~Edited~

I picked at the dark satin material that was wrapped tightly around my thighs. I could have easily blamed the smoldering lights above me for the beads of sweat that were forming on my forehead, but I knew better than that. The fact that a trifle blunder such as tripping over my own feet or allowing my smile to falter the smallest bit could quite possibly be plastered on the face of every magazine in England tends to make me nervous. I made a feeble attempt at gulping away the nerves as my eyes scanned the elegant hall. Exquisite chandeliers patterned the ceiling, and in the center, hung the biggest of them all, bordered with dangling crystal clear shards of glass that remained frozen in place. People swarmed excitedly around the hall, circling the two hosts of the party: my parents.

 My legs wobbled involuntarily every time I placed one high heel-graced foot in front of the other. My parents waved me over eagerly, with huge smiles on their lips. To everyone else, the smiles symbolized pride for their daughter. But not everyone could be as knowing as me. The way the couple's eyes scrutinized my every move, every breath, could only be seen as threats, warnings, pleads. They spoke the one phrase they knew best: Charlotte Marie McVerry, don't you dare embarrass us.

The crowd in front of me parted simultaneously, creating a narrow path with my parents awaiting me at end. Everyone was watching the daughter of the world's richest couple as she made her way to her parents. They were judging her, looking for even the smallest of flaws to gossip about. I fidgeted with my fingers nervously and resisted the temptation to allow a sigh of relief to escape my lips when I finally stopped by my mother's side. The families around us erupted into hushed whispers, but soon enough, my father's booming voice swept across the room, silencing every voice effortlessly. Behold, the power of Brian McVerry.

"We hope," he began, pausing for the cameras that were flashing from every corner. Anyone could tell his love for the amount of attention he was recieving.

"We hope that our arrival in London will bring many great things. The company has been going strong, and this is only the beginning of many, many more years of prospering. With my wife, Rita, and my daughter, Charlotte, we will take this business to so many new levels. New stores, now companies, and new clients are only a taste of what's to come."

My parents' company, McVerry Industries, was known around the whole globe. My mother worked as a fashion designer and model, famous for her widely-known clothing line. My father was the head of the whole operation. He regulated business, commerce, and everything else that my mother didn't. The two were respected greatly by the whole business world. 

So it wasn't a surprise when applauds and cheers erupted throughout the entire hall. The crowd's acute attention was brought to where my mother and I were standing once our names left my father's mouth. Mother's elbow discretely nudged me in the side, reminding me that every pair of eyes in the room was on me. I self-consciously tugged at the hem of my dress and waved to the crowd, praying that my actions would be pleasing enough to the people. And when the sound of clapping swept across the room, I knew that they were. 

"Posture," Mother took the guests' deafening claps and cheers as an opportunity to whisper the command into my ear. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and complied by straightening my shoulders. Pleasure swam in the eyes of my mother when she saw that I had obeyed her command, and she returned her attention to the party guests. 

"We hope each and every one of you enjoy your night, and thank you for coming!" she finished, earning another round of applause. I huffed and crossed my arms across my chest, letting my shoulders slump when my parents weren't looking. The crowd dispersed seconds after, allowing me to relax. Having people watch my every move was something I never grew accustomed to. 

I followed my parents off of the platform. It was just like every other party hosted by the infamous McVerrys. Mother and Father snaked around, conversing with the hundred or so families, while I tailed along behind them. After what seemed like an eternity of shaking  hands with strangers and earning a glare from my mother everytime my smile wasn't big enough or my tone not polite enough, I finally excused myself and sat down by the bar.

My gaze scanned the room as I searched for someone capable of making these boredom- filled minutes go by faster. These parties were always filled with people who only really cared about their social status. But sometimes, it was fun. There would occasionally be women -- who refused to eat anything when offered -- sneak over to the desserts table and grab a few brownies. They would look around frantically before not-so-elegantly stuffing the chocolate heaven into their mouths. I continued watching the guests mingle, and some of them would shoot me odd looks when they saw me sitting at the bar alone. I groaned when I spotted a group of girls sauntering their way over to me. Just my luck, I thought.

A few of my parents' wealthy friends had daughters the same age as me. They were among the few that seemed to notice the fact that I didn't belong in the family I was living with and the people I was always surrounded by. And in a way, I was thankful for that. I didn't have to pretend like I  was fond of them and they sure as hell didn't hide their hatred for me. Although I had also always had the impression that they were jealous of me. My parents were among the richest people on the planet and these girls believed I had everything I could ever asked for, which no one could be more wrong about. Sure, I had everything when it came to materials. But when it came to elements like love, happiness, control, I had not a single thing. And I'd give away every last drop of my wealth for just a taste of what it's like to be normal.

