Isabelle's Point of View

I heard the intercom in my room go off as I walked out of the bathroom. I wrapped the towel around me tighter and walked to my bed as my boss spoke through it. He told me I was needed in his office as soon as possible, which won't be until like 30 minutes.

I grabbed my underwear from my nightstand and put it on, then tossed my towel in the dirty clothes bucket. I went to my closet and grabbed a pair of blue skinny jeans. I pulled them on, wincing as the rough jean material scratched the cut on my thigh. I put on a white t-shirt and then a red and white flannel on. I grabbed a pair of brown combat boots and put them on.

I went in my bathroom and brushed my hair out, pushing it all to one side. I put on some make-up and my intercom sounded again. My boss sounded upset and annoyed that I wasn't in his office by now, but I didn't care. We all knew I was his best agent and he wasn't going to let me go just because I was late.

I walked out of my bathroom, then my room, closing the door behind me. I walked past the other agents room, grimacing as I hear grunts and moans in a few. If you're gonna fuck, do it quietly, especially if you're room is next to like ten other rooms. No one needs to hear you, and nobody wants to hear you.

I walked to the elevator and went to the highest floor. Our boss took the whole floor for his office. I don't understand why he didn't choose the bottom one. He would be able to get out faster if there was any trouble. Sure, he would have more time to prepare, but they can push him out of the fucking window.

I leaned against the wall of the elevator as it went up. You would think there were a lot of floors but you're wrong. It was as big as a small hotel, so like five to eight floors. If it was huge, it would be more noticeable and there would be more attacks towards us. It would bow our cover and the enemies will find us.

I walked out of the box of metal and glass as the door opened up to the floor. I turned the corner and walked up to his door. Unlike other agents, I don't knock on his door. I walk in when I want and how I want. Others have to knock and ask and tell him who they were. He's strict when it comes to it, but he knows for a fact I wouldn't do any of those.

"What took you so long?" the black haired man asked as I closed the door as I walked in. His hands were folded and his eyebrow was raised. His icy blue grey eyes staring me down and his lips were in a tight line.

"You called as I was getting out of the shower." I said in a monotone voice. His lips twitched upwards into a smile and a laugh escaped his lips. I rolled my eyes and I could tell he was mentally picturing me in a towel.

"Anyways, I have another assignment for you." he said after his laughing fit was over. He picked up the papers and and held them out for me. I walked over and picked them up, looked at it. I read the first few sentences as he explained what I was to do and what I had to bring.

"A fucking bodyguard? Are you fucking kidding me?" I asked in disbelief. I'm fine with getting another mission a few days after my old one, but a fucking bodyguard. I can disarm bombs in a minute. I can find poison inside of anything. I can find spy cameras. I can kill twenty men in under ten minutes. And he's setting me up as a fucking babysitter.

"This isn't just keeping an eye on them, Issy. They've been shot at. They've been sent death threats. They've been followed. They're in danger. And your job is to protect them." he said seriously. His arms crossed and set on the desk.

"It's Isabelle. And I'm not babysitting a bunch of stuck up popstars again. I've been there, done that. I want a real mission that can test my skills and will take months, possibly a year to finish. I'm not going to act like a mother to a bunch of rich kids. Get someone else to do it." I said seriously. I put the papers back in his desk and he stood up.

"Isabelle Morales, you will take this job, you have no choice. You will move to Australia where they live and you will keep an eye on them, Your cab will come tomorrow and you will go. You get no say in this." he said. His hands pressed flat against the desk and some veins in his arms were noticeable. His tone was sharp and serious, meaning I really had no say in this.

"I swear to fucking god, if they're like that Justin kid who was really touchy feely with me, I will murder you in your sleep Jones. Because I am not going months with handsy hormonal boys." I said and he rolled his eyes.

"Get packing Morales. Now." he said and I grabbed the papers off of his desk. I walked out of his office and slammed his door. I'm surprised the glass didn't shatter as I knew it was really hard.

I walked to the elevator and pressed the button to go to my floor. As I was waiting, I started reading the paper. It said where they lived, what they do, and what had happened. So one's been shot and they've been stalked out. How amazing. It's Justin all over again.

As the elevator opened up, I walked out of it and groaned as I heard the grunts still. I yelled at them to keep it down and all of a sudden there wasn't any sound. So he or she was watching porn, jesus christ use headphones or something. I walked to my room and slammed the door behind me.

I set the paper on my desk and grabbed the black suitcase from under my bed. I went to my closet and packed my clothes. Skinny jeans and leather jackets. Boots and Vans. T-shirts and underwear.  Sweaters and leggings. Hoodies and shorts. I zipped it up when it got full and set it aside for tomorrow. I wasn't surprised I could carry that much because my suitcase was quite big. I'll pack my other necessities later on today.

I picked up the files again and sat on my bed. I flipped through them and saw a picture. There were four boys, which made me groan. Can't men protect themselves? Like having a girl protect them is such a blow to their pride and self-esteem. It makes it look like they're pathetic boys incapable of protecting themselves.

I rolled my eyes and continued reading. The first boy was Calum Thomas Hood, the band's bassist and singer. He has black hair, tanned skin, and is scottish and kiwi. So he's a fruit? No wonder why he can't protect himelf. His birthday is January 25th and had a sister named Mali-Koa, a mother names Joy, and a father named David.

Next up was Luke Robert Hemmings, their lead singer and rhythm guitarist. Dirty blonde hair, pale-ish skin, and Australian. His birthday was on July 16th and has a brother named Jack, a brother named Ben, a mother named Liz, and a dad named Andrew.

Then it was Michael Gordon Clifford. His hair color said varies and his skin was pale. He was Australian and didn't have a big family. He had his mother Karen and his father Daryl. His birthday was November 20th and he played lead guitar and vocals.

Last was Ashton Fletcher Irwin. He has dark blonde hair, tanned skin, and of course, was Australian. His birthday was on July 7th and has a mother named Anne, a younger sister named Lauren, and a younger brother named Harry. He played drums and vocals in the band, and actually looked like he could protect himself.

I spent the rest of the day looking through the files and planning what I was gonna do. I spent some time piecing some of the information I had together, trying to figure out what they want. I'm sure there is a reason why they're being stalked and hunted down. And I'm planning on figuring it out.