Chapter Six: ~Little White Lies~

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If this room was burning, I wouldn't even notice...

*****

Lea.

This is beyond embarrassing; this is absolutely mortifying in every possible level and I don't know how is it that I'm still standing in this room, let alone right in front of her.

Lea.

She's staring at me, which is a radical change of pace, since she has been actively avoiding eye contact with me up until now. But it doesn't feel like I remember it did. There's nothing warm or heart-fluttering about her gaze. It feels cold, judgmental even. Because I get the feeling, due to the way her narrowed blue eyes are settled on me without a flinch, that she is not holding the best opinion of me right now.

Lea.

Who the hell is Olivia, then? She's definitely someone who works at this hotel. That's a given, since I got a text from Eli telling me that the note had been successfully delivered, straight to its rightful recipient's hand.

Well, at least that's what he thought. And what I thought.

But her name was Olivia, I was sure of it. I know that's the name I read on her jacket earlier, though now she's wearing a different name tag with the word Lea written on it, and she was introduced to all of us as such.

I am freaking out inside my head. Thinking about what the real Olivia must have thought of me when she got that letter. I don't know who she is; I have never laid eyes on her in my life, and yet she receives a message from me saying that I need to meet her tonight? Of course, in the context of knowing the sender of such a note beforehand, it doesn't really sound so blunt and inadequate. But from someone you have never met before?

Yeah, whoever she is, she's probably thinking that I am self-entitled jerk that sends his security guard to fetch him whatever girl he feels attracted to. Classy. So bloody rock and roll.

Lea.

Does she know about the letter?  Of course she does. That's the only possible explanation for the way she keeps looking at me. And all I can do is pretend not to be crawling out of my skin under the unbearable weight of her stare, as I keep praying for this thing to come to its end so I can try to explain myself to her.

"Alright, then! Does anybody have any questions?" 

I feel a dull, fleeting pain under my ribs, and I jolt out of my racing thoughts. Turning my head to the side, I see Niall standing beside me and giving me the eye. His eyebrows are arched into an unspoken question, and I know that he was just trying to bring me down to earth with a nudge of his elbow.

"No... I think we got it" I lie, obviously. I haven't heard a single word that has been spoken inside this room over the last, according to my watch, twenty minutes. 

Looking around the room, I see everyone is nodding along to my answer, smiling politely and stating that they've all understood everything, so I tell myself that I will have to ask the lads to fill me in the conversation later; probably excusing myself by saying that I had one of my well known episodes of dozing off.

"I do have a question, though" Of course, he has a question. He always does. And I just hope that, for once in his life, he won't be cracking up a joke, "Do you guys know each other?" Niall asks, unfolding his crossed arms, and pointing his finger at me first and then at her.

I never understood, until now, what people meant whenever they would describe an awkward or frightening situation by saying that is as if the room had been drained from the air inside of it. And I know that it is impossible for that to actually happen, but my lungs are definitely getting that impression.

Is it getting hotter in here, as well? Now I can't breathe, and I am starting to break up a sweat. I have to strangle this lad as soon as I regain full control of my body. Though I don't think that's going to happen any time soon.

I think I'm trying to say something, open my mouth and let out the slightest sound that would prove to me that I am not having a stroke or something like that. But my throat has gone painfully dry, and my tongue feels like sandpaper against the roof of my mouth.

She seems flustered, too. Standing there, in front of me but at the other side of the room. Eyes no longer narrowed or looking at me, but wide open and darting frantically from one face to the next. But she is not as frozen as I seem to be, as she begins to shake her head and quickly cross her arms under her chest, only to let them fall to her sides half a second later.

"No, I don't believe we do..." she says with a trembling, uneasy voice, briefly giving me a pleading look.

And in that moment, just like that, she is acknowledging me for the first time since we found ourselves in each other's presence. With that quick glare, she is telling me that she remembers me. She is recognizing me as something other than the guy that's staying at this hotel; she's seeing me as what I have been trying to get her to see me all along; the best man at his mother's wedding.

And I love it as much as I appreciate it. Because it seems to pull me out of my stupefaction, suddenly propelled by this strong urge to get her out of the spot.

"We don't, Niall..." I reaffirm her response, surprised by how steady my voice seems to be flowing out. A little more strained and hoarse than usual, maybe, but nothing too suspicious. I guess.

"Are you sure about that? I'm only asking because you keep staring at each other like it's a contest, and she seems ready to rip your head off" he says in a chuckle while the rest of the people who are not involved in this conversation are just looking at us, listening.

Louis is just cackling under his breath, amused by Niall's grilling all over me, and probably aware that I'm lying or that I'm definitely keeping something to myself. But Liam, just like the last couple of days, doesn't seem to be really here. He's smiling and somewhat paying attention to his surroundings, but his mind can be miles away within the next ten seconds.

Mike and Randall, our head of security and tour manager respectively, are looking at me with a bit of a scowl, most likely wondering if this is one of those things that could get us into what they so dramatically like to call a publicity problem, and the woman who has been doing all the talking, but whose name I really can't recall, is fretfully tapping her foot against the floor, and looking at Lea quite confused.

"Positive" I say, fighting the reflex of rearranging my hair, so it is not interpreted and a sign of nervousness, "Could you ever forget someone like her, if you'd met her before?"

Points to me for being so smooth, right? I quickly look in her direction, long enough to see the trace of a coy smile playing in her lips as her cheeks begin to brighten up into a soft shade of pink.

My hand lands loudly on Niall's shoulder, patting on it a few times before I finally squeeze it tight between my fingers.

My eyes give him a give it up look, and I crook a smile at him when he finally nods in compliance.

"No. I don't believe that I could" he eventually answers. And the issue is finally settled.

"Okay..." The woman breaks the silence that's been surrounding us for half a minute, already, "If that's all, I will need to have a few words with Lea alone so we can discuss the final details"

Like I said before, I never paid any attention to what she said during this meeting, so I don't know if that is her usual tone of voice or if she's upset about something, but as I walk away from the room, followed by the rest of the lads, I can't help but to lift my eyes when I walk besides Lea.

I find her looking at me as well. And with the greatest subtlety I can pull of, I give her a small wink of the eye. Our secret is safe. And I really need to talk to her as soon as possible.

But first, I have to find that Olivia girl, and let her kow that an awful mistake has been made.

I will profusely apologize to her until she undestands that I am not a creep.

Then, I have to meticulously plan the murder of one Niall James Horan.

But not necessarily in that particular order.

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