Jane's POV

10 Months later

Mourning for someone feels as if a vacuum is swallowing all of your insides and any spec of joy you contain left out from your body. I was swallowed whole completely, just waiting to be thrown in the trash along with all the other torn up bodies. But after a few months, along with Katherine and my new job and new life in general, I've gotten better. I will never truly get over the death of my father, I mean who really truly does? But I'm better. I am, and it feels kind of good knowing that I can actually smile now, the man that is no longer wearing red but white watching over me.

I remember watching the burial of my father and just feeling this overall anger towards myself, humanity, and even God. The helpers in my home when I was a child were very religious old women who would always take me into prayer with them and even assist me in reading scriptures from the Bible. They told me that God has made man, knowing already what his destiny is and his relevance to this world.

But was my father born just to die? Why did this good man have to perish, while all these other sinister people remain walking and breathing amongst us? I was lost, vultures always standing around me and waiting for me to finally give up so they could eat my remaining flesh. But the thing was that I was already dead so I was confused why I was still alive.
Rose little by little forgave me as I continued visiting her. Mrs. Jones became pregnant again, a baby girl who she is planning to name Grace and Rose is just very excited. She kept on telling me how she already plans to take care of her younger sister, even though they aren't related by blood, she already thinks of her in that way and I just respect how welcoming she is. Not many people are like that and they should really try to be since this now eleven year old girl can so easily do so.

Rose's bruises and cuts began healing and are now almost completely gone. She has a scar on the top of her right eyebrow from one of those evil caregivers that have now been arrested due to my complaints and the proof of this little angel's body. She confessed everything to me I recall on a wednesday afternoon. We were playing with her new doll that Mr. Jones bought her from Peru when he went on a business trip and she just began telling me unexpectedly as she just brushed her thumb over one of the button eyes that was being held loosely by thin orange thread.

It's as if she was staring at her own childhood and realizing how she feels as if she's no longer a child due to her experiences. And that to me is sad, since again, she is only eleven years old.

I would take her to get ice cream or even to that new bounce house place along with Roger, since I have more money now I am able to do that, and even though she enjoyed it, she wouldn't really laugh uncontrollably and smile widely like the other children surrounding her. She would just play with Roger, making sure he wouldn't injure himself.

She has been through a lot and I swore to her as well as myself that I will help her for the tough road ahead of her.

Aiden got arrested, pleading guilty for my father's death and even confessed all of his father's crimes as well, leading to his arrest as well. Aiden was easy to catch since he practically gave himself in, but his father... well it was a full on manhunt for weeks until they finally caught him dealing drugs to some guys in Cuba. They got arrested too I'm guessing.
I've talked to Angie, seeing how she's been since it must be hard for her to have to deal with all of the drama in her own family, but she's told me countless times that she's fine. She finally filed for divorce and is now living in a home near the prison so she could easily visit Aiden as much as she can.

That family has a lot of things to work out, and I'm just hoping that maybe Aiden will change his ways for good since I truly did believe he was a good person and still believe that he still holds a little of that goodness deep within him.

The first weeks of my 'depression' as people call it, was really spent at either Kats or Mrs. Jones'. I would just stare at the wall, trying to see if I could maybe turn back time somehow if I just thought about it really hard. It of course didn't work and actually just added even more horror to my constant nightmares and overall madness all together. The nightmares, well my father was of course in them, but instead of him being in his usual attire that consisted of that dreadful and terrifying red cloak, he was in that white button down shirt he used to wear all the time when I was a kid.

His arms were open to me in these hallucinations of mine. He was finally welcoming me back, but as I walked closer to him I felt myself beginning to laugh...cynically. He began stepping backwards, repeating my name over again and when my fist would collide with that giant mirror beside him, the glass would shatter and I would just stare at myself through the jumbled reflections.

I was now the one wearing the red cloak. I was the victim now trying to be the victor and I have never wanted to lose more in my life. I would always wake up screaming before I could finally do anything to him with one of the sharp glass pieces that have fallen.

