You stand agape at the sight of Zayn.  He is practically surrounded by cameras, wearing some black pants and a black leather jacket.  He looks almost the same as when he did eight years ago except for maybe a little sign of aging, but not much.   He still has his usual quiff, which pleases you.  You want so badly to rush in and give him a great big hug, but you know you can't.  You need to stay calm.  You turn the doorhandle carefully and quietly walk in.  Not letting the door slam shut, you keep your eyes on Zayn, who moves to a different pose every time he hears the cameras click.

"Good, Zayn!" one of the cameramen shout.  "Let's get a side pose... Yes!  That's it!  Great work."

You cautiously make your way toward the cameras, Zayn, and the giant white backdrop behind him.  Suddenly Zayn's eyes spot you.  You stand more still than you ever have before in your life, and try to smile.

"What is this girl doing here?" Zayn asks.

The cameramen all turn around and look at you.   "Sorry young lady," one of them say, "this is a closed shoot."

You don't pay attention to him and pay attention to Zayn instead.  You look into his eyes, but he stares blankly right back into yours with no sign of recognition on his face.

"Look, I'm not doing autographs or anything," Zayn tells you.  "I'm busy.  Now get out!"

You sadly look at him.  "Zayn?" you say.

"What?" he asks, still giving you that blank stare.  Five seconds of silence pass.  Then the long-awaited moment came.  Zayn's face slowly perked up, and his eyes widened.  "Y/N..." he gasps. 

"Zayn," you say with tears in your eyes. 

He holds out his arms and you rush into them, burying your head into his chest.

"Where have you been?" Zayn asks you in a whisper.

"Far away..." you say.

"For too long..." Zayn adds.

The hug breaks and you look lovingly into each other's eyes.

"I can't believe you're here..." Zayn says, still whispering.

"Me either..." you say.

"How...how did you find me?"

"It wasn't easy...but I eventually saw you on a magazine."

Zayn chuckles.

"Hey, um...Zayn?" one of the cameramen says.  "What's the hold-up, here?  Who is this girl?  We need to get back to work!"

Zayn puts a hand up to silence him.  "She...she's...she's my...she's just everything.  She's so special to me.  I would walk out of this place right now and never work here again just to be with her for another minute again..."

The cameraman's mouth nearly drops.  "Oh, you had better not quit on us, Zayn!  We're paying you loads of money!  You're our best model!"

"Model?" you ask.

Zayn nods and sighs.  "I am a model now," he says.

"Wow," you say.

"Yeah," Zayn says, chuckling.  "I got this job about a year after the band broke up...I thought maybe my looks came in second against my voice."

You laugh and say, "I think you're right.  It's kinda funny...it's like you posed all the time for group band pictures."

"What do you mean?"

"Well...you would always have that little pout," you say, giggling.

Zayn laughs a bit.  "Maybe you're right.  I guess this job really suits me."

"It does," you say.

"It does!" a cameraman shouts.  "Now can we please get back to it?  We don't have all day!"

"Maybe we don't have all day, but I would much rather spend it with Y/N," Zayn says.

"It's alright," you say.  "I'll leave."

"No!" Zayn shouts. 

"Don't worry," you tell him.  "I'm going to find the rest of the boys so we can all be together again.  I have already found Louis."

"Louis!" Zayn says.  "How is he?  What is he doing now?"

"He's fine," you say.  "Just fine.  He's a movie director."

"Wow..." Zayn says.  "And I thought I still had a famous life."

"Let me tell you that he's still as sassy as ever, if not more," you say.

"Is that even possible for Louis to be more sassy?"

You laugh.  "Apperantly.  Look, I should go."

"Wait...Habib..." he mutters.

"What?" you ask, thinking it's just rubish.

"Habib!  Where is he?!" he asks.

Habib is Davis' Arabic middle name in honor of Zayn.  How could you have forgotten?

"He's with Louis!" you say.  "He's doing great and he can't wait to meet all of you."

"Oh, I can't wait to meet him, either!  How old is he now?  Nine?"

"Eight," you correct, chuckling.

"Wow...eight years since I have seen you or him...I can't believe it." Zayn's face suddenly turns downcast just as Louis' did when he found out how much of Davis' childhood he missed.

"Don't worry Zayn," you tell him.  "Soon we will all be together and things will be just like old times."

A small smile appears on his face as you smile back.  "I've got to go.  But soon we'll all be together."

Again, you found yourself in the clamour of London all alone.  Two boys down, three to go.  As you walk the streets of London, you find yourself looking all around for any possible clues.  Who knows, maybe the rest of them don't have a job and they are living in luxury like Louis said Liam was planning on doing after they split.  So there could be nothing public about them sitting around London as there was with Louis and Zayn.  How would you find them?  You are absolutely done with asking around.  A phonebook perhaps?  But where can you find a phonebook?  Sighing, you continue to look around just in case, almost ignoring the people walking around you.

A long, dreary hour passes.  You wonder how Davis is doing with Louis.  You hope that Louis isn't being to sassy around him, or else it might rub off on him.  You shake that thought off and remember your main goal right now.  To find one more of the boys before sunset.  You happen to glance up at a very large building.  On it, you see a large sort of cloth poster draped on it so it hangs against the brick wall of the building.  A man is pictured there wearing a chef's hat and holding a wooden spoon in one hand and a whisk in the other.  You smile and assume this is the chef the those old ladies were talking about.  Wait a minute...they said that his last name was Styles...maybe it's Harry after all!  You look back at it and look harder to find it is!  It is Harry!  His brown curly hair stuck out everywhere beneath the hat and his seductive green eyes stared straight into your soul. 

Now the trick is to find him.  It shouldn't be too hard.  "Excuse me!" you shout at a nearby lady.

"Yes?" she asks.

"Where does Harry Styles work?" you ask, pointing up at his picture.

"Ah, at the only studio uptown," she says.  "I wouldn't get your hopes up on meeting him, though.  He's gotten pretty famous."

And just like that she was on her way again.  The only studio uptown.  Soon you find yourself in a taxi for the second time today.  It takes the taxi about twenty minutes to get uptown and to the studio there and you reluctantly pay him the fee he demands.  Your money is running out, but you don't care.  You just found two millionares, about to find a third.  You rush up to the building as the taxi speeds away.  Flinging the door open, you are met by a desk with a busy lady working there.

"Excuse me," you say.  "Where is Harry Styles?"

"Ah, yes...Mr. Styles.  Are you one of his affiliates?" she asks.

"Um...no, not really," you say.  "I'm kind of like his girlfriend."

"Harry Styles does not have a girfriend," she says.  "And I'm afraid he's not here at the moment."

"When will he be here?" you ask.

"Well you should know if you're a fan of his," the lady says.  "His show runs tonight from seven to eight o'clock.  But I'm afraid you cannot speak to him.  He doesn't like many fans bothering him."

"No, you don't understand!  I'm more than a fan and he's really important to me and I'm really important to him, I swear!"

"That's what they all say..." the lady sighs.  "Look, I'm really busy, so can you stop wasting my time?"

"No, I need to see him!"

"Well, he's not here."

"Then give me his number!" you demand.

"Sorry, I can't do that.  Here's the card to the studio," she says, giving it to you instead.  "Now have a nice day."

"Wait, but..."

"I said have a nice day!" she shouts. 

Annoyed, you stuff the business card in your pocket and start heading toward the door.  You open it and you are about to give it your best slamming job ever when someone says your name.  You whirl around.

"It's you..." Harry whispers.

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