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When the boys awoke the next morning, scattered in various rooms around the flat, they were shocked to see that their guest was no longer with them. At least, that’s what they told themselves when they found the borrowed clothes folded neatly on the coffee table. They told themselves they didn’t see it coming, that they didn’t understand why she would leave when they’d told her they were friends. But that was a lie – they knew, from the look on her face, that she didn’t trust them, and that they were not her friends.

Adeline, on the other hand, had known when they finally decided that everyone get some sleep – insisting that she take the bed, and brushing away anything she said about expectations – that she would not be there when they woke. It had barely reached five in the morning when she snuck out of the house with a silence only known to those who have had to lurk in shadows. It was nearly eight when she at last reached Hackney, and the clock tower nearest the abandoned church told her that it was nearly ten when she arrived. With that being said, and with her having told Michael nothing other than that she would be gone for the night, she knew the younger boy would be waiting for her, and she was right. His dark, nearly black, eyes were watching the doorway when she entered, and she did not like the look she saw in them.

"You did it, didn't you?"

Adeline didn't answer. "I brought breakfast."

"Lin!"

"What, Michael? Yes, I did it. Yes, I went to Cal. What was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to let you starve?" It was out of her mouth before she could stop it, and she bit down abruptly on her lip and turned away. Things like that were never said.

"Adeline..." For the first time in a long while, Michael sounded like exactly what he was: a lost, scared, fourteen year-old boy who had been alone for much too long. "Adeline, I don't want you doing that for me. You should only be worrying about you." When the older girl didn't respond, he crossed the floor to her and wrapped his arms around her. This was something else that didn't happen. Things like this couldn't be done, because they had to lie and tell themselves they cared less than they did. That made it easier, sometimes. Someone could only leave and hurt you if you cared for them.

That's why Adeline's response came out as it did - cold, and a lie. "I am. But I'd be une salope to let you starve."

They pretended they didn't both know what she wanted to say: I am doing it for me, because I can't bear the thought of you starving.



The day following the gala - and thus following the introduction of the boys to Adeline - was spent by said boys in the same company as they had kept days earlier in the restaurant. Though it appeared the media had not gotten wind of the type of company they had kept the night before, it became the subject of conversation all the same. This was because, upon finding Adeline gone in the morning, the boys decided that they would like to find her again. That was what they were trying to explain to Simon - their friend, mentor, and guide, as well as an executive of their label - and Paul - their bodyguard and tour manager.

"There is no way - absolutely no way - you boys are going off gallivanting around London in search of a prostitute!"

"But, Paul-"

"You boys must be out of your mind," Simon cut in, speaking for the first time. For the beginning of the impromptu meeting he had done little more than stare at the quintet in shock, certain that he was being Punk'd.

"Simon, listen," Harry said with a sigh, "we know it's crazy. We do. We spent hours talking about just how crazy it was. But we could honestly help this bird, and is that so bad?"

The older man shook his head and looked at the boys across from him with sad eyes. Their faces displayed something he'd rarely seen in them. They were young, and they were wild, and he was used to that. Now, though, they were projecting their seriousness over wanting to help the strange girl from the restaurant while at the same time shining like children in their excitement at the thought.

"Boys," he said slowly, "I believe you. I believe that you want to help her, and I understand, but there are literally thousands of homeless people in London. If you want to make a difference, donate to charity or something, but you have to accept that you can't help everyone."

"We don't want to help everyone," Louis said frustratedly, "we just want to help her."

"What Lou's trying to say," Liam cut in quickly, "is that we know we can't help everyone, but that we have connected with this girl unexpectedly, and we would like to help her somehow."

"We'll do charities," Niall said from his place in the chair. "I think she made us all realize how lucky we are, and we've already talked about doing a charity show of some sort, but in the mean time, we might be able to make a difference for her."

"Why her?" Simon's question stopped them all as they looked back at him.

"Because," Zayn finally said softly. "Because we crossed paths with her twice in two days. That has to mean something, right? Maybe it's fate."

"She doesn't seem to want your help," Paul pointed out, pacing across the room. The boys frowned and cast sideways glances at one another. He was right - she had left. She hadn't trusted them. So they would just have to find her and change that.



"It was different, you know." Adeline's voice was quiet in the still of the church. They had finished the oat porridge she had gotten on her way from Hackney, and they had been sitting in silence for quite some time, enjoying the feeling of being full - or, at the very least, not aching with hunger.

"What was?" Michael asked, but he didn't want to know. He didn't want to know about the things he had done to get their breakfast. He was sure that knowing would make it turn over in his stomach.

"Last night." She paused, staring up at the ceiling as she thought. "There were five boys -"

"Please, Lin, don't -"

"Écoutez, Michael. There were five boys, and they out-bought me from Cal after a man had already decided to take me." Michael was certain he would be sick at the thought. The fact that Adeline could talk about this so easily made his heart hurt.

"They put me in a car," she continued. "A large car, with warm seats and hot air that came through the vents, and I wished you were there with me." Michael didn't. "And then when we reached their home, they spoke of me and made me put on more clothes."

"Lin, I really don't want to - wait, what?"

"Exactement!" Adeline responded quickly. "They kept asking questions and trying to speak. They did not like me changing clothes or touching them."

Michael didn't like her changing clothes or touching them, either, but he bit his tongue and said nothing.

"I think they were rich," Adeline concluded. "I think they were rich and wanted to feel as if they were doing a good deed, and so they took me from the street and pretended they cared about who I was."

"Just like the church workers who used to come through, yeah?" Adeline nodded, even though Michael couldn't see her. A long time ago, when they were both much younger, Adeline remembered the church members who would flock to the poor parts of town with bread and apples and Bibles in hand. They would try and teach the "poor unfortunates" to pray, and then they would give each person two slices of bread and an apple. When they were done, they would leave, back to their warm homes, where they would eat ham and warm vegetables and soups and desserts and talk about how they had made a difference in someone's life.

But they would be sure to wash their hands and their clothes twice that night, because otherwise they would smell like the homeless. And they would be sure to talk about their good deed in their prayers, before they snuggled down into their warm beds and forgot all about the people they'd met.