I know this chapter is very fictional and highly unlikely to happen, but that's why it's fan-fiction xD Um, so that's about it, I guess. If you have any questions or ideas you'd like to share, you can comment or message me & I'll do my best to respond :D Enjoy<3

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Chapter 3 – Valerie’s P.O.V.

            This is not happening. Pinch me, I must be dreaming. I’m not standing in the line to meet One Direction. I’m not standing in the line to meet the five boys that changed my whole perspective on life. I’m not standing in line to meet my idols. I’m simply not here. Yup, that’s it. I’m either dreaming, or I’ve died and gone to fangirl heaven. This just isn’t happening. It was all one big—

            “I’m Harry Styles.”

            My eyes widened as the curly haired boy was soon in front of me. The hell? How did we get to the front so fast? Did I really think that long? My eyes flickered over to see Stevie hugging Niall and talking with Zayn, but this sexy green eyed boy was staring at me. Me, of all the damn people in the world. This simply isn’t real.

            “Erm, hello?” Harry waved his large hand in front of my face as I felt my breath hitch in my throat. God, he smells good. But then I felt tears whelming in my eyes. Before I could process what I was doing, I jogged up to him and flung my arms around his neck. Harry seemed taken off guard at first, but then he wrapped his muscular arms around my waist, squeezing back.

            Holy shit, shit, shit, fuck. Harry Styles is actually holding me back. Holding me like he never wants to let go. Then again, that’s probably my fangirl side speaking. But I can’t help the tears from pouring out my eyes. “Thank you for saving my life,” I whispered as my head buried into his shoulder. I know it sounds cheesy, and I know he hears it all the time, but this boy and the four other lads helped me through six months of treatment. They helped me through six months of being in that damn hospital, and they weren’t even there. Talk about unbelievable.

            Harry pulled away slightly, but not forcing. It took all of me to untangle my arms from around his neck. I couldn’t believe I was just hugging him. I couldn’t believe any of this right now, and I don’t even think I’m processing all of this. I think my mind is trying to hold on, but my heart is pounding like crazy.

            Harry gave me a warm smile, his hands on my shoulder. “What’s your name, love?” he asked softly in his deep British accent. My heart fluttered at the sound of it in person, but also at being called love by an actual British person.

            “Valerie,” I replied, wiping my eyes vigorously. “I’m sorry. I’m didn’t mean to breakdown or throw myself on you.” I groaned as the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. “You probably think I’m some freak and—“

            “Not at all,” Harry smiled genuinely. “Wait here for a minute.” I nodded, my mind wandering on why the Harry Styles wants me to wait. I’m dreaming. I’m definitely dreaming. This is a fantasy made up in my mind. But still, the fantasy Harry Styles walked back up to me with a dimpled grin, handing me a box of tissues. “I thought you might need some,” he said sheepishly. Holy actual crap. Is Harry Styles actually being shy around me? No. Again, this is all in my head. But that hug felt pretty damn real.

            “Thanks,” I chuckled weakly, taking one and wiping my leaking eyes. I let out a large sigh as I raked a hand through my hair. “There’s my meltdown for the day.”

            Harry chuckled and I swear it was like listening to an angel. “Well, Valerie.” My heart skipped a beat at the use of my name in a British accent. “Mind if I call you Val?”

            My mouth parted in shock. “N-No, I don’t mind at all,” I said, a little too quickly.

            Harry smiled. “All right, Val,” he smirked. “How old are you?”

            “19,” I said, but then my fangirl mouth kept rambling. “We actually share the same birthday and I’m two hours younger than you.”

            Harry quirked an eyebrow and I mentally face-palmed myself at how fast I spoke. “You know the time I was born?” Harry asked, amusement lacing his tone.

            “Yes, I mean, no,” I shook my head rapidly as Harry laughed. “I mean, I do, but… Jesus, I sound like a total stalker right now.”

            “It looks cute on you,” Harry smirked, sending me a flirtatious wink as my eyes widened. That did not just happen.

            “Please. When I’m flustered, it’s probably one of the scariest sights you’ll ever see,” I admitted. Again, I mentally slapped myself for my stupid rambling.

            Harry gave me that warm smile again which made my heart melt. “I guess I’m weird, because I find it rather adorable,” he beamed. He then cleared his throat as I was mentally pinching myself. “Do you… would you maybe want to hang out sometime? We’ll be here for a couple weeks on vacation. We could trade numbers.”

            I’m pretty sure my jaw dropped to the floor. “Y-You, m-my number?” I stammered, breathing heavily as my eyes grew huge.

            “If that’s all right,” Harry smiled.

            “All right? That’s freaking unbelievable!” I squealed, but then tried to calm myself. “Crap, I’m ruining this possible friendship. Do you have a pen before I literally faint on the ground?”

            Harry laughed. “I meant it when I said you were adorable,” he chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this amused during a meet and greet.”

            “Is that good or bad?” I asked, my heart dropping to my stomach.

            “Good,” Harry simply said, sending me another smile before he reached into his back pocket. “Always keep a pen, just in case. For autographs or pretty girls like yourself.” If I didn’t have the slightest self-control, I would’ve started fanning myself.

