upside down - jack johnson

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three years ago

I watched him walk on stage slowly. His hair was groomed well, and he seemed to look as posh as he could get. His gaze fell on me and we locked eyes, although I was not sure if it really was me he was staring at or some other person near me. Either way, I kept my eyes secured on him.

They fixed themselves in position on the short black stage right in front of the big screen, their backs straight and their chins up. They looked like they tried their best to look elegant, but at the same time casual, and they all carried it very well.

The five stood with big grins on their faces as they watched the crowd applaud and cheer for them, a few standing up with proud expressions. It took a while for everyone to calm down, and when they did, Liam cleared his throat and leaned towards the microphone placed in front of them.

"Thank you for coming out tonight to watch the premier of our movie. We’d like to thank everyone who has supported us; this is for you." Liam addressed the crowd with a genuine smile.

"To each of you who has touched our lives, we thank you for inspiring us every day to work harder and better." Niall said.

"You all inspired us in different ways, and we wouldn’t be here without all of you." Zayn added with a bright smile.

"We don’t know how else to thank you, so we dedicate this to all of you and we hope you enjoy." Louis stated.

Harry took his eyes off me and looked at the crowd. “But more importantly, we hope you see how thankful we truly are for all of your continuous support and love. We strive every day to serve as an inspiration to other people, like all of you, and be as inspiring as you are to us. Thank you.”

The five stepped off the stage quickly after another round of applause and the lights started to dim. They sat on their respective seats on the same row as mine, quite making a fuss on who sits beside who.

I rubbed my hands against each other, feeling a shiver run down my spine. The moment I stepped in the theater earlier, I immediately regret wearing my dress. I watched the opening credits on the screen and almost jumped in surprise at the sudden sound of his deep voice.

"You cold, love?" His voice was a whisper, barely even audible, and I could feel his hot breath on my neck.

I nodded stiffly, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” I breathed out.

I felt his hand on my bare shoulder and he tugged on it softly. “Come on,”

He obviously won’t take no for an answer, and seeing that he was crouching beside me, he was blocking the view of the people behind us, so I quickly stood up and followed him. We briskly walked through the row, receiving confused glances from people and smirks from the four remaining One Direction members themselves. I couldn’t help but look at them in confusion, since none of them—including Harry—ever acknowledged my presence until then.

We walked out of the theater successfully with Harry’s hand still wrapped around my arm as we walked to the lobby. I felt warmth collide with my cold skin and I let out a shaky breath. The movie theater’s lobby was furnished with loveseats in the middle of the corridor and a blue-carpeted floor.

"I’m surprised you’re seated at the front row, Ms. Keats."

I scoffed a little and watched him tiptoe to see if there was anyone else in the lobby. “I’m surprised you’re talking to me, Mr. Styles.”

He shrugged, looking around. “You look outstanding today.”

"Funny how you’re saying that without even looking at me." I uttered, unwrapping his fingers from my forearm.

He turned around swiftly, his hair whipping with his face. His eyes locked with mine and seriousness was evident in his eyes, although a smirk appeared on his lips. “Trust me, love, I’ve been looking at you all night.”

We had a staring contest for a while; our eyes locked and we held onto each other’s gaze, but I eventually cleared my throat, figuring out that he won’t be breaking his stare any sooner.

"So, why’d you bring me out here?" I avoided eye contact, looking at the lobby doors.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him shrug. “You said you were cold, and it’s not cold out here.”

"Still cold, actually," I said facing him.

He raised his eyebrow at me, his lips twitching into a smile as his dimples start to show. “You just want my jacket,”

I smiled, letting out a one-syllable laugh. “Yeah, I’m just using the coldness as an excuse to get your jacket.”

“Is that why you wore that dress?” He eyed my outfit, and for some reason, I didn’t mind. I wore a black tube skater dress with my dirty blonde locks up in a messy bun.

“I will do anything to get that jacket of yours.” I tilted my head to the side, smiling up at him with a playful expression.

He chuckled and shook his head, clearing his throat. “Have you been to the photo booth yet?”

"No, not really. I passed by it earlier but-"

Before I could even finish my sentence, Harry had his hand back on my arm again and dragged me out of the lobby and to the red carpet outside.

The cold night air hit me and I was surprised by the amount of paparazzi that emerged from the corners of the street. The camera flashes were blinding and I couldn’t help but squint my eyes from the lights.

Harry released his grip from my arm and quickly wrapped it around my shoulders, pulling me close to him. He shielded the lights from my eyes with his hands, quickly leading the way to the photo booth vending machine.

It wasn’t far from where we came from, but with all of the paparazzi questioning us, it appeared to be a long way. We both tried to quickly walk, avoiding all questions directed towards us, but with all the camera flashes, it was a struggle. We eventually reached the photo booth, both of us sighing in relief.

He opened the curtain for me and stepped aside, allowing me to enter first. He came in as soon as I sat down and closed the red cloth right away.

"They’re extra annoying at night." He muttered under his breath. He let out a breath and looked at me with a beaming smile. "So, what’s up?"

"A little surprised considering that we never met and now we’re in a photo booth together." I raised my eyebrows at him.