I sat my glass of water down on the counter and leaned back into the marble surface, staring up dully at the three girls. I really wasn't in the mood to talk to them, let alone look at them. They smirked down at me through their tacky lip-stick covered lips. The one in the center, Brittany was her name, jutted her right hip out and placed a hand on it. 

"Hey Charlotte," she spoke when her teeth weren't obnoxiously chomping on gum, "I see you're sitting alone. As usual." Her eyebrows danced awkwardly with her words.

Brittany's little minians laughed along with her, as if what she had said had been the most humorous thing on the planet.

"Actually, Brittany, since sitting alone is what I have to do to avoid any sort of interaction with a being like yourself, I take pride in it," I stated and watched her eyes narrow angrily into impossible slits. I didn't like being degraded, especially not from someone like Brittany. Besides, it was funny how easy it was to get under her skin. Kind of like how easy it was for a guy to her into her pants. Woops. 

"Shut it, Charlotte," she sneered, uttering my name as if it were some sort of fatal disease, "That's just another way of saying you have no friends and not a single guy in this room would lay his eyes on you."

I snorted, "You think that's what this is about? In case you haven't noticed, I don't need a guy's attention to feel good about myself."

I stood up from the bar stool, satisfied when I saw that her mouth was agape. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than talk to you." 

I didn't bother to see her reaction before turning around. The room went eerily silent as people whispered around us, and every pair of eyes was on me. My heart nearly stopped beating when I spotted my mother. She was standing only a few feet away from me. Her hands were placed angrily on her hips and she stared me down with fire burning in her eyes. I wouldn't have been surprised to see smoke coming out of her ears. I was about to speak, to explain, but was shocked by the feeling of a drink being dumped over my head. I gasped loudly and the cold liquid dripped down my neck and trickled its way to my arms, seeping through my dress. With my jaw touching the floor, I looked down to see the upper half of my dress soaked. 

My wet hair clung to my face and I slowly spun on my heel, anger pulsing through my veins. She had taken it too far and this time, I wasn't going to restrain myself. My smoldering eyes glared at the girls in front of me. Brittany looked quite proud of herself, with an empty wine glass clutched in her talon-like hands. 

I was about ready to give her a piece of my mind, when the sound of laughter erupted across the hall. Everyone was laughing. At me. Cameras were flashing and people were pointing, taunting. My nails dug into the palm of my hand and my heart sank when I knew I couldn't do or say anything back. My mother would no doubt be furious, and I'd only be "embarrassing" her further. Tears pooled in my eyes as I looked at the people around me. I bit down on my lower lip to aveliate my trembling chin. And what I did next was the thing I was best at.

 I ran.

I stumbled into the ladies' restroom, adjusting my dress. It had already been uncomfortable to begin with, and now it was wet and clinging hideously to my body. I wiped the smeared mascara and eyeliner from underneath my eyes. The few girls that were in there already walked out, whispering and giggling at the sight of me. I placed both hands on the side of the sink. Why did this always happen to me? Why did they have the need to make me feel worthless? My mind raced with thoughts as I stared back at myself in the mirror. What I saw was not what others wanted to see. I was Charlotte McVerry. I loved photography. I was the girl with zero control over her life. I was the girl who had never been properly loved. And what everyone else saw? With a simple read of the tabloids, they knew Charlotte McVerry as the billionaires' rich, spoiled, outgoing daughter. But I wasn't. I was nothing like that. I guess just the thought of being a mere tool of society, around for solely their entertainment and headlines, never attracted me. There was not a single thing I woke up looking forward to. It was the same thing every day. I just wanted things to change. 

I splashed my face with freezing cold water and took some time to compose myself. I was angry. Not at myself, but at my parents. They didn't defend me. They never did.

I wiped away the tears that kept falling and mustered up all the dignity I had -- which was not much --  before shuffling out of the bathroom. The last thing I needed was everyone to see me like this -- crying, distressed, broken. For that reason, I decided to keep my face down. I heard indistinguishable voices still talking about the incident, and willed myself not to cry. Luckily, I slipped between a few families that were conversing and passed my parents, unseen. I discretely sneaked past a group of girls that were walking excitedly over to the bar, catching a part of their conversation on my way out.