Katherine would always come as fast as she could, holding me in her arms and rocking me back and forth. She sang this lullaby she used to sing to Carly when she was younger and it would help me forget for a while, the soft tone and reassuring innocent lyrics cleansing the iniquity I now have picked up temporarily. Temporarily.

I began just crying out louder when I realized that I would just wake up screaming his name. Harry's.

I didn't think that would be the last time I would ever see him, or maybe I did but I was just too distracted by my own selfish feelings to acknowledge it. But one night after yet another nightmare, I awoke but bit my lip to conceal my words and to allow Kat a good night sleep for once. So instead, I just cried. I cried silently, the sound of my sobs echoing in my head instead of throughout the house. And that's when the realization of his absence really kicked in.

I began distancing myself from people, even Rose for a while. I wrote her a letter, just explaining that I needed to kind of find myself I guess for a while, and that I might hurt others in the process if they are involved, so I don't want to put her through that. She already had enough to worry about anyway.

While Kat was at the shelter, I would just walk.

I would walk down to the corner of a street, just seeing how all the cars would just pass by so fast in almost a blur. Colors would just illuminate from the vehicles and it just kind of reminded me of how life really just goes on for each person. You may have a real good moment one day, but then the next you forget about the good and just focus on the bad, all the positivity becoming a blur. A colorful blur.

My feet then led me to a small pond near the farming area of the town, then to an empty dock that would be taken over by hopeful fishermen and their son's on the weekend causing the area to smell of salt and seaweed, to the park where I sat on his bench, well my bench but he took over it so I guess it became his bench like how everything I own becomes his when he just simply touches it, and the graffiti walls he took me to. Now that...that is where my life really changed.

I strolled around, my fingertips tracing each slightly faded line and outline. My fingers were dancing upon this neverending artwork that reminded me how to breathe for a second, the thoughts and memories of happy things like hot chocolate in winter and the different shades of reds and purples in sunrises returning to me.
The stars were out that day, the paint seeming to be a darker shade of color than it really is.
Like a mindless fool I called his name, imagining as if he were here with me to enjoy this enchanting graffiti under the moonlight. But he wasn't. No one was. Well atleast that's what I thought...

I heard the sound of a spray bottle, already knowing what it most likely was. I mean a spray bottle in a place with walls covered in graffiti...

I glanced at them, not wanting to make a noise or even a peep. They were spraying on a wall I could not decipher, pieces of cardboard in one hand and the can of spray paint in the other.
They were wearing a hoodie, hiding their identity completely. They resembled a shadow in disguise and my voice was a hidden ghost, seeming as if it were alive but actually nonexistent or at least nonexistent to everyone other than myself since it remained locked in my mind, away from reality. I was afraid to speak, but wanted so badly to since I saw how they were painting over the artwork of Einstein holding the sign. Harry's favorite wall.
"I'm just retouching it. Calm your self." The mysterious stranger spoke, revealing itself to be a female and a young one at that.

I didn't move, but instead just continued observing, beginning to question myself whether or not everything I was witnessing was all just another nightmare that would later involve me in that red cloak.

But as I continued, the woman ignored me, having some trouble as everything was beginning to fall from her hands. I quickly ran to her, assisting her in grabbing all of the fallen items.
She just nodded and I nodded back.

"Why ya here?" She questioned as she placed one of the cardboard pieces over the artwork, spraying again over it before revealing a better quality paint job.

I shrugged at her question.

"Like art." I simply responded.

She just nodded her head again before finishing off and looking over at me, her long dark blue hair falling over her face.

"You come everyday?" She asks another question.

I shrug again, causing her to laugh.

"Not much of a talker are ya? Well if you do happen to come by tomorrow, I abid you an adoo for now, but if you won't return, then thanks for helping and so long stranger."
I just shrugged again before she laughed this lively laugh and finally left, leaving behind a spray paint can. I was going to return it to her, but I couldn't just help but stare at the labeling. It was green. Green. My favorite color.

