Freak Show Girl
Sorry Styles
The street was packed, bodies moving every where. Women roaming on all sides, but she was no where in sight. The paparazzi must have gotten some great shots since I stood there for what felt like a lifetime. Walking back to my car I kept an eye on the streets.
Where could she have gone?
The drive was spent on thinking only of that strange girl.
"What’s got you spacing out?" Louis asked. I hadn’t even realized I was siting in the restaurant.
When did I even get here?
"I met a girl."
"Doesn’t that happen everyday?" Niall chuckled.
"This one was different."
"How?"
"She disappeared"
"No one just ‘disappears’." Liam spoke up.
"She’s imaginary," I heard Zayn whisper to Liam. Why am I even telling them this? It’s obvious they think I’ve gone insane.
"Humor me here?" I sighed
"Alright, tell us about her." louis chuckled as our food arrived.
"She was possibly 5’ 5"."
"How do you know?" Niall interrupted.
"The top of her head hit the top of my shoulder, it’s just a rough guess."
"Niall shut up and let the daydreamer finish," Zayn added.
"Anyway, half of her hair on one side was black and the other side was blonde."
"Rocker chick fantasy," Zayn whispered to louis.
"Anything else?" Liam asked ignoring Zayn.
"Other than the fact that she has green eyes, nothing."
"That’s a lot of help," Liam commented.
"Told you she’s imaginary," Zayn whispered again.
"You’ll forget about her soon enough." Niall said before the conversation died.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There she was, standing in an outfit that screamed ‘tease’. A black and white pinstriped tank tucked into pitch black high waisted shorts. Plain suspenders hitting the back of her perfectly toned legs. Ankle boot heels giving her enough height to look directly into my wandering eyes.
She smirked as I took a step toward her, my hand reaching out for her waist. The victory of having her so close cut short as my body hit glass.
It’s a maze.
"Sorry Styles," was all she said before she was weaving her way behind glass mirrors. I don’t think my body has moved as fast since I got lost in the Milan airport. Every time I thought I was close enough to grab her hand I hit another mirror.
"Wait!" I yelled after her. As soon as the word slipped from my lips the only person I saw in the maze was myself.
"Sorry Styles." Her sultry voice hit off every mirror, echoing a thousand times. I sunk to the floor, my reflection looking more defeated than ever. In every direction my image was the same until I noticed one that was smirking back at me. The image was terrifying, the reflection that should show my suffering only displayed wicked amusement.
"Sorry Styles," my voice hit my ears, but it wasn’t me speaking. The reflection winked at me before the mirror cracked down the middle. The haunting words echoing as every mirror around me shattered into fragments.