"Oh my God, is that really him?" "He looks so hooooot!" I rolled my eyes. They were obviously drunk and probably fawning over another rich snob that always came to these parties. I continued venturing towards the door, slipping out unnoticed and walked further down the dark alley. I found a good, dark spot to sit down and lean against the brick wall. I couldn't care less if my expensive dress got dirty. It already wreaked and was stained with wine. I'd honestly be happy if I never had to wear it again. My eyes scanned the area a few times, checking to see that there was no one there before I pulled out the pack of cigarettes from my clutch. I frowned when I saw it was there was only one left, but lit it nonetheless.

After taking a long, soothing drag, I placed my arms on my knees, watching the couple in the illuminated pavilion that was only a few feet away from the hotel. I studied their appearances, taking in the man's worn out jeans and polo. The girl, wearing a sweatshirt a few sizes too large for her and leggings, was standing in front of the man. From what I could see, her head was resting on top of her intertwined hands. I watched as the man bent down on one knee and pulled out a small box from his pocket. The girl stumbled backwards a little, covering her mouth with her over-sized sleeves. I watched as she nodded happily, jumping into the man's arms. I watched him catch her and spin her around. I watched them share a kiss, under the moonlight.

I watched and I watched, wondering why my life couldn't be like theirs. I wondered why I couldn't have my fairytale, why I wasn't the one who made the decisions, but it was my parents who did. I watched, and as I did, took another drag of the cigarette. A hot tear rolled down my cheek, a tear that symbolized not only yearning, but jealousy of the normal girls out there, the ones who lived life how they wanted.

*Louis' POV*

"Are you Louis Tomlinson? My daughters are massive fans! Can you sign something for them please?" The lady asked, placing a hand full of bracelets on my arm and gripping me tight as if I would disappear without her constricting grip. Her dark brown, nearly black, eyes met mine, allowing me to recognize the pure hope that was swirling within them.

"Um, yeah of course." I replied quickly, not wanting to attract more attention. I smiled and after giving her an autograph, politely excused myself. I walked over to the bar, which was empty, and I looked around at the stereotypical rich families. Most of the families were complimenting each other on their expensive attires. Some were discussing politics, others business. Some were laughing loudly, somehow managing to sound just as artificial as they looked. Everyone was moving around, boasting about their wealth, which had left me wondering why I agreed to come to this party. It was supposed to be one of those welcoming celebrations. Apparently, a wealthy family had just moved into the London area and threw a party to make their mark. 

Deciding I had enough of just standing around, I took my cell phone out and texted Liam, asking if he could pick me up. Sure, it was a great party and all, but there was really nothing there for someone my age to do. For some reason, management found it necessary that one of us boys come to this party, since it was supposedly a big deal. And everyone voted me, probably as revenge for something I pulled on them. I smiled faintly at the thought and looked down at my cell phone, which vibrated. It was Liam, saying that he would send Harry over. 

I smiled, growing excited to leave the party and stuffed my phone back into my pocket, taking a seat on the bar stool. 

"Would you like anything to drink?" The man asked, turning around from where he was cleaning the counter top.

"No, thanks sir. I'm good for now," I replied, drumming my fingers on the marble surface. Well, at least they had tolerable music playing. I allowed a heavy sigh to escape my lips. There was no one interesting here, no one capable of making the night an interesting one.

My thoughts were interrupted by a few girls rushing past, whispering excitedly as they ran to the other side of the room, where a crowd had gathered. My eyebrows met as my mind raced with curious thoughts. It wasn't like I had anything better to do.

I jumped off of the stool and adjusted my coat before making my way to the crowd. I pushed past a few people, glad that I was taller than most of them so it was easy to see what was happening. 

A girl, not much younger than myself, stood facing three others. Her expression was a contortion of annoyance and amusement as she stared bravely at the three girls in front of her. The, what seemed to be, leader of the three girls had her jaw nearly touching the ground. By the looks of it, they were having an argument. And as they argued back and forth, I already knew who I was rooting for. I admired the unkown girl for standing up for herself. She seemed to have snarky remarks, ones that made me have to hold back laughter. 

I watched as the girl turned around. Her mouth was agape and her already huge hazel eyes wide, like a deer's caught in a headlight, when she saw everyone watching. 

Due to the constant traveling of the band, I've seen many magnificent things in my life. Beautiful cities, amazing people, incredible miracles. But never before had I seen anything or anyone so... captivating. 