I just gripped the can tighter before strolling myself back to Kats, hoping my sudden disappearance didn't awaken her.

I ended up returning the next night and the night after that, and the night after that, and so on and so forth. The same girl who I later found out to be a world renowned graffiti artist named Spec at first didn't really converse with me. She usually would just ask me to hold one of the cardboard cut outs for her while she sprayed the color paint and we would just remain there in silence, the only sound evident being the droplets of colored liquid being released from the tin bottle.

She would never tell me her real name until later since she is supposed to be this mysterious artist that is silent yet so loud through her actions.

She began taking a liking to me I guess since she kept on telling me to visit her in a certain place each night to continue in assisting her in repainting or painting a new piece on some blank wall.

That's when we began talking, or at least she did since she began explaining how each cardboard cutout has the outline of the drawing so it makes it easier for her to paint, like a stencil.

More people began showing up along with her. Them with their own hoodies to cover their identity, and bringing along their own stencils.

Sometimes police sirens would appear, and my adrenaline would pump through my body,
along with my heart. The excitement and adventure was exhilarating like a high free fall jump and I began craving it more and more, wanting to take everything to the more extreme.
Everything was going good for me. Well maybe not good, but better. This new underground world helped me forget or at least put aside all of my own devouring thoughts. A smile appeared on my face and even Katherine began to notice my much cheerier mood. If only she knew back then. She most likely would've stopped me, but I probably would've rebelled since I finally had something that was mine and I would risk my own life to keep it that way.

As the nights began seeming shorter and as the walls and billboards of this town have been becoming covered, less and less space available, I began staying there longer. One day I stayed until sunrise, and I don't think I've ever seen such a beautiful sight that day. The sky seemed new and covered with all of this paint. This new shade of purple appeared in the corners of the sky and I even felt my eyes water slightly at the thought and sight of that magnificent view. Maybe God is a painter, a creative outcast like all of us I thought.

I saw Spec's face for the first time that day. She was wearing bright blue contacts, two small hoop earrings on her bottom lip, and she had pale white skin. She resembled a doll in a way, and I've never seen anyone like her, but I guess that just adds to her uniqueness.
One of her friends or colleagues, I don't know their relationship with one another, began staring at me, as if they recognized my face and I felt uncomfortable yet curious.
It was a chubby looking man who looked to be in his early thirties and he automatically poked another artist named fathom, whispering in her ear, both of their eyes turning to me.
That was the longest Spec and I have ever done this, and by the nod of her head and her slight smile, I knew that we were some what friends.

"Do ya like art?" She asked me, her friends still muttering behind her.

I nodded and she nodded back.

"You know. I can show you how to do these things. To make your own stencil and paint." She added, her own request surprising me as well as her as they left her lips.

"Like an apprentice?"

I wasn't really a talker anymore. I only usually spoke to Rose and Kath and that was about it, so it even seemed a little foreign to me to hear my own voice after such a long time.

She nodded again.

"Yeah. Like an apprentice."

She smiled and then I smiled before she told me where to meet her the next day in the afternoon. We were actually going to meet each other in broad daylight and I knew that things were going to begin turning whether for the good or for the bad.

Kat was mad at me of course, the police swarming her apartment since she thought something had happened to me, but I knew she wouldn't approve of what I have been doing, so I just told her that I went to go visit my father. And that wasn't a lie really. I always visit my father, but I just hid the other part of my day. And Katherine as well as myself never expected what was to come from it.

The next afternoon, I followed the directions that led me to an old and dirty apartment looking building. Sloppy graffitied words were all over the walls, but I know they weren't done by Spec, Fathom, or any other of those creative geniuses, but by some punk kids who had nothing better to do.

Cats equally as dirty as the building were surrounding it, and the smell of sewer water swarmed the air like a disgusting tear gas.

I didn't really know what to expect when I knocked on her door, but when she finally opened it, she welcomed me with a smile and words that left me breathless.

