Mᴇʟᴏᴅʏ
A week went by, and I didn't see Louis again. If it even was Louis.
But then I was walking on the streets again, really early in the morning.
I sat down on a bench, in a different park I didn't even know the name of, and looked up at the sky.
It must have been an hour before I noticed the guy on a bench a couple dozen feet away doing the same thing.
And indeed, it was him.
I couldn't help but watch him. He didn't have sunglasses on this time, which proved my guess that he was who I thought he was. He was just sitting, legs crossed, his chin in his palm and looking something in his other hand that I guessed was his phone.
After awhile of this, he took a second to glance up. And for some reason, he immediately looked at me.
I just stared back, not really knowing what to do.
Finally, he flashed me a small smile. But once again, it was missing something. It wasn't a real smile.
What he did next surprised me, scared the crap out of me, and made me think hard all at the same time. He got up and walked over, and sat right down next to me. Our shoulders were separated by not even two inches.
"You're up early, aren't you?"
"I could say the same for you, Mr..." I paused, pretending I didn't know who he was.
He shook his head, "Tomlinson." He said, "Louis Tomlinson."
"Pleasure." I tried not to stutter.
"I never got your name, you know."
"I remember..." I replied simply.
He grunted. "So you don't want to tell me. You know, that makes someone even more curious, miss."
I snorted at that.
"If you don't tell me your name, I'm going to have to make one up." He added.
I knit my eyebrows. "Mel..." I paused. Should I tell him my real name? No. "Melissa." I lied.
"That's a pretty name."
"Yeah, but it's not mine..." I said. Why'd I say that?
"Then why did you just...?" He chuckled.
"Because I don't want to tell you my real name..."
"I'll get you to crack soon enough..." He muttered.
I didn't reply. We sat there kind of awkwardly before he finally asked, "Can you at least tell me about yourself?"
I shook my head.
"Why not?"
"Because you don't care..." I muttered, "You're Louis freaking Tomlinson. Your life is perfect. What do you care about a girl who..." I didn't finish, suddenly regretting saying anything.
He didn't notice. "My life isn't really perfect." He sighed, "I'm just a normal guy."
"With heaps of money..." I said under my breath.
He threw his head back and laughed. "Wouldn't it be nice if the money didn't come with fame? Fame sucks, Melissa."
"It's better than nothing..." I said, not a trace of a smile on my face.
"You mean-?" He started to say.
"No." I said quickly, feeling my hands getting sweaty.
He was silent for a good three minutes or so after that. I got the idea he was probably waiting for me to say something. Finally, I did. "Okay, honestly here, I don't have a job. I went to college and I had a job as a makeup artist and my life was great until they replaced me. It all went downhill from there. My... boyfriend... left me because I was barely paying my rent, my parents aren't talking to me or helping, and I'm... sort of living in a dumpy apartment..."
I didn't know why I felt the need to tell this guy all of this. Here he was, sitting next to me, a guy I barely knew. And I was pouring my life story out of my mouth.
Once again, silence filled the minutes in between until he said a simple, "Oh."
"Yeah..." I looked at my hands.
"Well... um... actually," Louis began, pausing for a second before continuing, "The band is in need of a makeup artist, to be honest..."
I stiffened, and stared at him. "You're... you're kidding."
"No, I'm not. Our old one, Ruth, left for a new job. We've been looking for one for a couple weeks."
I stared, "Um... I don't know if I can..."
"Come on, please? I know you need this."
"I can't..." I didn't want to just accept this job from him. Sure, I needed it, but I felt like I was cheating or something.
"At least... how about just for a week? If you still don't want to after that, we'll pay you for the week and you can leave."
I paused. Why not? Like he said, I could just try it and if I decided I didn't want to, I could leave. And I would get money either way. He was right when he said I needed the money.
I ignored the bad feeling in the pit of my stomach and tried to stop my voice from wavering. "Okay."
And then he smiled.
And it was a real one.
"Now you have to tell me your name."
"But..."
"No name, no job." He persisted.
I almost got up and walked away right there. Who cared about the job? But then I realized, I do care about this job. It might turn my life around.
"M-my name?" I paused again. It's now or never. "Melody."

Notes

Huehuehuehue.
~MM