walks in. He rolls his eyes at us. "Hey, Paul," we chorus. 

"Hi, lads."

"Should we grab our bags?" Liam asks. Daddy Direction, anyone?

"First, I want to tell you all something." We all nod. "I believe I've found your stylist."

"Holy sh*t, Paul," Niall swears, cussing like it's his first language.

"What's the lass' name?" Zayn asks. 

"Reagan Troy-Paige," he replies. 

Reagan?

"How old is she?" Harry asks. 

"I'd say about twenty."

Reagan?

"How'd you meet her?"

"She works at Starbucks, and she and her friend were arguing about how she needs to go to her dream job as a stylist for a singer. I figured 'hey, why don't we give someone their dream?'"

Reagan?

"What was she like?" Liam asks. 

"Really sweet and respectful," he gives me a look, "um, polite, modest, and kind of stubborn."

"So like Liam, sort of?" Niall asks. 

"Yeah, kinda." Liam rolls his eyes. 

Reagan?

"We'll, c'mon, we gotta go to the airport." We all grab our bags. We drive to the Sarasota airport, and very soon are on the plane. Paul advises us to sleep, so we're rested. I plug in my earbuds, when were given the okay, and listen to music, as I drift off. 

-:-

I feel Paul shake me, as I slowly wake up. I pull out my earbuds. "I'm up, I'm up." I stretch, and look at the time on my phone. 11:47. Jesus. 

"Louis..." Paul trails. I look up to him. "Happy birthday," he smiles. 

I grin back. "Thanks Paul." I'm twenty-three now. My god. So much for staying forever eighteen. I sigh slightly, before stepping off the plane, and grabbing my bag. We make our way through the sea of paparazzi, and get into the van, – where the lads wish me happy birthday – dropping each of us at our places. 

I enter my flat, dropping my bag, and flopping on the couch. Minutes later, the front door opens, and my little sisters and mum file in. I smile, sitting up. "Hi, Lou!" My sisters chorus, attacking me in a huge hug. 

"Hello, girls," I kiss the tops of all their heads. After exchanging greetings and small talk, I send them to the kitchen, where I have a stash of Oreos and M&Ms. 

"Hi, BooBear."

I stand up, hugging my mother. "Hey, mum."

"Happy birthday, Lou."

"Thanks, Mum."

"How are you?" She asks. 

"Jetlagged, tired, but not as bad anymore. And you?"

"Good. Did you find your soul mate yet?"

"Here we go," I mutter. 

"Lou..." She trails. 

"No, I haven't, Mum."

"Don't you want to find her?"

"No, because I don't need her. I'm fine how I am."

"Don't you want to be happy like Zayn?"

"I don't need her," I repeat. 

"Lies."