"Hello Jane Weck."

I gulped, not knowing what to do since I have never mentioned my name to her before and was never planning to in that matter. I didn't want to be known really. I kind of wanted to be a ghost in a way to them. I didn't really want Jane to exist, but to be more of a figment of their imagination. I know it's confusing, but I guess I'm also losing my skill of explanation like my sanity.

Her friends were sitting on a broken down and overly used purple couch, a laptop on Fathom's lap with a bunch of cardboard, canvas', and other art supplies surrounding them.
They were dressed casually, no hoodie in sight, and I could see them all more clearly.
I just stood there, waiting for the lesson I guess you can say to start, and after about fifteen minutes of all of them staring at me, they all did.

Spec, who I found out that day to be really named Wilma Carter, showed me all of her stencils and how she creates them. She showed me how to just make an outline with pencil over the brown torn up box of what I want, and to not cut up the parts that I want to be the shadowing. It was quite complicated at first to understand, but as she showed me, I began nodding my head and replying,

"I understand."

I brought along my sketchbook so I could maybe make my own stencil based on one of my sketches, and when Spec glanced over at some of my drawings, her eyebrows rose in slight shock. She called over the others and the next thing I knew, they were commenting on each drawing. Specs favorite was the one of the girl with two heads, while the others preferred the ones of the squirrels for some reason.

She explained to me how she thought I was just some art obsessed introverted person who really couldn't do anything and that she felt bad for me in a way, but that she was wrong and that I actually had great potential. I was sort of insulted but felt more complimented than anything as she continued pointing to my work and discussing her ideas of what I can do,
who I can be.

She said that she could teach me how to spray paint in an advanced way like her, and maybe I could end up joining them. That maybe I would have to find someone to hold up my own stencil for me one day.

She loved how I really only drew in green color pencil and said that could be my signature, what will make everyone know 'who painted this' or 'who thought up this idea'.

I was shaking, trembling even since everything felt as if it were moving too fast and I couldn't quite breathe. I nodded quickly and wanted so badly to start soon since I've missed art, I've missed drawing in general, and just have missed Jane Anderson. I don't want to be Jane Weck anymore. Nor shall I ever want to be again.

Her smile soon faded when her eyes met the back cover, reading something over and over again. It was the phone number to that art lady Harry got to notice me.

"She's one of the greatest painters in the world." Wilma said, not Spec because Spec is almost too confident to be even human and right then, she was showing actual concern and even a little sadness for me.

I explained to her how someone picked that life for me, and that I rather make my own decisions for once, even if I didn't know where it would take me.

She grinned and chuckled a little.

"That Harry guy really cares for you." She whispered, and I then knew that that was how she knew my name. That's why they stared at me oddly. They knew some of my past, and the others may have pestered me about it later on, but she never brought it up to my attention again. WIlma and I had a strange friendship, but still a friendship none the less.

"Yeah." I simply responded. And I still cared for him too. I always will.
Day by day, night by night...I was working, advancing on my technique and as my skin began paling as I spent almost all my time either indoors or under the night sky, Katherine grew more worried, always turning off the TV and hiding magazines and or newspapers when she would see me.

I knew something was going on with Harry that she didn't want to tell me. I assumed that he found a new girl and made sure that I avoided everything myself since just the thought was nauseating me and beginning to cloud my happiness. But I was wrong. I was way off and when she woke me up one night, her eyes filled with worry and a handful of magazines in her hands, I knew something terrible had happened.

"I didn't want to bother you Jane. You know how I feel about that boy, how I knew that he was hurting you, but..." She began, not being able to finish her sentence as she just handed me the several magazines. Each one had headlines with his name within them, and I just felt my hand place itself on my lips as I shook my head.

"He's now hurting himself..." She added as I felt the very painful and to me acidic liquid leave my eyes, vanquishing me slowly.

'Harry Styles: The bad boy now turned emo.'

'Harry Styles' marked wrists? Is depression leading the pop star to stardom or to his razor blades?'

