The End.

For hours it seemed, Harry walked. He walked and walked and walked until he felt he could die a few days early. He asked around, asked if anyone had seen his mates or knew of any way he could catch a plane to England. He asked hopefully and desperately and warily until the words, “I’m looking for my friends, mate, you think you might’ve seen them?” sounded unfamiliar and foreign in his mouth.

When Harry looked in the mirror, he could barely recognize himself. Walking for three days straight had tangled and matted his curly hair and left him with dark circles under his green eyes and parched lips. He thought back to –honestly- not that long ago, when his eyes shined and his hair bounced and he smiled and sang next to his best friends in the world, living his dreams. He felt as if he was living a nightmare these days, and there were still weeks left to endure. Most of all, Harry was lonely. An entire planet running on its last days, and Harry was running alone. Running to find what he had lost, running to what he had left behind.

“Excuse me mate, I’m looking for my friends. Think you might’ve seen them?”

Blinking, scared eyes looked up at Harry, the man’s place on the floor seeming to be his home. Still, he gave the traveler at his doorstep the time of day.

“What do they look like?”

Harry had been asked this question many times before of course, and was now prepared with a One Direction flyer he’d found lying around. Pulling the glossy paper out of his back pocket, he showed it to the man. He scratched his beard and chuckled, noting Harry’s presence on the poster.

“I knew you looked familiar, boy. My daughter used to listen to you.” Mentioning his daughter seemed to have an effect on the wary, light skinned man, and Harry sadly wondered where she was. “No, I haven’t seen any of them. Sorry.”

Sighing, Harry simply thanked the man before folding his identification once more and shoving it back into his jeans.

And so he walked.

It was sunset when he spotted the bar; it was nestled in between an old apartment building and a DVD rental spot, the neon lights calling to him eagerly. To say Harry could use a drink was a severe understatement. Feeling his strength weakening, he trudged into the establishment and immediately ordered a beer and some fries. He chugged the first drink down in minutes, almost swallowed the second one whole, and took polite sips of his third, his eyes glued to the glass rim solemnly.

“What’s your poison?”

With effort, Harry lifted his eyes to the delicate voice that had spoken to him, finding a pretty girl next to him. Of course.

“What?”

“That drink has got to be laced with something, considering the circumstances.” She lifted her own beer and pointedly said, “Boy troubles, you?”

The boys eyes drifted back to the cold glass in his hand, his thumbs rubbing against the condensation on the outside. He shrugged.

“I can’t find my mates.” He said simply, “And I’m trying to find a way home, I’m a bit far.”

“Oh, it can’t be that hard to find them. Don’t you all travel in one direction?” Harry looked up to see her smiling widely, trying not to laugh at her own joke. He chuckled, nodding his head.

“You recognize me, I see.”

“Of course I do. Now which one are you again? Niall?”

He paused. “Harry.”

She smiled again. “I knew that.”

She had caramel skin and thick dark hair that fell well past her breasts roughly, and long lashes and pretty lips and delicate eyes that shone even in these dim lights.

“You seem well chipper for a dying girl,” he noted, his fingers tightening around his drink.

Her smile didn’t last long after that, and it was her turn stare down into her beverage with glossy eyes.

“I’m looking for my boyfriend,” she said quietly. She glanced up at Harry with a small smile, “that’s my poison. He and I were trying out this long distance thing and-” she swallowed the lump in her throat, shaking her head. “I don’t even know what I’m hoping to find. All I know is someone told me there’s this small airport in Virginia that’s still running, and I’m trying to get there. I’m trying to get to him.”

It was quiet. Harry didn’t know what to say but it was okay, there was nothing to say to that. Two lonely people in a dying world, looking for their own company.

’Virginia, Harry thought. It was the last thing he thought, as the fatigue began to pound into him and he found his eyes sinking closed and his head lowering onto the counter.



She was gone when he woke up, and once again he found himself thinking this whole mess was a dream. Hoots and hollers at the 35 year old bar singer ironically crooning “End of the World” told him otherwise. Groaning, he ordered himself one last beer before he left.

“You seem like a good kid,” the bartender said sadly, eyeing Harry appreciatively. Harry half smiled.

“Thank you sir.”

“Take these.” He slid his car keys to him slowly, a sigh escaping from his lips as he did so. Harry looked up at him in confusion.

“Wh-”

“Son, after tonight this bar won’t be open anymore. I’m going to go into the back room and swallow a bullet before some asteroid can do the job. My wife left me, my kids don’t want much to do with me, and I won’t be needing my car anymore. Take it, it’s parked around the corner. Like I said, you look like a good kid.”

Harry was silent for a long time, searching the man’s eyes and only finding calm. Hesitantly, his fingers found the keys and he nodded.

He said quietly, “Thank you mate.” And left.

It wasn’t much, the car. It was an older GMC truck with chipped paint but at the same time it was perfect. Harry hopped in and at first just sat in the driver’s seat.

How far away was Virginia? How long would it take him to get there? Would this airport even still be open by the time he showed up, if there even was an airport. Harry sat in a dead man’s truck and didn’t move for a few minutes.

Flipping on the radio, he found one station still on and began his drive, simply going straight for now.

He had been walking, and walking, and walking, and now he was just driving. Driving himself into oblivion, trying to find some sort of direction from the street signs, but of course they didn't exactly directions to Virginia. He passed Martin Luther King st. and Jefferson ave. and Berry ln. and many just like it, pretty much lost until he saw a familiar white tank top walking on the side of the road.

Slowing down beside her, Harry rolled down his windows and called out to her.

“So, exactly how is a bloke supposed to get to Virginia?”

She smirked, looking from Harry to the road ahead of her and rolling her eyes.

“With a map.”

“Would you happen to have a map, love?”

“In my back pocket.”

Harry leaned back into his seat, breathing deeply and staring at his steering wheel. The girl could do nothing but stare at him, waiting for his next move.

“Why don’t you come with me?” he finally said. “We’re both heading to the same place.”

Smirking, she added, “And I’ve got a map.”

“And you’ve got a map, yeah.”

With a shrug, she opened the passenger door and slipped her backpack off her shoulders, throwing it into the car before climbing in and shutting the door behind her. Harry started to drive again, and it was silent.

“I’m Jasmine, by the way.”

“Jasmine, you wouldn’t have happened to see my mates, have you?”