Captivating. That word seemed to suit her perfectly. A medely of pure confidence and life radiated off of this girl. Just the sight of her left me pondering. Even as she stood startled, with her mouth forming an "o" and her cheeks flushed pink, there was a type of liveliness surrounding the air around her. But at the same time, her eyes told a different story. One of sadness, confusion... lonliness?

A strange sensation of guilt washed over me when I saw her avert her gaze and look away, embarrassed. I stood, frozen in place, when the three girls behind her smiled deviously and brought a drink over the other girl's head. I wanted to warn her, to say something, but I did not know her name. I was frozen in spot. My lips failed to move, to utter a single word. It all happened so fast. The drink splashed over the girl's head, soaking her. The people around me began laughing, pointing at the soaked girl. To joke was on thing. But to completely embarrass someone in front of hundreds of people was another. I stood still, anger boiling its way through my whole body. This wasn't fair. No one was helping her. Everyone was standing around, watching, as if her embarrassment was some type of entertainment. 

I ran a clammy hand through my already messy hair. I felt bad for this girl and was about to help her, before she turned around and sprinted clumsily up the stairs. Granted, I didn't know a single thing about her, but I couldn't help but feel that this wasn't the first time she experienced such embarrassment.

The image of her shattered expression impaled itself into my mind. She had stood self-conscious, with her arms wrapped around her dark blue dress. My hands curled into fists. How could people be so cruel? I wanted nothing more than to follow her up the stairs, tell her that maybe the thought seemed insane, but somehow, some way, everything would be alright.

The crowd slowly began dispersing after that, but they kept talking about the recent incident. I felt angry at each and every one of them, hating this party even more than before.

I groaned and stared at the clock behind me. Where was Harry? It had already been half and hour since Liam sent him. I had taken my previous seat at the bar and couldn't deny the fact that my eyes were darting around the room, looking for the girl. It was stupid of me to think that she would join the party after what had happened, but I couldn't help it. I wanted to talk to her. I had not a single idea what I would say, but the desire didn't fade.

After a few minutes, in which the only thing on my mind was the girl in the blue dress, a few other girls recognized me and stumbled over, asking for pictures and flirting, obviously drunk out of their minds. After that, I decided to go wait outside the building, where I wouldn't feel like snapping at everyone that talked to me. I walked out of the back doors and into the alley, thanking the party hosts for inviting me on the way out. The shiver that racked its way through my cold body managed to make me smile. It was something about cold Winter nights had always been a joy to me, it was just something I preferred over any other night. And in a city like London, that's exactly what we got. 

I stuffed my hands into my pockets and glanced up at the sky, taking a liking to the quiet atmosphere. The wind was possibly the only thing marking its presence, howling its way through the night, accompanied by the occasional blare of car horns. It was a nice change from the loud chatter and music that was in the party hall. Everything about the night seemed so perfect, the full moon was glowing, despite the clouds that attempted to shadow it. It was picturesque. And somehow, for a reason that still remains a mystery, when my eyes landed on a girl that was sitting still with her head against the wall, the night only seemed more incredible. I knew who it was. The upper half of her dress was darker than the bottom because of the drink that had seeped through it. There was nothing else I could make out about her appearance in the dark, except for the brightly lit cigarette in her hand. And strangely enough, it fit like a puzzle piece to the tableu. Everything was perfect yet so shattered at the same time. It was like a picture frame that had fallen off of the wall, causing the glass hovering above it to crack. But the picture beaneath remained untarnished, as impeccable as ever. Just like the scene before me.

*Charlotte's POV*

"You know those things aren't good for you." 

I didn't look to my left to see the boy who had spoken. Instead, I allowed the cigarette to rest between my lips. I didn't trust myself to speak. I didn't trust my eyes to be free of tears. Because slowly but surely, they kept falling. 

After a few seconds of silence, I heard some shuffling and groaned inwardly when I realized he had probably sat down next to me. Looks like he took my silence as an invitation to join me. 

I soon craned my neck the slightest bit, confirming my suspicions. The light coming from the busy street outlined his dark brown hair, which was styled into a quiff. His breath-taking sapphire blue eyes shone through the darkness, leaving me shocked for just a moment. He was looking straight ahead, but I had a feeling he knew I was acknowledging his presence.

I realized I had been staring and averted my gaze. "I know," I said softly. I knew it was harmful. But maybe that's why I didn't bother to quit. In a world where all I've seen is perfection, smoking was just one way out.