'Harry Styles fainting during performance in Tokyo due to sleep deprivation.'

I stopped myself from reading any further and felt Kat wrap her arms around me before grabbing a black small suede box from the pocket of her robe.

"His blonde friend wanted me to give this to you. He said that it was from Harry." She whispered, her wrinkly hand on my shoulder in reassurance as I opened it, revealing a silver ring band.

My insides clenched as I began analyzing it, noticing my name engraved in the inside.
I slipped it on the ring finger of my right hand, seeing how it was slightly larger, being able to slip off easily. This ring wasn't bought for me, but instead for Eli. He told me one day while we were in bed together about everything he'd been through with the charismatic brunette. This was the ring he was going to give her, and I know that the usual girl would want her own ring, thinking that he was just too lazy to buy me a new one.

But I'm not the usual girl and I know that handing me the ring meant for her, held a deep meaning to him.

He was finally ready to give himself to someone else and a part of me will forever be with him, even if it did get covered with the scratches that have now brought themselves forth.
I held the ring in my hand tight and glanced over at his Christmas gift that was still laying on Carly's wardrobe, untouched.

"What are you going to do?" Kat asked, obviously wanting to help as well since she did in fact like Harry a little, even though she didn't want to admit it.

"I'm going to give him his Christmas present." I replied, the moisture drying on my skin and my feet leading my body towards the phone.

I dialed the phone number in, my eyes staring at the ring in my hand as I began fiddling with it a little.

The phone answered.

"Louis, I need to know where you are."

He didn't question my sudden request or why I was even calling, since by his sigh, I knew he knew my intentions.

He told me how they were in Ecuador at the moment and gave me the address of SYCO's nearest building. He told me to just send him what I had to send through them and they would send someone to take it to Harry personally. I obliged and heard him take a deep breath.

"He really needs this." I remember he spoke, and I just took a deep breath myself before saying a goodbye and hanging up.

I informed Kat in what was happening and quickly grabbed the book, reading it fully one more time, before writing on the inside of the cover and placing it in a huge manilla colored envelope. I gave Kat the address info and she wrote all that was necessary on the envelope before sticking an american flag postage stamp on the top corner and promising to send it for me the next day.

I just nodded and returned back to my bed, closing my eyes and drifting myself back to slumber with the ring still in my hand.

"I promise." I whispered to myself, before finally zoning out and sleeping.
Weeks flew by, and Spec finally thought that I was ready to take my new 'education' into action. My first try being the two headed girl with green spray paint of course on a billboard advertising some republican government official running for governor. I actually picked the location, remembering how my father used to tell me how to never trust these business men.
How they were all two faced bigots, and I just thought it would fit.
Spec seemed to agree, since she shouted into the void that night.

"I ONLY SEE THROUGH MY EYES!" she yelled, her two hands cupping her mouth and a few birds flying away due to their fright as we both just stood there close to the railing, her arms spread out and mine to my sides.

I'm still unsure what she meant by that, but her remark kind of reminded me of The Great Gatsby and how that billboard with eyes always reminded Nick Carraway of God always watching. Maybe she's like Nick Carraway, except she's not a writer and isn't afraid of God obviously.

But then again, she always had that silver rosary around her neck. So maybe she is, but is just good at hiding it.

A few days later, an uproar arose. Police, the press, news reporters, and just almost every citizen of this boring old state was in search of the girl who had painted a message more powerful than words. Well that was what some newspaper said about me.

I guess it was a big deal to paint over the face of some corrupt leader since people began surrounding the area around the billboard, taking pictures of it and just admiring the detail.
Katherine had no idea who it was and neither did even Rose. I felt like a shadow, being apart of the night yet in the day just belonging to another average body.

I didn't at first like the attention since all I really wanted was to just paint, but Spec kind of convinced me otherwise. She told me that I'm starting a revolution. Good is finally going to go against bad and un mask the demon that his been lurking behind the scenes of each horror scene and I was the hero with the gun.