            “Five minutes left of the meet and greet. Ten minutes till show time!” a manager called, making Harry and I both look that way.

            “Better give me that number, or else I’ll pull my own stalking skills and hunt you down.” Harry’s comment made me jerk my head to look at him. I found he was already staring at me (which made me blush like crazy), that dimpled smile that I adored over pictures flashing back at me.

            “Harry Styles stalking me?” I then thought about it. “I think I can live with that.”

            Harry chuckled as he then held his arm out. I stared at the muscular limb in front of me, hardly believing that I was about to touch it. Still, with shaking hands I grabbed his forearm and gently wrote with the pen on his skin. I then squinted up at him, to which he furrowed his eyebrows. “Why am I putting toxins into your perfect body when we have things called iPhones?” I asked in disbelief at how oblivious we were.

            Harry smirked. “Perfect body, huh?” he smiled. “But this way I know for sure that it’s there. You can put it in my phone too, but I want to see it for reassurance.”

            He did not just flipping say that to me. He wanted to see my number on his arm? Please. I’d do anything to get his damn autograph, but I’m about to get his damn number. What the hell just happened to the world? I don’t even know. But I like what it’s throwing at me.

            I let out a breath of nervousness as I wrote my number on his perfectly toned hand. Can hands even be toned? Well, they are now. Harry Styles just invented toned hands. Using his toned hand, after I finished writing on it, he pulled his phone out his back pocket. I gave him mine, but then my eyes widened at my case and lock screen. Harry didn’t seem to mind as he gave me a cheeky smirk after seeing the case. My lock screen was a picture of them from X-Factor, when they were formed and they’re doing their group hug.

            “Those were the days,” Harry smiled at it, then swiped his finger to unlock my phone. “Password?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow and holding my phone for me to type it in. I did so, not wanting to tell him that it was 2194. In other words, February 1, 1994. Yes, that’s his birthday, but it’s also mine. Still, I’ve embarrassed myself enough already, and I’m trying to contain my fangirl nerves.

            I had been too busy watching Harry’s long fingers type on my keyboard, but my hands were shaking like crazy and my heart was still racing. Harry handed me back my phone and I realized I got as far as my first name. Before I could finish, though, a manager came and started tugging Harry’s arm. “Time to get ready for the show!” the man hollered.

            “Wait! Harry, you’re phone—“

            “Hang on to it for me!” Harry called, waving me off nonchalantly. “I need that number!” he added and my heart fluttered, my lips curling into a grin.

            Harry’s Styles’ phone is in my hands. Now I really know I’m dreaming. What celebrity would leave their damn phone with a fan they just met? I know One Direction isn’t exactly normal, but he’s probably got a zillion other celebrities in his contacts. No. I won’t snoop through his phone. I won’t go on his Twitter or Instagram and follow me. I don’t need him losing his trust that he clearly has in me. I knew the boy was amazing, but leaving me his phone? Just for my number? It’s already on his hand. Yeah, it could come off onstage, but how will he get his phone back.

            My eyes widened. He really plans on seeing me again. That thought alone was enough for a squeal to escape my lips as Stevie came over. “Valerie! Where were you? I got to meet four of the boys, but Harry disappeared and then time ran out! Why are you all the way over here in a corner?” she pestered.

            I then realized I was indeed, in a corner. I was away from the actual meet and greet, but then another totally fictional thought hit me. Harry walked over to me! He left the meet and greet to talk to me. What the hell is happening to the world? I like it!

            “Whose phone is that? And you just missed the boys, Valerie! Your idols and—“

            “Harry’s,” I said instantly, the fact that not meeting the other boys dawning on me. I wanted to meet them like hell, but Harry was a huge distraction.

            Stevie looked at me as if I just told her that her dog died. “A-Are you joking?” she asked quietly.

            “No! Why the hell would I lie about that? It was so crazy, I think I dreamt it. He came over and started being really flirty, and then he asked me for my damn number! So, I wrote it on his hand, but then he said he wanted it in his phone in case he got rubbed off while onstage. Makes sense, but then a manager pulled him away and he told me to hold onto his phone for him,” I said, all in one breath. “If you still don’t believe me, look at this,” I added, holding my newest contact up to her.

            A gasp escaped Stevie’s lips as her eyes got wide. “Holy actual fuck!” Stevie exclaimed. “Harry fucking Styles has a fucking crush on you!”

            “Stop cursing, you potty mouth,” I laughed, slapping her arm. “I can’t even breathe, though. I think I’m having a fangirl attack.”

            “Believe me, I would be too if that happened to me. Actually, I think I would drop dead,” Stevie said. “But the other four boys are extremely perfect, go figure, and I’m almost positive Niall winked at me.”

            “Probably did,” I chuckled. Stevie wasn’t as big of a fan as I was, but then again… Not many people were. I fell into the category of “dedicated” while she was more in the “fan” zone. There’s only a couple true dedicated directioners out there.  

            “Before we both jump off cliffs, we better get our seats,” she said. I nodded as I tucked Harry phone in my back pocket, still not believing anything that just happened.