- HARRY -

I let out a sigh before letting my bags drop to the floor. Louis and Zayn mimicked my actions before falling in a heap of exhaustion onto my couch. This tour had been murder on us. Letting out a sigh, I headed down the hall towards my bedroom.

The guys and I were currently on their tour of the U.S. and had finally arrived in California. After visiting on our last tour I had fallen in love with the state and the city of Los Angeles, so much so that I had bought a house here. Niall had purchased one as well and we had decided to stay in our homes rather than in a hotel this time around.

It was strange being back. I had hired a housekeeper to come every few weeks just to make sure the house was in good condition, though it appears she had been taking her duties lightly. As I passed by the kitchen an open cupboard in an other wise sleek interior caught my attention. Odd.

I shrugged it off and headed down towards my bedroom. Since when were all of these doors shut? As I entered the bedroom I jumped back in surprise, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest. Sleeping soundly in the bed was…

A girl?

What the? How the hell did she get in here? I hesitated then took a small step forward. She had long blonde hair that fell gracefully over her shoulders and down her back. It was wet and I immediately noticed a damp towel on the floor. Had she…showered here too?

I backed slowly out of the room, taking care to make sure my feat didn’t creak against the hardwood, before I broke into a sprint towards Louis and Zayn.

"Get up! Get up! There's a girl in my room!"

Both let out a groan so I grabbed the nearest pillow and began whacking them to get their attention.

"What?" Zayn frowned while Louis groaned, "Harry, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"There is a girl sleeping in my bed!" I hissed. The more I said it the crazier it sounded. The two exchanged a frown before getting up and heading to my room to see for themselves. "Look she's right...where'd she go? She was just here!"

We all looked around confusingly at the empty room. The bed was a mess, the covers thrown back and I let out a sigh of relief knowing I wasn’t loosing my mind. I looked down to see the towel as it was before.

"There!" Zayn cried, pointing out towards the back yard. Without thinking I pulled open the sliding door and ran out after her. The girl was sprinting down bridge behind the pool in an attempt to escape, her long blonde hair bouncing in the wind.

"Hey! Hey wait up!” I called after her.

She had reached the end of the bridge only to freeze when she saw Louis running out of the other side door. She spun around to back track but realized she was trapped when she saw me standing there. She then looked down to the water, as if debating jumping in.

"Hold on love, just hold on a second. We're not going to hurt you." I said, holding up my hands and slowly moving towards her. She looked terrified.

"Please don't call the cops!" She begged. "I'm sorry. No one was home and I-I was hungry. I didn't take anything I swear. Please I-"

"Calm down love you're not in trouble," I reassured her. I almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation, but realized that might not be the best move. The girl was regaining her self-control, though she was still eyeing the water. I tried a different approach. "Look, why don't you come in and have a bite to eat while we figure this all out?"

I watched as her eyes flickered from me to Zayn to Louis. She was sizing us up; hesitant whether she could trust us.

"What do you say love?" I pressed.

She took in a breath and gave me a small nod before slowly moving back towards the house. Louis and Zayn shot me confused looks. I gave them a shrug in response as we followed the mysterious girl back into the house. She obviously needed help and I wasn’t just going to kick her to the curb.

“Call Paull?” Zayn whispered.

“Best be on the safe side,” muttered Louis. “She could just be a crazy fan…”

Zayn immediately stepped out of the room to call head of security and let him know what was up. But I frowned as he left. She didn’t seem like a fan. If she was a fan she would have cried, screamed, or tried to get a picture with us. No, she was something else.

Once inside the house, the girl sat down on the kitchen stool and leaned against the wall so she could see us all at once. I headed over to the cabinets to look for food as Louis tried to get her to open up.

"So what's your name love?"

She chewed her lip before answering, “Kat.”

“Cat?” I frowned.

“It’s short for Katrina.”

I couldn’t help but stare at her. She was shorter than I, though at six foot most people were. And she was even more beautiful up close. Her story eyes seemed to pierce through me yet give me no hint of the secrets she seemed to be hiding. Light freckles covered her nose and cheeks and the California sun seemed to have left permanent highlights in her already blonde hair. On her feet she wore tattered tennis shoes with holes in the soles and rips along the sides so you could see her toes peeking out. I noticed she had her worn out backpack on and doubted she would take it off anytime soon.