Little by little, I began creating more and more. My feelings now being expressed and sending this relief to me that I have never encountered in all of my existence. I feel as if I'm finally breathing again after a panic attack, one that has lasted for almost six years.
I bought my own hoodie, a dark red one with two medium sized front pockets and a giant hood in the back to cover as much as my hair as it can.

I became known as the modern day red riding hood, but instead of being eaten by the wolf, I'm the one devouring it and the wolf being society with all it's terrible howl and cruel intentions.

Some nights Spec would come along with me, spraying right beside me, but some times I would be on my own, trying to run from the cops and hiding myself in some dark alley from people trying to reveal my identity.

It was hard, but it was worth it and when this soon turned into a job, it just got better.
...

Months had passed and my popularity had just grown, developing more and more with each new painting, my most controversial one being one of peter pan flying away with Wendy and her brothers being chained to the ground behind him, trying to fly, but not having the ability to.

All of my work has been done with green paint leading to people knowing me as the 'green thumb'.

Spec along with the others had left to other states and countries to continue spreading their ideas and even offered me to join them, but I declined. I couldn't just leave Rose and besides, I didn't have enough money to travel anyway.

I ended up getting a job at the gas station so I could begin paying for my own supplies and not have to bother Kat.

I saved up a few of my paycheck and bought myself a silver chain to hold the promise ring. I wore it everyday, only taking it off to shower and always kissing it before I began painting as a form of good luck. I began missing Harry with his bad knock knock jokes, green eyes, dimples, and just him all together. I wasn't sure what he has been doing, if he got the package, or if he had even missed me as much as I had him, but either way, the idea of him kept me going. I loved him still and right now I still do, whether he feels the same way or not.
Katherine ended up finding out about my identity and secret life since she spotted my hidden stencils and red hoodie. She wasn't mad or angered, but more concerned. She told me how I should be careful, that she knows she isn't my mother and would never control me since I am now twenty, but just to be safe. I hugged her tight and I just told her how everything began and my ideas for the future over our weekly chocolate chip cookie time. They were especially good that day.

I ended up confessing to Rose too and she grew excited as well as a little sad. Spec, Fathom, and other graffiti artists have now been revealing themselves and selling their artwork through art shows, making it big and making big money. Katherine as well as the eleven year old both thought I should do it, travel the world and spread my wings. But I didn't want to leave them. Especially not Rose.

But after weeks of endless lectures and tough encouragement, I finally agreed.
I flew to New York, meeting up with Spec and she helped me make the announcement to the media. Everyone went nuts! I didn't really believe I was as well known as everyone made me out to be, but when I threw my first art show and saw all the people that flew from other continents to just to see paintings, I knew I made a big impact.
I made over eighty thousand dollars that day and had to even use my inhailor a few times to control my rapid breathing due to my bewilderment.

My face began plastering itself upon magazine covers, television, newspapers, and other forms of media. People began coming up to me for my autograph. People began coming up to me for my picture. And people came up to me just to see me in general.

I was interviewed by several people, even finally revealing my past about my father, Aiden, and my life when I was homeless. Everyone seemed to find it inspiring and I have even been asked to speak at colleges and Universities, all of this attention and love overwhelming me in such an amazing way that I feel as if I was the one impacted the most by all of this.
I wasn't wealthy, but I guess I was getting there. I always sent part of my money to Katherine, to pay her back for everything and have donated to many charities that help homeless families and children in need of education.

I finally have my own apartment now as well as a passport, my drivers permit, and my very own cell phone. Spec and I right now have been working on this art show together with pieces that we have collaborated from. We're going to donate half of the money to charities and even some paintings along with it and I just wish my father was alive to see all of this. I have finally moved forward and I just hope that where ever he is, he's aware.
Louis and I have been talking to each other lately, catching up as well.

He's mentioned how their tour would've already ended, but due to some issues he isn't allowed to discuss with me that the tour was even momentarily delayed due to him being forced into therapy. I kind of chuckled when he told me it was for anger management since I'm not really surprised.

