On the Run
Harry Styles
A backpack strapped onto his back, Harry walked through one of Mexico’s market, being pummeled by children begging him to buy their trinkets. He smiled at as many of them as he could, but shrugged them off, because he had no use for spinning tops or sombreros. On second thought, a sombrero might be the perfect thing to mask his trademark curly hair.
“I’ll take your finest sombrero,” Harry said, looking down at a small dark boy with a smile. He grinned at Harry and asked for a few pesos, which Harry quickly gave him. Soon, Harry’s hat was topped with a perfectly weaved straw sombrero, which not only served as cover up, but also as shade from the sweltering sun.
When the group split up, he was nervous to be alone at first, but decided he was much better off than those that went in pairs. Alone, it was easier to hide and he only had to worry about himself, but he couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.
With the sun at his back and the scent of churros filling his nose, Harry made his way further into the market, looking for any place he could sleep for the night. He was determined to get as far away from The Viche as he could, but he had another night before his flight left for northern China and he had to kill that time in hiding.
The last thing he needed was to be spotted just hours before he left the continent.
He pulled his backpack higher up on his shoulder as he turned a corner, spotting a motel in the distance. It was rugged and run down, sure to be cheap, and it would be the perfect place to hide for the night.
The sun was beginning to set in the sky, giving Harry the perfect cover. Making his way through the crowds of people, he headed towards the motel, more than ready to head in for the night.
He approached the front desk, greeting the women with a Spanish hello, and paid for a single room until the morning.
The moment he stepped foot in that room, he slipped his backpack off and collapsed onto the bed, the stress of the day toppling over him. He was used to living life with The Viche, always having that thought in the back of his mind that one day he might be killed, but he never thought it would become reality. And there he was, hiding from the people he had once worked for. He was just thankful he’d never trusted them with any of his secrets.
They knew nothing about him outside of his name. They didn’t know that he’d always had a backup plan or that he knew exactly where to go if he needed to hide. He was going to be better off without them; he just had to make his way to the mountains of Asia, where he would have all the cover that he needed.
“I’ll take your finest sombrero,” Harry said, looking down at a small dark boy with a smile. He grinned at Harry and asked for a few pesos, which Harry quickly gave him. Soon, Harry’s hat was topped with a perfectly weaved straw sombrero, which not only served as cover up, but also as shade from the sweltering sun.
When the group split up, he was nervous to be alone at first, but decided he was much better off than those that went in pairs. Alone, it was easier to hide and he only had to worry about himself, but he couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.
With the sun at his back and the scent of churros filling his nose, Harry made his way further into the market, looking for any place he could sleep for the night. He was determined to get as far away from The Viche as he could, but he had another night before his flight left for northern China and he had to kill that time in hiding.
The last thing he needed was to be spotted just hours before he left the continent.
He pulled his backpack higher up on his shoulder as he turned a corner, spotting a motel in the distance. It was rugged and run down, sure to be cheap, and it would be the perfect place to hide for the night.
The sun was beginning to set in the sky, giving Harry the perfect cover. Making his way through the crowds of people, he headed towards the motel, more than ready to head in for the night.
He approached the front desk, greeting the women with a Spanish hello, and paid for a single room until the morning.
The moment he stepped foot in that room, he slipped his backpack off and collapsed onto the bed, the stress of the day toppling over him. He was used to living life with The Viche, always having that thought in the back of his mind that one day he might be killed, but he never thought it would become reality. And there he was, hiding from the people he had once worked for. He was just thankful he’d never trusted them with any of his secrets.
They knew nothing about him outside of his name. They didn’t know that he’d always had a backup plan or that he knew exactly where to go if he needed to hide. He was going to be better off without them; he just had to make his way to the mountains of Asia, where he would have all the cover that he needed.