Elusive [Harry Styles]

22. Two Ghosts

"Wow," Emily nodded, clearly impressed by my classic, bright white convertible Mercedes Benz that the garage door slowly rolled up to reveal. "Very suave."

Her footsteps echoed on the concrete as she lead the way over to the car, eyeing it very closely and curiously before heading to the passenger side and opening the door. We both got in and buckled up and I just couldn't help but show off and childishly rev the engine as I started the car up, like a teenager that'd just passed his test and was trying to impress the girl he fancied outside of school. She rolled her eyes at my proud grin. 

"Isn't she a beauty?"

"Just drive, Styles."

Luckily we didn't receive too much unwanted attention on the drive into the city - surprisingly, you don't actually stand out that much driving a gleaming soft top Benz somewhere like Los Angeles. I loved the freedom of driving one of my own favourite cars - the wind in my hair, the sun beating down on my skin, music flowing through the speakers.

Once we reached civilisation, we parked up at a meter and headed down the road to a little ice cream truck that I've been to before on a previous visit, it was cute, quaint, simple. So far so good - we had some looks whilst we waited in the queue as a few people had clearly recognised me, but we were being left alone and all was quiet so I couldn't complain. Folks were quite respectful and chilled out in the States, I hoped that Emily was enjoying the freedom and able to relax as well. 

The man behind the counter in the truck was hispanic-looking with olive skin, dark slicked back hair and a moustache sitting atop his pearly teeth, wearing a crisp white t-shirt. He was very friendly and welcoming (as all are Americans), happily chatting away and taking our orders.  

"That accent," he pondered as he scooped our ice cream, "you kids aren't from round here, huh?" 

"Uhh... No," I responded. "We're from the UK."

"Ahh," he nodded with recognition. "You on vacation?"

I looked at Emily who looked amused, probably wondering how I'd answer this one. No actually, I'm part of one of the world's biggest boybands, I live here half of the time and I'm just taking a break from our fourth sold out world tour. "Yeah, kind of."

"Nice, nice." He handed me down Emily's order and I passed it to her, watching as she dug the little spoon into her strawberry scoop and took a mouthful, pinching the plastic in between her lips. 

"Which one of you two is famous then?" he asked nonchalantly, obviously noticing the stares and the few people trying to secretly snap pictures of me on their phones from a distance. He looked at Emily as he handed me my ice cream, "Is it you? Don't tell me... You're a supermodel right?"

She chuckled at his blatant, almost humorous flattery. "Mhm. Yep."

He had picked up on her playful tone and grinned, pointing at her, "I knew it... "Enjoy, you guys."

I laughed at the exchange. "Thanks, man."

"No problem. You two are a cute couple."

My eyes nervously darted to Emily, whose expression didn't falter as if she wasn't at all bothered or even really paying attention, absentmindedly eating her ice cream, but I panicked for some reason. "Oh, err... We're not-"

"Right," he cut in quickly with a smirk as he threw his tea towel over his shoulder. "Take care. Adios."

I gave him one of those really awkward, lips pressed together, looking more uncomfortable than ever, embarrassed smiles and a wave and we headed back down the street.