"Then why do you do it?" He retorted, obviously confused about my behavior. Why do you care? I swallowed the harsh response, not allowing it to leave my mouth. Granted, he was a stranger whom I knew nothing about, but that didn't give me permission to be rude.

I gave the question a little thought and answered lamely, "I guess.. I just tried it and I can't stop now?" It came out as more of a question than the answer I had hoped. I was not obliged to tell him my life story and he should learn to mind his own business.

After not hearing a reply from the boy, I peered over my left shoulder to see him studying me shamelessly, skepticism etched across his features. "That's not true. You have other reasons for why you smoke." He said, still watching me with narrowed, curious eyes.

"You don't know anything about me." I responded, my volume a little louder than I had intended. I felt my stomach knot uneasily because of his scrutinizing glare.

"I don't need to know anything about you to know that smoking isn't good for you." The boy, whom I still hadn't learned the name of, nodded towards the cigarette. He wasn't going to back down that easily, his already prominent stubborn nature reminded me much of my own.

Before I could say anything, he took the cigarette out of my hand and instead of putting it out, like I thought he would, he brought it to his own lips and took a quick drag. It took me a few seconds to register his smooth actions, but once I did, irritation for the boy caused my eyes to narrow.

 "Why the hell did you do that?!" I yelled, smacking the stick out of his hands. The cigarette landed on the ground in front of us and the corners of the boy's lips twitched up into a mocking smile, which remained even when a sudden cough escaped his mouth.

"That can hurt you, you idiot! You... you're insane!" I added when he kept coughing. He gagged and attempted a laugh, shaking his head. His impossibly blue eyes met mine, making my anger diminish and nerves to rise. I shook it off, I was not going to act nervous around this boy.

"Being a bit hypocritical, aren't we?" He remarked. His voice was a bit raspier than before because of the smoke he inhaled. I groaned and got up while fixing my dress and stepped on the cigarette with my heels to put it out. 

"What do you want?" I asked, irritation swallowing my plans to be kind to the strange boy. He simply stood up and leaned on the brick wall next to me. His mysterious actions confused me and I watched him glance away momentarily before meeting my eyes. 

"That was quite a scene in there."

I didn't need to ask to know what he was talking about. He was probably going to make fun of me, just like every other person that was in the building. 

"Look, I'd rather not talk about it--"

"I'm impressed."

"Why can't you under--" my tongue froze when I finally comprehended his words. Impressed? He took my silence as an invitation to continue.

"The way you stood up for yourself. Not many girls would do that. Oh and if you haven't guessed already, I was on your side the whole time." 

Mystery boy smiled widely. That's when I noticed them. The way the corners of his eyes would crinkle like a candy wrapper, only adding to his childish smile. Who was he?

"Err.., thanks," I muttered under my breath. I wasn't used to compliments. Especially not from strange boys that steal my ciggarette from me in an alley. Curious when I received no response, I looked up and saw that there was no one next to me. I frowned. Was I just imagining him? I was debating my sanity for a few seconds before I finally spotted the boy to my left, walking towards the street. His coat was now tossed over his shoulder, so he was cald in a white flannel shirt that was tucked loosely into his pants. I watched him as he focused intently on something on the ground, but kept moving. Who just walks away in the middle of a conversation like that?

He was so confusing.

I don't know why, or when, but my feet began moving, following his footsteps. When I finally caught up to him, I saw that he was hopping. Wait. Hopping?

"What are you doing?" I questioned when he jumped from one place on the gravel to another. Was he insane? 

The boy licked his lips, momentarily ignoring my question, and frowned when he seemed to miss what he was aiming for once again. He leaped one more time, and then looked back up at me.

"I'm trying to catch my shadow. Duh," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The only other time I've seen someone act like this was when they were drunk, but this guy sure wasn't. 

"You should help me," he smiled. 

"Um, I'd rather not. I think I'm gonna go inside, actually. It's getting cold. And my dress is still soaked."

I ran my hands up and down my goosebump-filled arms. I couldn't ignore the tug at my heart when the words left my mouth. I didn't want to go. but my parents were probably looking for me. God forbid I miss yet another one of their speeches. I turned around to leave, not really sure how to say goodbye to the stranger, and took one step before I felt something silky being draped over my bare shoulders. Startled, I picked at the suede material. It was a coat. And I'd be crazy to deny that it smelled amazing. 

I spun on around, only to see the boy, his name still unknown, smiling at me. I tilted my head, deep in thought. He was weird, to say the least. But maybe weird is just what I needed. All I've seen is perfection, maybe weird is a new adventure. 

