Golden.

I don’t think I ever caught her name, that girl. For now I guess I’ll call her Sandy, because of the sandy color of her hair. And the sand in her hair.

It’s been two days since the incident. So far things have been absolutely perfect. The days were warm, the nights were cool, the mates and I have been goofing around doing all kinds of things. No regrets, though. Last night, we made a video diary that we promised we’d post for the fans once we get back. And of corse, we made sure we had stairs! They may not have been the same like the X-Factor stairs, and we may have been banned their forever now because of all the chaos we caused, but it was worth it. These are the moments I live for.

I’m especially happy that I get to spend this getaway with the mates. This whole vacation would be nothing without them. And I know we rebelled a little with the management for going on this trip. There were a whole lot of things we needed to go through and fight through just to be here, so I want to spend every single day making sure it’s worth it.

I was by the beach, watching the sunset. The ocean was almost completely orange and red, and slightly yellow at some point. Everything was peaceful. The air was cool and there was a constant breeze blowing my brown curls. I reached for my iPod and listened to “What Makes You Beautiful.” It’s the number one song of ours that I always think of whenever we’re at the beach, because you know, we filmed it at a beach. It brings back a whole lot of great memories with the lads. Then, something disrupted my peace.

Bonk!

“Sh—” I stopped, turning around and realizing it was the little girl again.

“Sorry,” she said, although didn’t look sorry at all.

She started to walk away. “Hey,” I called after her. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Lia,” she said. Then she ran to her parents, who were by the bar, drinking cold watermelon shakes, which looked really refreshing. They walked off, their trail leading to the resort. Apparently, they were staying at the same one I was.

I looked to my right and suddenly Zayn was standing beside me. “So serious,” he said, letting out a little chuckle.

I sighed, looking straight ahead as he took a seat beside me. “Hey, Zayn. How do you think things will be when we get back?”

He laughed and rubbed his face. “Thinking about that actually stresses me out.” I laughed with him. “But you know,” he continued. “Like I always say: Just close your eyes and enjoy the rollercoaster—”
“—that is life,” we both said. Then we both burst into laughter. Oh, typical Zayn and all of his cheesy life quotes. One of the reasons why I love him.
I punched his arm. He punched me back, and we laughed again. We did our secret handshake.

“So what’s her name?” Zayn asked.

I looked at him. “What?”

“The little girl. What’s her name?” He looked at me blankly. The sun was going down, quickly, and soon enough the darksky was towering above us. I started walking.

“Lia.” The sand was cold, and so was the wind blowing. “She’s pretty strange. She doesn’t act like normal kids.”

“You mean, she doesn’t whine and scream and fangirl about boybands?” Zayn chuckled. “I mean us.” We both laughed again. “Be careful, then.” He shoveled his hands into his pockets and looked down at the ground.

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

He paused and took a breath. “Ha, you know how those things happen in the movies? When you hang out with someone and you become so attached and when something goes wrong, you can’t move on.”

“She’s a ltitle girl—I’m not in love with her!” I said defensively. I’m not. I barely even know her.

“Don’t get defensive! And this isn’t love. It’s attachment. It happens. No matter how young or old, no matter how near or far, attachment happens everyday. It’s real; it happens.”
Zayn was being all cheesy again. But then again, he was right.

Silence fell over us, except for the waves that crashed and the noises of the rest of the people on the beach. Zayn was speaking words of truth, or at least, words of intellect. I’m not agreeing with him, but it does make a lot of sense. It’s real; it happens. Although I really doubt that’s going to happen. Me, get attached to a little girl. Big joke. She isn’t even all that nice.

“I’m just warning you. You don’t wanna get hurt. Don’t get attached.”

- -

On the way back to the hotel, it was pretty dark. Only the lights of the pool and the bars helped guide me on my way back to the front entrance. The lobby was pretty well lit, more than I can remember. The subtle yellow and white lights, and the cold atmosphere all around.

We’ve only been here a few days and we already know a whole bunch of the staff. Us One Direction boys, I’d like to believe we’re really friendly. We get along with just about anybody (well probably except for me with that little girl).

And it’s nice to know too, that since people don’t know us around here, they like us for who we are. For Liam Payne, the lad from Wolverhampton: feeling-mature (haha, totally kidding), more responsible, down-to-earth and got the most trained voice among us all; Zayn Malik, the so-called “Bradford bad boy”: a little shy, but crazy once he lets loose, the echo-master, the romantic; Niall Horan, the leaping Irish boy: obsessed with food and will never not be, Justin Bieber-lover, soccer player; Louis Tomlinson, lad from Doncaster: the goof, the ultimate comedian, fun and caring; and of course, me, Harry Styles, lad from Cheshire: cheeky, sweet, crazy, and incredibly handsome. Oh yeah.

