(Edited)

I stuck around after the end of the signing, hoping I could possibly get some more pictures or maybe even an interview (What? I'm a journalist. What do you expect from me?). But alas, I got no such interview. But I did get a couple candid photos that would look great on my blog along with my selfie (Which I still can't believe happened). After hours of waiting, I've decided to treat myself with new books because everyone deserves to treat themselves with a bunch of new books.

I pushed opened the door of a small and quaint bookstore nearby and I heard the quiet ring of a bell tied to the door.

I wandered up and down the bookshelves that towered over me. They were obnoxiously tall and seemed well over seven feet, stacked to the brim with books. I ended up in the back of store and saw a single girl behind a bar, sitting down with an old book in hand.

I gave her a small smile and she stood up, softly asking, "Hi. How can I help you?"

I looked up at the menu and saw something that caught my eye, "Hi. Can I please have a chocolate swirl hot chocolate?"

"You got it." she answered. "Name?"

"Zel," I responded. I walked back to the shelves and picked out a couple books to entertain myself while I waited for this mysterious hot cocoa.

Ring!

The front door got thrown open aggressively and the person that walked in seemed to have ran in. I poked my head pass the shelf, but was unsuccessful as they had moved and I was too short to see pass all these books.

I heard the quickening pace of this random person and I took it upon myself to try to find out who it was disturbing the quiet aesthetic of this book store.

I turned around to go the opposite direction since I hit a dead end and boom. I accidentally ran into someone, causing my books to fall from my grasp.

Found the culprit.

"I'm so sorry, I'm such a klutz." I muttered, picking up my books.

"No problem, I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Ditto."

I looked up to see a ridiculously tall guy with his hoodie drawn and sunglasses on standing high above me. How much of a douche do you have to be to wear sunglasses will in a dimly lit store? And that's when it hit me.

"Um... I'm... uhhh... sorry-"

"I'm guessing that you know who I am."

I didn't trust my voice, so I just nodded managing to close my mouth that was hanging open ever so slightly. Don't want to impress Luke with my amazing drooling skills.

"Are you going to freak out?" he asked, handing me one of the books I dropped.

"I'll try not to." I said with a small smile. I've technically already met him. This should just be easy-peezy, shouldn't it? "Mind if I ask why you're in my territory?"

"Your territory?"

"You heard me. Books are my domain. You're in my turf."

He chuckled and replied, "This was the best place to hide."

"Psychotic fans?"

"You could say that. I love all our fans, but-"

"It's gotta be pretty annoying when you have to harness your inner Usain Bolt to get away."

"Exactly."

"Well you're safe here. It's just me and a teenaged barista." I replied.

"Zel?"

"That's my hot chocolate. Nice chatting with you, random stranger." I said with a wink as I slithered pass him to get my drink.

Did that just happen? Did I just have a conversation with him? Did I just say good-bye to him! Did I just wink at him? What am I thinking? I could possibly lure him to my house and lock him up in my nonexistent basement (apartment struggles) and here I am just being coy and leave him for a drink that I don't even know will be good or not. Who am I and what happened to Zelina?

I managed to get my feet to work with me and I went to back to get my drink.

I took a sip and this was so worth it. It was a chocolate heaven. If that's what heaven is like, take me now. I've met Luke Hemmings and my bucket list has been finished (not really, but meeting Luke beats everything on there).

I sat down a table and speak of the devil, there's no way in hell that this is happening...

Luke Robert Hemmings sat across from me.

I gave him a look and he replied, "I'm going to wait out the storm."

I nodded and mouthed, "Got it."

Distract yourself. Distract yourself at all costs so you don't stare at this poor man and make a fool out of yourself for dribbling at the sight of him, of merely his presence.

So I did the logical thing; plugged my earbuds in and hit shuffle.

"Mrs All American" by 5 Seconds of Summer

No

"She's Kinda Hot" by 5 Seconds of Summer

Doubtful

"Beside You" by 5 Seconds of Summer

Enough with the 5SOS!

"Alone Together" by Fall Out Boy

Fuck off universe!

"Time to Dance" by Panic! At the Disco

Finally a logical song with no hidden meaning. Just Brendon singing. No harm in that.

I grab one of my books and started reading, moving my head slightly to the beat. It's a catchy song. What do you want from me? You know you do that too.