I didn't know how to thank him, but instead, asked him the one question that had been tugging at my thoughts since he first spoke to me. 

"What are you doing here? I mean, there's a great party inside, why are you out here?" 

He seemed like he gave the question little thought before answering, "I don't really like these kind of parties. I guess you could say it's just not my scene." He shrugged nonchalantly and took a seat on the crub. I followed suit and sat down. 

"Oh, I can relate." I sighed, thinking about all of the parties I was forced to attend, the people I was forced to befriend.

"Really? Not a party girl, yourself?" He asked, curiosity in his voice as he question by question, found out things about my life no one else knew, not even my parents. And the weird thing was that for some reason, I kept giving him answers.

"Not at all." I nodded, agreeing with his statement. I kept my answers short, blunt, not knowing whether or not to trust this stranger. Sure, he seemed childish and harmless, but I'd learned one could never be too careful. And the fact that I was sitting out on the streets at night, with this complete stranger, did make my mind pool with regret. But once again. What did I have to lose? 

He laughed -- the sound of his laughter strangely musical to my ears and stuck his hand out.

"I'm Louis," he said, anticipating my reaction. I thought for a few seconds. What would be the harm in making a new friend? In ridding myself of the solitary confines I called my life for much too long? My emotions swirled like a tornado in the pit of my stomach, regret, anticipation, and excitement all in one.

I hesitantly put my hand in his, "I'm Charlotte, but you can call me Char." Even though it was dark, I could make out the traces of his warm smile. 

"Nice to meet you, Char."

I fought back a smile and was about to speak when his phone rang. He held up his pointer finger, fishing for through his jacket's pocket for the device and answered the call. I took this as an opportunity to actually observe him. Louis wasn't too tall, standing only two inches higher than myself. A small stubble stood out on his chin, framed by a seemingly flawlessly structured jawline. His eyes met mine and I instantly snapped my gaze away, hoping that the darkness that swallowed the alley also hid the crimson blush that rose onto my cheeks. I crossed my arms over my chest and pulled his coat tighter around myself. I felt guilty. He was probably cold, too. It was almost freezing temperature outside and here I was, wearing his coat.

"Hey, yeah. Alright, in the front? Good, thanks mate, I'm on my way." He had a quick conversation and hung up, before turning to me.

"Listen, I've got to go now because my friend is here to pick me up, but it was real nice meeting you, Char. Take care of yourself." He smiled. His words held a deeper meaning than anyone else would have comprehended. So strong that it made my heart swell.

"Yeah, you too!" I yelled, watching him walk away. 

I turned around as well but I didn't want to leave. This was possibly the most amazing thing I've ever experienced. He was so different, and after so long, I felt alive. I sighed and pulled the warm coat tighter around myself. That's right... the coat! I tried to convince myself that the coat wasn't just an excuse to turn around and see Louis again, I did, but when I reached him, I knew it wasn't true. 

"Oh hey," he said, clearly surprised that I had followed him. I smiled sheepishly and swung the coat off of the shoulders, the coldness of the air biting my arms as soon as they were bare. 

"You... you, um, forgot your coat," I said quietly, feeling a bit embarrassed, and held it out to him. Louis gently shoved my arm away. 

"Keep it. You can give it back the next time we meet," he said. His eyes were twinkling, quite possibly, brighter than the stars. 

"How do you know there will be a next time?" I couldn't help but ask. I was mad at myself when I realized my voice sounded a little too hopeful, and he probably thought I was desperate. His words did soothe me, though. Louis had made me feel better about my life in a matter of minutes. 

"I know these things, Char." Louis' right eye dropped down into a wink and he looked at the street in front of us, where a black Range Rover had honked, before glancing back at where I was stood. I realized I probably should let him leave now, and return to the party myself.

"Take care Louis." I said, not moving from my spot as I watched Louis get into the passenger's seat of  the car. He nodded in response and waved at me one last time before closing the passenger door of the vehicle and driving away. It left me wondering. Why was this boy, who I had met only minutes ago, able to make me feel so comfortable? Usually, around strangers, I was quiet. Reserved. But he was so different. He was easy to talk to, to relate to. Why did he make me feel like I could, right this moment, turn my life around?  Louis left me wondering, confused, and exposed all at the same time and I couldn't help but have a feeling he was right. This wouldn't be the last time we met. After all, I still had to return his coat.

***

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