The photo booth was big enough to fit two people, but it still made it hard for me to breathe. The walls were white, and a red cloth hid us from the outside world. A screen was fastened eyelevel in front of us with our reflections on it, and a small box stayed right below; probably the camera.

He chuckled lightly and extended his hand out. “I’m Harry,”

I took his hand, shaking it firmly. His hand enfolded mine and he held it a little longer than a personal would normally do in the occasion of a handshake. I smiled to him, showing off my own dimples, and said, “I’m Paige, nice to meet you, Harry.”

"It’s a pleasure to finally meet you." He smiled. "You came here alone, right? I wouldn’t want to be stealing you from someone."

I nodded. “Yes, I didn’t bother bringing a date.”

"We should change that, huh?" He spoke smoothly, the words carelessly rolling off his tongue.
His posture showed confidence while his eyes showed interest.

"For an attractive guy like you, you really suck at pick up lines." I choked a laugh.

"You find me attractive?" He elevated his eyebrows, showing an expression of surprise. His green
eyes sparkled even without any light shining down on him it was crazy.

"Compared to your talent of picking up girls, yeah," I gave him a teasing smile. "Is attractiveness all you got?"

He faked a hurt expression, putting his hand on his chest for added effect. “Yeah, but hey, it’s double the good looks if I have you. What do you say?”

“No, thanks,” I scrunched my nose. “I’m afraid you might look less attractive next to me.”

He laughed this time, exhibiting his dimples. “Well, I’ll admit, you can be that attractive at times.”

“At times?” I repeated, giving him a glare.

“Hey, there’s still that incident during the VMAs where you tripped.” He pointed at me in addition to prove his point.

“At least I fell attractively.” I said, laughing towards the end of my sentence. He laughed along, knitting his eyebrows at me in confusion.

"But attractiveness isn’t all I got," Harry defended himself, not letting go of the topic.

"Prove it." I played along, raising my eyebrow.

He stopped for a moment and looked up, as if thinking of an answer. To add to the drama, he put his index finger on his chin, tapping on it. He raised it, and with a bright expression, he announced, “I can sing.”

I giggled. “That’s a given.”

"It makes me more attractive, admit it." He joked, bumping his shoulder to mine. His hair bobbed with his body.

"If I say yes, will you let go of it already?" I said.

"No!”
I groaned, leaning my head against the photo booth’s wall. I have never felt this comfortable with a person who I just met the same day. Whenever I meet someone, normally I’m the one who shows more effort in the conversation while the person I am talking to just stares at me. Sometimes, I wouldn’t mind, since I loved to talk, but usually, I take my time to actually know someone before staying inside a photo booth vending machine with him or her and talking about our attractiveness.

After a moment of silence between us, he started shuffling in his seat. He chuckled when I have him a puzzled look and reached out for the red button in front of us with the white letters ‘take photo’ painted on it. “Let’s take a photo so you’d see how attractive we’d look together, yeah?”

I laughed and to my surprise, a flash went off right away. The second photo was taken two seconds after, which was both Harry and I smiling. The third, Harry was caught talking and I was laughing at him, and for the last one, we did the most unappealing face we could do with our face.

"I’m keeping the photo!" Harry shouted the moment the fourth flash went off. He grabbed the photo and we both looked at it, our heads pressed against each other to see a better view of the piece of paper.

I pointed at his face on the last photo, stopping myself from laughing. “Very attractive,”

“I try,” he said. He swiftly got the piece of photo paper from my fingers and put in the breast pocket of his suit. “So, while we’re here with no one bothering to check on us, can I get to know you more?”

“This is escalating really quickly.” I raised my eyebrows, “but I guess it’s fine.”

He grinned in satisfaction. “I don’t want any bullshit about how many siblings you have and your background story and who your parents are and what they did as a living and your favorite colour and what kind of music you’re into-“

“Is ‘favorite member of One Direction’ part of that list?” I cut him off, amused.

“Yes,” he raised a warning eyebrow at me. “No tired questions of interviewers; the last thing I want right now is another interview.”

“Tell me about it,” I rolled my eyes, sighing. “They all ask the same questions, I don’t understand why.”

Harry chuckled, his shoulders shaking with his head. “I want weird, unanswered questions fresh from the hat, inappropriate questions for interviews. No questions where I can find out the answer on the Internet—I’ll just stalk your Twitter, look for Tumblr blogs, YouTube videos, and search for your Wikipedia page.”

I laughed, feeling my cheeks ache from all the smiling. “It’s nice to know that you will be stalking me tonight.”

“So, let’s start?” He mocked an interviewer, straightening his back and bobbling his head. He even included the fake smile interviewers always wear before the talk, looking like they have better plans.

I grimaced. “You start.”

“Alright,” he smiled smugly. “What’s your number?”

That’s how we spent the rest of our night; talking about random facts concerning our personal lives like ‘boxers or briefs,’ favourite fast food restaurants, and the back-story of our name. I talked about my aunts and grandfathers like he knew who they were and how they looked like, and he talked about his childhood friends and family members like I was a childhood friend and family member as well.

At the beginning of the conversation, I would admit that it felt completely odd that we were asking such personal questions without even knowing basic information about each other, but I guess that’s the reason behind all of the laughter and smiles.

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Notes

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