He hated it, no scratch that, he loathed it but met some girl there that is kind of cool. Her name is Winifred and apparently she has a flower fetish and likes taking pictures. Due to twitter, I found out what shipping meant, so I teased him and told him how he should go for it since I already shipped them. Linnefred or Wouis. Yeah, I know I'm shit at ship names, but I just began understanding it so whatever.

Apparently Niall and Eli are engaged and their wedding is going to be after their tour, and I don't think I have ever been happier for a couple. I mean they are young since they're both twenty two years old, but I'm not one to judge. Besides I knew they were going to get married anyway, so why not now? Zayn and Perrie are engaged too anyway.

Louis is probably my best friend and he is probably one of the people I've missed the most. The first being my father and the second the curly haired boy, so when he asked me for a favor, I couldn't decline. He wanted me to paint some room for his friend as a gift and he even offered money, but I of course declined to the pay part since I said I would do it for free.
He said he would text me the address when they land in America to begin their tour there and I just agreed.
...

I was standing in a highly elegant decorated room with Spec for a charity event that we were both invited to. The charity is called 'A forever tomorrow' and we had been waiting for about two hours for the creator to finally speak. To be honest I wasn't really sure what the charity was for, but Spec just told me to shut up and go to find out and how could I say no to that.
A young tall man with shaggy brown hair wearing a black tux came out and people began clapping, my curiosity just growing.

I thought that he was going to be the creator of this thing, but my hopes fell flat when he just announced how the real man couldn't show up that he had another thing he had to attend that he couldn't miss. I glanced at Spec, wanting so badly to leave already, but she just told me to hold on and wait to see what happens and after a few minutes of groaning, I gave in.
The man began speaking about the charity, saying how all the money donated that day would be sent to programs around the world that assist children and young teens that are depressed and suicidal.

"Pain just leads to more pain, and sometimes it can make the tallest person feel like a kid."
The speaker read from a paper, saying how they were the creator's words and not his. I want to meet this man, this creator. I have heard of many charities, but never one like this. The memory of me standing on that railing, staring into the eyes of death and feeling happy about it framed my mind and I immediately rose my hand.

"Who started this charity?" I questioned, Spec smiling softly at me as if she knew something I didn't.

"Harry Styles. The singer from One Direction."

My chest hurt and as all eyes landed on me when I lifted the end of my necklace up to my face, I knew that in fact Spec did know.

"Oh." I responded.

After the charity event I couldn't look at Spec or even talk to her and it wasn't because I was angry or mad at her, but just because I was confused in a way. What had happened in the last ten months with him?

When Spec went back to her apartment, I began heading back to mine, hearing my phone buzzing as the bus began stopping.

It was a text from Louis.

'How was the charity event?' it read.

I bit my lip and knew that he had known the whole time. Everyone knew. Everyone except me.

'Your friend lives in Virginia doesn't he?' I sent back.

I immediately got a reply as I began unlocking the door to my home.

'Yup.'

'Are you all in America yet?'

'Yup.'

'Virginia?'

'Yup.'

I sighed and my hands began shaking a little.

'I'll be there tomorrow.'

I messaged back as I began packing my clothes, calling Katherine and notifying her that I was going to be in town for a while.

Now I'm here, standing in front of the recognizable door with my art supplies in a bag in one hand and my other formed in a fist, beginning to knock on the door in a slow yet loud way.
His car is in the front and my inhailor is in my front pocket since I feel that I might need it.
"Coming!" I hear him yell, nodding to myself since I don't really know what else to do.
The door finally opens, revealing the person I haven't seen in ten months. His lips parted and his eyes wide.

"Jane." He mutters before rubbing his eyes as if he thinks I'm just a hallucination. But I'm not and he's not.

"Hi."

Notes

Yeah I haven't updated this thing in like 8 months and I'm a terrible person.

IM SORRY.

But here. Im just gonna post the rest of the story so you guys dont have to worry