Catch My Breath *Liam Payne Love*

Kyra Moore has always loved fashion.
Though, at first she never got it to be her dream job, that changed one day.
She went to an interview and she got the job.
But her first client, she just thought it would have never been them.
Can she handle the pressure or will she buckle and lose everything?


2. Meeting The Boys


Maybe I look like shit? Damn it, I should’ve checked myself out this morning, before I came in for the interview. Well, if my stupid alarm clock would’ve done its job, I wouldn’t have been late and I would’ve had time. I wonder if the lady still wants to see me, even though I was late.

“Kyra Moore?” A small, nervous voice snips out.

I glance up, through my glasses, and see a young girl standing there. She’s looking around the room and I finally stand up. Her gaze reaches me and she beckons for me to follow her.

We walk through a long hallway, taking many lefts and rights before finally reaching Miss Burton’s office. I wonder how Marcus knows her. Hm, I’ll ask him later, yeah. I step in and I see her eyes glued to the computer screen, as I sit down.

But the second my bum reaches the seat, her eyes snap up to me. She runs them over me, checking me out, to see if I even qualify look-wise.

“So when did you decide you wanted to be a fashion designer, Miss Moore?” She asks leaning back in her chair, tapping her clipboard, which held all the information that she needed to know about me, on it. I struggle to remember the exact moment but I vaguely remember it, so I try to explain it.

“I think I was about 10, and my mom finally decided to take me to the mall, and the minute I was free I saw a certain store. I think it was TJ Max and so I decided to go in. I did and, normally someone would just see shirts, pants, and what not,” I paused, making sure she wasn’t bored. She’s wasn’t, so I continued. “But I saw many outfits that could easily be put together. And, so out of my kid kindness, I put outfits together for customers I didn’t even know. Even a grandma suggested to the store they hire me.” I finish and avoided her gaze, fiddling with my fingers.

“What would it mean for you to get this job?” She asks next.

“Everything, my dream would have come true,” I respond quickly, not even thinking about the answer. I glance up, a quick glance though. But I manage to see a small appear on Miss Burton’s face.

“Thanks for your time, you may go.” She said next.

I almost want to ask, that’s it? Nothing more? But I hold my tongue, afraid it will cost me my chance at my dream job. I nod, smiling, and exit quickly.

I wasn’t lying when I said it would mean the world to me. I really, really wanted this job like I had never before.

*1 day later*

She still hasn’t called. Maybe this is a sign, saying I didn’t get. Oh hell, I really wanted it. Ugh, I can’t stop thinking about it. Whatever, I’m going to get some Captain Crunch and sit down at the Telly and watch some How I Met Your Mother, yah.

I groan as I force myself out of my bed, and trudge down the hallway to the kitchen. Marcus and Magus had already left for their jobs. They both, luckily, work at a dog kennel business. It is a pretty good one I suppose, because lots of wealthy people kept their animals there, whenever they went on vacation.

I pour the cereal in and walk over to the fridge. I quickly open the door, snatching out the milk and walk back over to my cereal. Once I have the right amount of milk in it, I put it back, and head over to the TV.

And just as I reach for the remote, my cell phone begins to ring, and One Thing by One Direction starts playing. Yeah, I’m like about 19, and I like them. My parents think I need to go to a mental institute, because I’m so “obsessed” with them.

“Hello?” I say through the phone, setting my cereal down on the table, wondering if it is Miss Burton.

It is.

“Yes, Miss Moore, I’d like you to come back to the building. There is something else we must now discuss.” She replies, suddenly hanging up once she is finished.

Great, well neither did I get the job but I didn’t lose it either, but I am just more nervous now.

I quickly throw some clothes on, yet again, not even bothering to look at my appearance. I dash out of the apartment, speeding outside, to grab a taxi. Yes, I live in New York. But I’ve always wanted to see what London and Essex look like.


I make it there and I stumble out of the taxi, as I rush to get inside, really flipping nervous. I jump into the elevator, just as it was closing, and nearly crash into…a really, super cute guy.

He raises his eyebrows, noticing me lying on the floor, in an ugly mess. I squeal and immediately stand up, brushing myself off.

“Here to see my mother?” He asks, reaching out with a hand.

I shake his hand, “Your mother?”

“Yeah, otherwise known as Miss Burton,” He replies, his hand warm in mine.

I remove my hand, settling it back down at my side, “Oh, yes, I am.”

“Good luck,” He whispers into my ear, as he leans towards me, before stepping out of the elevator at his stop.

That. Did. Not. Just. Flipping. Happen.

The elevator dings when it reaches the floor of her office. But her assistant is waiting for me. She stops me the minute I get off the elevator.

“No, Miss Moore, you are to meet your first client.” She smiles, directing me down a different hallway.

“Wait, my first client? I’m hired?” I ask, really confused.

Her assistant just nods, opening a door, and shoving me inside. I grip the table I crash into, trying to keep my balance. I look around the room, noticing I am alone. Is this a joke? Am I really not hired and they just want to embarrass me?

Suddenly I hear tons of laughter and voices coming from the other door, at the opposite side of the room. I start to make my way over there, very wary, and then suddenly the door slams open.

I jump back as five lads’ crash to the ground, in a laughing heap. At first, I can’t really see them, so I didn’t really know who just crashed into the room. But the minute they all stand up, and I really got a good look, I wanted to die.

I cough uncomfortably, fixing myself, watching the boys. They all stare back at me, uncertain of whom I am.

“Um, hello, lads,” I greet them, cutting the awkward silence off, and reach out with a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The one with really dark black hair, looks at me oddly, and then proceeds to ask, “You do know who we are, yeah?”

I nod, looking at them once again.

“You’re One Direction, a British-Irish boy band that most teenage girls just love.”

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