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We where being followed by the vapid paparazzi and their obtuse cameras they carried around to show purpose. What purpose would that transpire? The purpose of pea-brained idiots, who thought ruining other people's lives led to more money. Have a heart..
"Why is he doing this?" I ask Noelle for the hundredth time as she gives her dad a nasty glare.
"I already told you. He wants attention. That's just how my dad is," she pulls out her phone and plugs in very vibrant headphones, turning on a One Direction song.
"Oh you," I giggle, taking one of the plugs from her and sticking it in my ears, "You mustn't listen to my song without me."
It was the song Summer Love, a song that truly meant something to me although it meant more to Louis. I remember him gushing to me one day about this girl. She was kinder than any girl he had been with before. He was very sad having to leave her presence that summer afternoon. But when I bring her up, he shrugs and makes a consuming expression.
"You where mine for the summer, now we know it's nearly over," I sing along with Noelle and smile, "Feels like snow in September, but I always will remember," I stop to listen to her beautiful voice.
"You where my— summer love, you always will be my—summer love.." she blushes in embarrassment, playfully slapping my shoulder.
"Are you two dating or something?" her dad turns his head, and sees us tickling each other.
"Oh no, nothing like that," I assure, but every time I'd say something like that Noelle would seem sad. "Noe, want to come back to my hotel and hangout?"
"I'd love to."
She noticed her dad smile for once. If anything had to do with her ever, he'd make some gnarly, unaccepted facial expression. It made her somewhat happy seeing that tiny shimmer of light.
We reach the hotel, he somehow knew where I was staying without me even telling him. "See you soon, have fun," he gave us a wink as we strutted out of the limo.
"I appreciate it sir."
God dammit. As expected the paparazzi neglected their camera abilities by smothering us both. "Wear these," I hand Noelle sunglasses as we walk into the building with our heads down.
"Harry, when are the boys getting back together?" one bearded guy asks.
"Harry, are you and this mystery girl dating? Is she your new Taylor Swift," for some reason, a load of anger flooded my nerves, and I couldn't help but lash out.
