If I could fly {h.s} -

chapter 28

Deep down, I knew that as soon as I stepped on board that plane that I probably over thought everything. My decision to just leave the country like that was extremely rash, and it was obvious that I needed to think about it with a sane mind that wasn't influenced by the champagne, and the rich people that surrounded me. I was a nervous thinker. Whenever I was placed in a new situation and felt nervous or uncomfortable I blabbled away in my mind about why the new people that I have met don't like me. 

When I look back on my ridiculous thinking, It was obvious to tell that I was stupid. I should not have left Harry. Has he noticed I've even left? 

He hasn't called me. 

Its been a week. 

I sigh, as I lean across an empty table.Within a day of being in London I managed to find a job. It was in a wonderful restaurant that paid fantastically, not to mention that it was for upper class people who like to give large tips after their meal beside the river Thames. 

I run the cloth over the glass and contemplating everything. I tried to picture my actions from maybe an outsiders point of view, only to realise that I sounded like a high maintenance bitch. Nonetheless, I checked my phone as often as I could, waiting for a text from Harry. Many times, I felt as though I heard my phone ping  with a notification, only to be extremely devastated when It was only my ears playing tricks on me.

"you nearly done?" Maggie, a wonderful new friend I have acquired peered around my shoulder, a bottle of disinfectant in her perfectly manicured nails. I nodded with a small grin on my face. I could never not smile around Maggie. 

Maggie was the first and only friend I had in London. We had crossed paths at our work place, when the manager, Tony, asked her to show me the ropes. 

We talked a lot during the first few hours of our long shift, and she soon offered me a place to stay until I get enough money to buy my own apartment. She declared that I was the first american that she had met, and so, that apparently sealed the knot in her eyes. She's obsessed I swear. On many occasions she has attempted to mimic my accent, only to sound more  European than Yank.

She knows alot about me already, including my irrational reasons of moving to England. I was glad that she was honest with me, rather than tell me I did the right thing just to be nice. She agreed that she could see my reasoning, but she and I both know that I went a little overboard.

Maggie and I headed back to her apartment. It would be an understatement if I said I loved the place.

She explained that her "rich parents" had bought it for her. It literally felt like I was living in Urban Outfitters. The walls were paved with red Bricks, and were covered in book shelves, with little items like cacti and dream catchers. It was prefect and represented the Red headed girl perfectly. 

"still thinking about that rich lover boy of yours?" She enquired, slinging her arm patronisingly over my shoulder, knowing all to well that she was correct. She definitely picked up on things quickly.

I rolled my eyes, not giving her an answer, but of course she picked up on my extremely quiet behaviour. 

Finally, Maggie and I had both stepped out onto the streets of London, and had began to walk towards the apartment complex. All though London still remained a city, and the people that dwelled within the city lived in the fast lane, it somehow had a different atmosphere. 

New York was hot summers, cold winters. London was warm summers, wet winters and it relaxed me. The sound of rain pitter pattering on the glass patio door that led out the balcony seemed like a lullaby and I couldn't make me feel more comfortable. For once, I wasn't thinking about the Curly haired boy, but I was gazing out of the window in a plush bean bag wrapped up in blankets with a cup of coffee and planning out my future. 

What job will I have? Will I ever get married?Have kids? 

Although I wasn't directly thinking about him, the little irritating entity at the back of my mind continued to tug and tell me that It was going to be Harry that will fill in the blanks. I wanted it to be. I know that its early to come to these conclusions but is it? When I was younger I vowed to myself that I would never waist my time- or someone elses for that matter- and be in a relationship that I believed didn't have potential to be something more than just boyfriend and girlfriend. I have seen many be in a relationship for sexual needs and there was always one that ended up getting broken hearted. I was so blinded by Harry's hospitality that I had fell for his trap. Yes, he did show that he cared, but it wasn't in my best interest. 

I thought about what perhaps would've happened if I didn't make a run for it. Would Harry and I be wrapped up in the sheets? or an another gala? 

I stared blankly at the flashing billboards, skimming the words on the tabloids but not really letting them sink in. However my eyes instantly were drawn to a single picture. A picture that made me slop my steaming hot coffee onto my lap, and proceed to drop the mug onto the hard wood floor. 

All pain was muted by an overwhelming shock as I desperately waited for the picture to slide onto the screen again. 

I was practically pressed against the glass, very much thankful that Maggie was in the shower, unable to see my psychotic state. My eyes were wide with anticipation and my lungs sucked in as much oxygen as they could.

Young Billionaire Harry Styles reported missing.