"Well she's not bleeding on the ballroom floor just for the attention, 'cause that's just ridiculously odd." I mouthed along to the song because I'm a total dork like that. I get quite immersed in my music. I'll mouth the words, dance, play air instruments, the works. Let's just say that my friends hated watching movies with me that had my favorite song in them.

I heard a small laugh next to me and that when I realized it was not alone. I was not in my apartment all by myself. I was not just in a coffee shop/ bookstore with one barista. I had an audience.

I blushed and looked over to see Luke silently laughing at my overdramatic-ness. Oh boy. First he knows my fan account and knows how much of a creeper I am and now he knows me in real life and knows how much of a weirdo I am. Great...

"Nice moves," he mouthed.

"Excuse me, but I'll have you know that I'm actually top of my class in Julliard."

He looked at me, shocked. "Wow. Really? I'm sorry."

I laughed and got up, sitting next to him. This is the most forward thing I've ever done in my life. "I'm just messing with you. I'm not a dancer."

"So I won't be in trouble for making fun of your horrible dance moves?"

I playfully punched him and I replied, "Hey, be nice. They weren't that bad."

"Okay, maybe I'll cut you some slack."

"Much appreciated." I replied, nodding in his direction.

"I'm Luke." He said formally, sticking out his hand out for me to shake it.

I smiled back and shook his hand, "Zelina."

"Zelina? That's a name you don't hear often." He commented.

"Thanks?" I responded.

"That was a compliment." He retorted.

"Oh, well then, thanks. It may sound pretty, but it's impossible to find a Coke bottle with my name on it." I replied.

We sat in semi-awkward silent and I hated it. "How's your day been?" I asked, breaking the quiet.

"Pretty good, actually. You?" he asked.

"Pretty good, thanks."

"Mind if I ask you a couple questions? I mean, if we're going to be hanging out together, might as well get to know you better."

"Understandable. Are you going to write this down and look up my record? Gonna make sure I've never gone to jail? Are you going to ask for my social security number too?"

"I'll also need your blood type and your ID."

"I'll also give you a strand of hair and a swab of my saliva."

"How old are you?"

"I'm turning twenty-one in a couple months," I replied simply.

"You're older than me."

"I am, believe it or not."

"What do you do?" he pried.

"I'm a professional couch potato." I replied, laughing internally at my own stupid joke and honestly answered, "Actually, I'm currently unemployed, but I have a bachelor's degree in journalism." I replied.

"So you're pretty much the paparazzi?"

"Depends on how you look at it. I see myself as a dignified journalist. I have more respect for myself than those vultures."

"I hope so or all I have to say to you is 'no comment'."

"Oh darn. You've caught me red-handed, I'm actually the best reporter in the world and I know now that your greatest weakness is plutonium rather than kryptonite like Superman.

He rolled his eyes "Am I not Superman-worthy?" he asked.

"Nah. You seem more like a blond Spiderman." I said, voicing my inner Luke!Spiderman headcannon (You know you have band headcannons, we all have them) "Any more questions?" I asked.

"Ready for the speed round?" he asked, leaning in.

"Hit me with your best shot." I shot back, leaning in as well.

"Favorite color?"

"Pink."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I know, I know. It's a really 'girly' color. But why exactly do colors have gender roles anyway?"

"Touché." He said as I smirked in response. "Favorite song?"

"Pass."

"You can't pass on a question."

"Why's that?"

"Because I said so."

"Wow, you used mom logic. I can't win that one."

"Just pick a song."

"Um... Rejects."

"You're a big fan?"

"Well duh. If I'm a 'die hard' fan, I have to like at least one of your songs."

"'Die hard' fan you say?"

"You yourself said I'm one of the biggest fan accounts that follow you. And I nearly died when I saw you guys actually followed me back."

"You posted quality content and you seemed like a pretty nice person in general."

"Why, thank you." I replied, flashing him a smile.

He chuckled, and asked, "Favorite movie?"

"Honestly, I can't choose. I can watch everything, but horror."

"Not a horror movie kind of girl?"

"Not at all. Especially since I ran out during the first ten minutes of the Poltergeist."

"That bad?"