The front entrance guards, the twins—Stephen and Jones, always greet us when we come in. We’ve got our own seven-way secret handshake, which usually causes a hold up in the entrance. Took us about an hour and a half to think of and perfect.

Then there are the regular front desk people. Mike is one of our greatest friends among the hotel staff. He’s a few years older than us, so he’s sort of like a big brother. His role is more of the “go-to” guy. I don’t know exactly what he handles because I seee him handling almost everything. He’s trustworthy and helpful; if there’s something you need—anything at all—Mike is your perfect guy. He was actually the reason why we weren’t charged for causing chaos in the stairway when we recorded our video diary.

Then there’s Alicia, who answers the phones. She’s around thirty, and desperate. She keeps telling me I’m “yummilicious”, if that makes any sense at all. She’s not exactly a cougar, well, not on a regular basis. No, I’m totally teasing. She just needs a man. Those were her exact words: “I just need a man.”

Mike was on the phone when we walked up to the front desk. All of us were together this time, because we were on our way to have dinner. He put up his finger, signaling that he’ll be done in a minute. Alicia was sending me flirty looks again, the boys chuckled and nudged my arm as I rolled my eyes and laughed.

I noticed there was a girl sitting on one of the couches, reading “Pride and Prejudice”. She had sandy brown hair and blonde highlights. I know that because Alicia has been blabbering for the past few days about how she wants her hair to be that way. The girl shifted in her seat and continued reading. I could see her eyes were pretty big, despite the fact that she was looking down at her book.

Mike finally got off the phone. He walked up to us at the counter. “What’s up, guys?”

“Not much,” Niall said. “We are pretty hungry, though.”

“Mostly Niall,” Louis chimed in, laughing.

I never took my gaze off the girl. “But, uh…who’s that?” I nudged my head to her direction.

Mike leaned over the counter so he could see clearly. Then he looked at me darkly. “No.” He paused. “No, no, no, no, no.”

“Absolutely not,” Liam said with a stern face.

“Harry.” Zayn shot me a look.

Louis chuckled. “Definitely not.”

Niall poked me. “I’d allow you to date food, but not her.”

I looked at them incredibly confused. “What’s wrong?”

Mike took a deep breath. “That,” he said slowly, as he motioned to the girl. “That is Cassandra Walden.”

I moved my head and squinted my eyes. “Who? And how does everyone know her but me?” I scowled.

Liam looked around as if he were spilling some sort of top-secret thing. “Cassandra Walden? Walden. Daughter of Tom Walden, Creator of Walden Manor, this Manor?” He leaned forward. “Ring any bells? One, at least?”

My eyes grew. “She’s the daughter? Woah.” I looked back at her. She was still reading the same page of her book. Must be really intoxicating to read Pride and Prejudice—in the summer.

I tapped on the counter and started to take a few steps away.
Everyone freaked out. Mike jumped from behind the counter and landed on me; I ended up sprawled on the floor. Niall and Liam were tugging at my legs, Zayn and Louis had my arms, and Mike had me in a headlock. “You can’t do this, Harry! Not to her! It’s way too dangerous!” Mike whispered in exasperation and desperation.

“Get off of me, guys! I need to make my move!” I shifted and I was able to match their strength, but with five guys tugging at your limbs, it’s almost impossible.

Mike shifted. “No!” Mike whispered. “She’s the daughter. I am not going to let you ruin this for everyone—for the staff!”

Everyone had their eyes on us, I could feel it. And when I looked up, even Cassandra had her eyes on us. I smiled, yet still being tackled by five guys. “Hey.” I smiled.

She half-smiled and shook her head. I watched her as she got up, packed her things, and walked away. She passed us and clicked the elevator button. Everyone finally got off of me. Mike straightened up his suit, which got a little crumpled and messed up because of our fight. I ruffled my hair and straightened my shirt.

“Thanks,” I said. I stared at Cassandra until she walked inside the elevator.

“Anyone,” Mike said. “Anyone but her, Harry. You’re going to put everyone’s careers in jeopardy if you mess this up.”

“And for us! We might just get kicked out and banned from this entire island if you mess things up!” Louis said.

I gaped. “Who says I’m going to mess things up?”

Liam gave me a look. “Listen to yourself.”

“Thank you for the faith, guys.” I rolled my eyes.

They all smiled. “Your welcome.” Louis put his arm around me and messed up my hair as we all walked back to the counter to do a little catching up. Just like brothers.