Soulmates, sunflowers, hot air balloons, ballet, wildfire and music.
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EXCERPT:
"Why do you always call me sunflower?" She looks as though she's desperate for the answer, staring into my soul with so much sincerity in her words.
I smile to mysel...
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The first thing I hear is a loud clap right beside my ear, courtesy of my best friend Esme.
Loud noises first thing in the morning after a night of drinking is literally my idea of hell.
I don't know how Es does it so well. I have never, not once in my life, seen her hungover.
I swear I didn't drink much at the concert last night.
We went out for dinner first, where I had a few glasses of rosé with my pasta, and then a few cocktails at the bar backstage we managed to talk our way into.
And then I can't remember much more.
Okay so maybe forgetting how much I drank isn't a good sign.
You win some, you lose some.
But what I can remember is how amazing the concert was.
Honestly. Harry Styles, what a man.
He is so talented and his singing in person is so much more impressive than I would have ever imagined it to be.
I'm starting to see why Esme obsesses over him so much.
His voice was so clear as well, like it was no one else in the arena besides me and him. It was so peculiar, but so captivating.
I'm surprised I didn't pass out from the mixture of heat, with the alcohol, the strobe lights and loud music.
Sounds like the perfect mix for disaster but it really wasn't. The opposite of a disaster if anything.
And I especially cannot erase the perfect memory of him singing my favorite song, The Chain by Fleetwood Mac.
I was so taken back when he announced he would be singing it. Guess he must love it as much as me. He sang the words so beautifully, if I could, I'd listen to it on repeat for a lifetime.
"Come on E, up you get." Her loud voice rumbles through my head, only making my pounding headache intensify.
"Five. More. Minutes." I groan, rolling my head into the pillow and bringing the covers up to hide me away from the outside world.
It's scary out there.
"Nope, uh uh. You said that over an hour ago and I don't know what One Direction mathematics you are on. But in this apartment, five minutes means five minutes. Up now." Here she goes again with their 'eighteen month hiatus' talk.
I fidget under the blankets as I feel her begin to pull them off me.
"I will hurt you." I say turning my head to her and giving her a death stare.
"Sweetie, I'm a directioner, and have been for ten years now. You couldn't hurt me even if you tried." She gives me a sweet sarcastic smile.
"Oh so you don't mind if I talk about how Zayn left the band or. Oh. What's his name? Sam? No, no. Stephen? No. Oh I know, Si-" I begin teasing her before she abruptly cuts me off.