"I'm much worse. Let's just say you wouldn't want to be sitting next to me during a scary part of a movie." I warned.

He laughed, "Noted. Are you going to ask me any questions?"

Hmm...? What do you ask someone who you know all about?

"Why'd you kill the quiff?" I asked, sincerely curious.

He laughed in response. "I wanted to try something different."

"The quiff suited you well." I mumbled, taking a sip of my hot chocolate.

"So I've heard. Who knows? Maybe I'll go back to it eventually."

"Give me a call when you do. That's an event I would not want to miss." I replied.

...

9 pm

It was 9 pm.

Luke and I had been talking for hours.

We both managed to sit and talk for well over an hour

"Why do you hate pineapple so much?" Luke asked, still laughing hysterically.

"When I was a freshman, I had to help out in the school kitchen for some reason, and I had to help unload the trucks that came with the food and one of the boxes fell and the bag holding the pineapples popped and spilled out pineapples and all their terrible juices, so to this day I hate pineapple and especially the smell of it. I smelled like pineapple the whole day. It took two baths to get it off." I answered, cringing just at the memory.

"Excuse me."

Luke and I both looked up to see the barista standing next to us.

"We literally have no customers today, so I was going to close up shop early so..."

"Oh! We're sorry. We'll be out of your hair immediately." I replied, quickly getting up.

"Don't worry. Take your time, but I just wanted to tell you guys." She explained.

"Consider us gone." I reassured, grabbing my stuff.

"Have a good night."

"Thanks. You too." I replied, smiling widely back at her.

Luke stayed back for a second and left what seemed to be quite a large amount of money in the tip jar. He said something to the barista and then walked out, catching up to me.

"How much money was that?" I asked, shocked.

"Probably fifty." He answered. "You know, for letting us just sit there and talk for a couple hours."

Damn; hot and a gentleman. I picked a good one.

"Is this good-bye?" Luke asked.

"Well I don't have any plans tonight."

"Neither do I."

"Really? No press conferences? No photoshoots? No meet and greets?"

"Nope. I'm done for the day."

An idea sparked in my head. "Are you hungry?"

"Starved."

"I know this hot dog stand nearby that I swear they have the best hotdogs you will ever eat. You'll never want to go back to any other hot dog."

"Let's go then. Let's see how good it really is." Luke replied. "Lead the way."

...

"Zel... I'm hungry."

"Were almost there." I reassured, walking past the slow tourists surrounding me.

"There's five million stands all around us. Why can't we eat at one of those?"

"And pay $2 for a hot dog? I don't think so. Plus Omar has the best hot dogs in all of America."

After five more minutes of walking, we finally arrived at Omar's hot dog stand.

"If it isn't my favorite customer." Omar said with a hearty laugh.

"If it isn't my favorite hot dog vendor." I replied.

"I know you love my hot dogs, but my stand isn't actually the classiest place for a date."

"Date? Wha- oh!" I cried, suddenly realizing what he was implying. "This isn't- were not on a date. He's, um, just a... friend." I frantically explained.

"Mhm..." Omar murmured, handing me my hotdogs. "$2.14"

I glared at him and reached for my wallet, but was interrupted by Luke about to pay. "No. I'm paying." I said, smacking his hand away. "Keep the change."

"Thank you. Have a nice date."

I shot him a look and walked away, happy to just get away and have my hotdog. "Bon appetite." I said with a smile.

We both took a bite from the hotdog at the same time and I kept an eye on him to see how he liked it.

Beat.

"This is actually pretty good."

Bingo.

"See, I told ya so."

"You New Yorkers are very passionate about your pizza and hot dogs aren't you?"

"I came here for college. I practically lived off these suckers." I replied.

...

"Can I say something crazy?" Luke asked

"Sure, I love crazy."

"Let's get out of here."

I looked at him skeptically. I've never done anything like this, ever. Just because he's a famous band member does not mean that he's not an insane psychopath. The cute ones are always psychopathic.

Reaching into my purse, I felt my small container of pepper spray near my fingers.

"Okay. Where are we going?"

*******************************************************************************

Author's Note:

Hello readers. It's ME!

I was wondering, do you guys have anything you would like to know about Zelina. I understand that it's still the first few chapters, but if you have any questions, feel free to ask.

Deuces,

-Alexis_08