Larissa Jones has dreams of a boy, a boy she's never met. Every night would be a new fantasy in this perfect relationship. Dates to restaurants; watching the sunset or drives into the middle of nowhere. It was perfect and he was perfect too. Dark brown ringlets framed his face and bottomless green eyes that she could stare into forever.

But when Larissa goes to see a fortune teller for fun with her friend and the fortune teller magically recites everything in her dreams-that she’s going to meet a boy in a couple of years, with brown curls and green eyes and will go on wonderful and romantic dates with, she starts to unravel that maybe these aren’t just dreams, but visions into the future, her whole world changes.

How will she meet this boy? She finally stops delving into her dreamland of books long enough to make the connection that this boy isn’t just some recurring perfection, he’s Harry Styles and with millions of fans worldwide (after doing some research), how will she meet


12. Oh. My. God.

Chapter 12:

There. Right there. Looking me right in the eye. Harry. Harry Styles. Yes. I’m panicking really badly. Larry. Calm down. Deep breathing. You can do it. I sound like I’m about to jump off a cliff. Not good.

The man huffed and asked for my name, which I squeaked out. Then as he turned round to fetch my key card I turned as well. I forced out a smile at Harry and he returned one.

‘Um, t-thank y-you f-f-for help-h-helping me b-back um there,’ I stuttered out, completely making myself look like a fool.

‘No problem,’ he smiled.

Oh God. I bet he thought I was some sort of crazed fan. I wasn’t! Well, I was a fan of them but not obsessive and stalker-ish like some. He just didn’t understand my situation and how much he literally meant to me.

The man then turned back around with my little plastic key card and arrogantly placed it on the table in front of me. I sighed and picked it up.

‘Um, er, t-thanks again H-Harry,’ I cleared my throat, ‘bye.’

I gave him a quick smile as I scampered off out of sight. I checked the number on my key card. K124. I walked into the lift with sudden exhaustion and pressed the letter K. The doors closed and then opened again with a ping. I walked out and then carried on down the corridor until I found my room. 119. 120. 121. 122. 123. 124. Got it!

I scanned the card over the door sensor and then opened it to reveal a large room. A queen-sized bed lay in the corner with a stupid amount of pillows on it. I noticed the large wooden box at the front of the bed to put them in. A red velvet sofa lay in another corner facing a fairly big television.

I lugged my suitcase in the room before collapsing on the couch in exhaustion. I studied the rest of the room. A blood red set of curtains that matched the rest of the room coated the floor length windows. The walls had cream colour paint on the top half and then a cream and red wallpaper covered the bottom. It was all very red.
Everything then disappeared from my mind for the first time in about a month and I fell fast asleep on the couch.

‘Ah!’ I shouted as I woke with a start. I checked the time. 4.38pm. Gah! I’ve twenty-two minutes to get ready for the dinner with the senior editors. I scrambled of the couch, smoothing down my creased up clothes at the same time and ignoring the woozy feeling because of getting up to quickly.

It was lucky I had already had a shower right before a left because there wasn’t time now. I hurried into the bathroom to fix my make-up and sort out my mess of hair. Once that was done I opened up my suitcase and pull out a formal dress. It came to about two inches above the knee and was black with thin spaghetti straps holding it up. It was drawn in tight at the middle and flared out lightly at the bottom. It was one of my favourites. I silently cursed when I spotted the crease marks running down some part of the dress. Yet again I had no time to sort that out either.

I slipped it over my head and grabbed a pair of shiny black heels. I gave myself the okay in the mirror before grabbing my clutch and dropped my phone, some money into it, my lip-gloss and the key card for the room. I walked out of the door before having second thoughts on my outfit. Girls always have them.

I clicked the button for the lift and waited for it to arrive. Once I had gotten down to the bottom floor I walked out to be surprised by at least a hundred girls waiting outside the doors of the hotel. That’s strange-I didn’t notice them before. Then I realized who they were here to see.

I stepped out of the hotel and flashes of light erupted around me. Woah, I’m not the one they want to see! A security guy helped me through the large crowd and into the car where Paul was waiting.

‘Oh my God!’ I exclaimed, as soon I was safe with the door firmly shut behind me.

Paul chuckled, ‘I know, it’s so hectic.’

‘Tell me about it,’ I mumbled.

We set off and halfway through Paul handed me something.

‘I forgot to give you these earlier,’ he told me.

I opened it up to find the $250 and the invitation to get into the dinner. I gasped at the wad of cash in front of me. I don’t think I’ve held this much in my whole entire life!

‘It’s the money for tomorrow and the invitation is because Vogue hired a room out for the celebration so you will need it to get in.’

‘Thank you Paul.’

‘No problem honey,’ he replied with a sincere smile.

Once again when I stepped out a thousand flashed blinded me. I was shocked because I didn’t think a Vogue dinner would get this reception or that the paparazzi would ever find out.

I scurried into the building and waited by the entrance for about half a minute before a handsome, young waiter spotted me.

‘Are you here for the Vogue dinner?’ he asked me charmingly with a smile.

‘Yeah, how did you know?’ I asked him, smiling.

‘I can see the invitation,’ he laughed lightly; ‘I’ll show you to the dinner room.’

I didn’t quite catch the name of the restaurant as I moved quickly to ensure my safety into the building. It was incredibly formal-probably the most posh place I’ve ever been too.
The waiter led through a set of double doors where I was greeted with about four or five people.

‘Ah! You must be Larissa! I’m the editor here at the London Vogue,’ a woman with perfectly cropped hair and dazzling white tooth smiled at me as she introduced herself to me.

‘Hello, it’s nice to meet you all,’ I spoke politely to everyone in the room.

‘Of course, let me introduce you to everyone. Not everybody is here at the moment but I’ll let you meet the people here so far. Okay so we’ve got people from the journaling side of things and the physical side of things. This is Taylor. He is our main photographer at London. This is Sandra; she is in the editor of the London Teen Vogue. Kim, she is our online blogger and Katie is our stylist.’

I said hello to everyone as they were introduced and either shook hands or gave them a quick hug.

‘Now we have a few more people coming and ah! Here are a few more!’ she gave me a dazzling, award winning smile.

‘Look Larissa, these people are this months cover stars!’

I slowly turned.

‘Larissa, meet Zayn, Liam, Niall, Louis and Harry!’

‘Nice to meet you…again,’ Harry said.

Oh. My. God. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Yet.
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