Chasing Blue Roses

1. Always Go Back to the Start

1. Always Go Back to the Start

   One Direction is in my bank. 

   It’s funny how that was my last thought before my life changed forever.

   Maybe I should have been excited...you know, that overwhelming hysteria that swamps teenage girls – hormones plus boy band equals ear-piercing scream? The thought did occur to me, and perhaps I did feel the stirrings of excitement in my stomach, but mostly, it was just hunger.

   Yes, hunger, because I was on my way home from a twelve-hour shift at the café… hunger, because I’d just picked up a jumbo carton of Ben and Jerry’s Double Choc Fudge ice-cream that I couldn’t wait to eat at home after I was done at the bank.

   The last thing I needed was a re-enactment of the stampede scene from ‘The Lion King’ with the mass of hysterical teenage girls that were probably waiting just outside.  

   It wasn’t even the entire band. As far as I could tell, it was just Louis, Harry and Zayn. I kicked myself mentally for knowing their names. After years of my roommate, Ellie, reciting pointless celebrity trivia, some of it had stuck. The boys sat around the bank’s polished, oak desks; two bodyguards built like trees on either side of them.

   The bank teller was definitely flirting with them. She laughed animatedly, her giggle bouncing in an echo off the bank's tiled walls. I watched a grin twitch at Harry’s lips as he glanced at Louis in amusement, an unspoken message passed between them.

   They were good-looking; I would give them that. All three were slouched casually in their seats, wearing an assortment of branded clothing and ripped jeans that somehow managed to ooze equal parts 'effortless' and 'rockstar' at the same time. A style of clothing that would render us regular mortals 'homeless'.

   Psht, celebrities.   

   Harry’s cool, green eyes flicked around the room before they settled on mine, and it took me a second to realise that I had been staring.

   Oops.

   I turned away, laughing to myself.

   Just eye contact?! I could imagine Ellie's splutters of disbelief. Her head would be about ready to explode at the idea that I hadn’t even asked for a picture.

   I could still feel a pair of eyes on me from across the room, but I made a conscious effort to ignore it. If Harry Styles was eyeing up my tub of ice-cream, he could forget it. I didn’t care how green those eyes were.    

   I scanned my surroundings as I stood in line. The bank was more or less empty right now. I was standing behind a middle-aged woman, holding the hand of a solemn little boy who looked around seven years old. She was next to be served; behind an old man, probably in his sixties, barking at a male teller who looked exasperated.

   The distinctive ring of an iPhone sounded, its tone tearing through the bank's 'elevator music' and muted conversation. One of the band’s bodyguards gestured quickly to the other, before he answered his phone and slipped outside. 

   I watched the second hand of the bank's clock tick idly by, each second dragging longer than it ought to, as if time itself had decided that it couldn’t be bothered to move. I knew exactly how it felt.

   I could see two women through the thin pane of glass behind the counter, probably in their thirties, sipping coffee in a small room. One of them waved wildly and the other burst out laughing.

   Now, if this were a movie, there would have been some kind of warning that something horrible was about to happen. Perhaps an eerie flicker of the lights, a creepy, thin man dressed in all black, or a subtle build-up of ominous music, like in Jaws. I mean, it’s only fair to have a warning.