"Katrina…that's a beautiful name," Louis smiled.

“I hate it,” she huffed. I watched as she ran a hand through her messy hair accidentally exposing a deep bruise on her forearm.

Louis must have noticed too for he hesitated before clearing his through and adding, "I'm Louis by the way. That’s Harry there, and Zayn is the mysterious fellow."

"Are you British?" She asked. I let out a chuckle despite myself as I began making some pancakes. She had no idea who we were. There’s something you don't get everyday.

"How'd you know?" Joked Zayn as he reentered the room.

"Lucky guess." She replied with a smirk. I couldn't help but let out a laugh. Zayn gave us a small nod, signaling he had informed Paul of the odd situation we were in.

I gave Katrina a smile as I began poring the pancake mix into the pan, hoping she wouldn’t notice Zayn’s suspicious behavior. As I made the pancakes I noticed there was hardly anything missing from the cupboards and I wondered if she had even taken anything at all.

"So are you from the area Kat?" Asked Louis.

"Oh yeah, I live right next to the Kardashian's that’s why I broke into your house to scavenge for food."

"I meant are you from LA you cheeky little devil."

She broke into a small smile despite herself and replied. "I've lived in the city my whole life."
"So how'd you find your way to the 90210 neighborhood?" Asked Zayn while I added, "and don't you dare say its cause you're the Kardashian's neighbor again because I know the couple personally and they don't have a daughter."

"Maybe I was away at boarding school? Or they bought me a vacation home like yours did?" She countered. Katrina raised her eyebrow as if challenging me.

I couldn't help but notice how easily she had avoided the question and wondered if the others had caught it too. I slid a plate of pancakes over to her and said, "This isn't my parents home. This house belongs to me."

"That's worse than I thought," she muttered in between bites. I broke into a smile along with the other two. Katrina shrugged at our teasing and added, "but this means I don't have to be scared of your dad coming after me with a shotgun now."

"How do you know we won't come after you?" Louis quizzed.

"Because you freaks invited me inside rather than chasing me off the property." She shrugged. "Most people would have at least called the cops."

I exchanged a nervous glance with the other two though Katrina was too busy eating to notice it. We hadn't called the cops, but we had told our manager. She looked up at our silence, pushing her hair out of her face again and looking at us curiously.

"So, just put of curiosity...how long have you been living here?" I quizzed, remembering the damp towel still sitting on my bedroom floor. She pushed the half eaten plate of pancakes away and pulled her leg up onto the stool. She suddenly looked like a very guilty child who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Only last night."

"Do you know someone in the area? Or were you just preying on the poor folks out on vacation?" Questioned Louis.

"If they can afford to live in a place like this and take a vacation, then they can afford to feed me for a night."

"But that's stealing," countered Lou. She shot him a look in annoyance and Zayn and I exchanged a quick glance. Louis needed to be careful, we didn't want to scare her away.

"Look at it this way," Katrina said. "If you rich folks paid your equal share of taxes like the rest of us they could open more food banks so people like me would have something to eat. I'm simply taking what you owe me anyway."

"But they've worked hard for that money."

"Worked hard?" She sneered. "Oh I'm sorry. Ordering people around must be very tiring. Do you get a little tired working from 9 to 5?"

I bit my lip, suddenly feeling extremely guilty. We did work hard. But we did also order people around and cause a trail of chaos in our wake. I told myself we were considerate, but were we really? We didn't work nearly as hard as the security crew or the stadium crews yet it was us who reaped all the benefits.

"We don't work 9-5," laughed Zayn. "Our work is a different kind of hard work. And we're not like these other folks. We try to do good with what we have."

She gave him a small, almost pitying, smile. "I believe you."

Just then the front door opened signaling our tour manager had arrived. At the sound Katrina had flinched violently and looked around in fright.

"Hey Pauley!" Smiled Louis. "Kat, this is our tour manager."

Katrina looked up suspiciously and jumped out of her seat a moment later when the sheriff walked in. He was short and balding with a large beer belly.

