"You said, no you sang, you sang that everything was gonna be alright. You said that we'll be alright, Harry. But did you mean that?"
Where Belle Olivia Granger encounters five young boys who happen to be in the biggest boyband on the planet, and sh...
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The bright screen of my phone lights up my face for a moment longer as I commit the address Harry sent me to memory, having repeated this exact same process every few minutes on our ride over. Removing my eyes from the blue light to instead focus on the brass numbers screwed to a slick concrete wall, I make sure the four digit sequence coincides with the message on my phone before turning as quickly as my nearly seven month old baby bump will allow to squint into the distance at the street sign.
"Give me that!" My companion frustratedly huffs as her long finger nailed hands easily rip the phone from me. Smacking my lips together with a roll of my eyes, I rest my hands on my hips and breathe in harshly at the ache that is already forming deep within the muscles of my back, the harsh July sun not doing much to aid in my current condition.
Perfectly manicured nails with white tips that shine in my eyes scroll over my phone before their owner eventually looks passed me to our very annoyed driver who's been sitting at the curb with his window down for the past few minutes waiting for me to confirm we are in the right place so he can leave. Dark brown eyes soften with a small glimmer of sympathy for the man before the striking girl who possess them nods at him, shoving the phone back at me.
"This is the place. Thank you," Caroline Sawyer waves our visibly irritated driver off with a smile before every ounce of kindness slips from her expression as she turns on me. My eyes widen slightly as I can't help but cower under her gaze. "I know you get anxious about everything, but your pregnancy is making it so much worse."
"I know, I know," I wave the model off with a small exasperated roll of my eyes. My arm shoots out and reaches up to wrap around her shoulders since she's considerably taller than me, and I give her a light thankful squeeze as I start guiding us toward the revolving glass doors that not a single person has come in or out of since we pulled up which is extremely strange for such a busy Los Angeles street, but when it comes to this ten year anniversary, the men of One Direction are taking no chances.
They have rented out almost the entire building for themselves when they truly only need one of the many recording studios that reside here.
Sliding my hand down Caroline's skinny back, I lock my left arm with her right one to keep us close as we walk.
"Thank you for coming with me today," I warmly thank her. "I know we haven't been able to hang out much, and this is probably the last thing you want to do, but I've missed you Carl, and I'm glad you're here," I call her by the nickname I gave her back when we first met, and I was her regular customer at the Beachwood Cafe where she used to work as a barista.
"It's not that big of a deal, Bill," Caroline chuckles dryly with slight humor in her tone as she uses her similar nickname for me.
Cool air conditioning blasts into us when we enter the large building, thankfully relieving me from the intense heat wave outside that was not boding well with my worsening pregnancy symptoms, a kind young man sitting at the large desk in the middle glancing up nervously. His eyes dart between us and his computer screen, probably checking to make sure we have been cleared to enter the building before he eventually seems to soften his tense shoulders.