"I thought you said you wouldn't call the cops," she hissed angrily. I opened my mouth to explain however I was cut off abruptly.

"Well, if it isn't Katrina Barton. Looks like you finally found some boys you couldn't charm," the Sheriff sneered. I frowned along with the others as the sheriff took a step forward. "Good work boys…this little prostitute has been causing trouble for quite some time."

"It's not prostitution if they don't pay me," Katrina spat back. "And last time I checked, homelessness wasn't a crime."

I felt my jaw drop and quickly shut it before Katrina saw. It’s not prostitution if they don’t pay her…what did that mean? Was she sleeping with people to eat? To sleep in a bed with a roof over her head?

"No, but breaking and entering is," the Sheriff replied while taking another step forward. I saw Katrina begin to panic. Though I was unsure if what the sheriff said was true, I suddenly felt the need to help her - especially after that rant of hers. She had been starving! She broke in to eat, shower, and have a safe place to sleep. We couldn't just let her go to prison could we?

"We're not looking to press any charges," I heard himself say. Both men frowned and turned to me in confusion. Katrina looked at me too with confusion and relief filling her eyes.

Paul cleared his throat and said, "How did ya manage to get in Hun? There are cameras lining the exterior."

She was silent for a moment, chewing her lip in debate if she should tell us. The sheriff have her a violet shake and the boys and I yelled out for him to stop.

"Not the basement window on the north wall," Katrina replied, glaring at the sheriff. If looks could kill he would be more than dead. "The bushes hide it. I was able to jimmy it open."

Everyone stared at her, me included. She nervously ran her hand through her hair again, exposing the bit of the bruise on her arm. I again wondered how many more she had hidden under her clothes. What if she had been running away from someone? Was the sheriff going to send her back?

"No one was here. I-I was hungry I only wanted some food," she stammered, looking at me apologetically.

"There's food banks," the sheriff replied unsympathetically. My dislike of the sheriff increased with every word he said. And judging by Zayn and Louis's faces, they felt the same way.

"The food banks 10 miles away. They would be closed by the time I got there and-"

"Then you go in the morning," the officer hissed. We all glared at him. He grabbed her backpack strap and ripped the bag from her shoulders. “Do you also plan to tell me you didn’t steal anything?”

“Hey!” Cried Katrina, making a grab for her bag but the officer held it out of reach. “Give that back! That’s private property!”

“Well it’s a good thing I have probable cause,” the officer sneered. He tipped the raggedy old backpack upside down and out fell two books, a spare shirt, stolen candy bars I recognized from my cabinet, and an old toothbrush.

There was an awkward silence as we all stared down at the contents of the bag. Was that really all she had? We these the only items she owned?

“Well officer. It looks like we're all resolved here," Paul intervened, as Katrina dropped to the floor to gather her things. “We really appreciate ya comin down and helpin us sort it all out-"

"Well I'm glad I could be of service," he said tipping his hat. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to press charges?"

"Positive," I growled.

"This has all just been a misunderstanding," nodded Louis.

"Well then," the officer stepped forward and grabbed Katrina roughly by the arm before pinning her against the wall.

"HEY!"

"Katrina Barton you're under arrest for five counts of prostitution and ten counts of breaking and entering. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law-"

"Hold on!" I cried. Katrina let out a scream and tried to fight against the man as he began pulling her out the door. Louis, Zayn and I all turned to Paul, "we're just going to let that happen?"

"It's none o' our business," Paul said. I ran to the window, Louis right behind me. Katrina was sitting in the cop car while the sheriff started the vehicle, a smug look on his face.

"This isn't right!" I argued. "He has a vendetta against her."

"Harry, he said five counts of prostitution and ten counts of burglary!"

"But we can help her. We can get her into a shelter or something!" Agreed Louis. "She probably did those things out of desperation."

Paul glared at the three of us for a moment before letting out a groan and running his hand through his hair. I immediately knew we had won. Paul grabbed the keys and walked over to the door while muttering angrily to himself. Louis, Zayn and I quickly high fived before following him out to the car.

Notes

Thoughts?