Okay, I’m debating whether or not to leave this as a one-chappie fic, so I’m going to decide by the response I get. If I get (being totally unrealistic here) twenty reviews, then I’ll think of more chappies, okies? Peace out! Zee xxx

      Yesterday was a day like no other. So many things happened in such a short space of time that I can barely believe it was reality.
      Why do I feel like this? Because I’ve just been out with none other than Paul Marazzi. That guy from that boy band? A-something? Yes, really! If you watched that award show, that record of the year thing last night. The red head next to him? The one who’s bright pink freckled face clashed so horridly with her hair and the red and purple outfit she had on? That’s me. I know what you’re all thinking now, what did he see in her, why her and not me, how long have they been together and stuff. Don’t worry, I’m not that lucky, not so lucky that I’m still with him. It was a one night thing. Not a one night stand or anything like that, just one night for the ceremony. A trophy thing if you will.
      It all started yesterday morning. Hazel decided to drag me shopping in London so we could splash some of her birthday cash. I’d been given the day off work so I could go with her, and blow some of my own cash. Anyway, somehow we ended up in this cute little back street hippie shop in the depths of Camden, and Hazel decided to have this fashion parade of all the ponchos and jeans and gypsy tops and flow-y skirts that were in there. I had just put on this pair of tan suede trousers, with a tan waistcoat and red shirt, and come out to grab a cowboy hat when I heard it. His voice.
      “Anything new in stock Sapphire?”
      Sapphire isn’t her real name, but owning a hippie shop, she decided to make it outrageous. Yeah, naming it after a stone is really outrageous. But that voice, it was . . . wow. So high, yet so masculine and so soft and gentle with a hint of a growl underneath. I had to look at the owner, he sounded fit, and I wanted to make sure he was actually fit before I started flirting for England. He was hidden behind all the pairs of jeans piled up, so whoever it was must have been short. Also, they had to be looking at the jewellery. So I made my way all casually to the front, acting as though I wanted a decent pendant to go with my costume before Hazel decided she was ready. That girl always takes forever. Anyway, bending over all the smiley faces and green peace signs, I looked over to my right where he was standing. And he was looking straight at me, smiling slightly. He was so obviously trying not to laugh at me as I bent over, bum stuck in the air, trying to pretend I couldn’t see him. I straightened up.
      “Hi” I smiled, pretending I’d not noticed him before.
      “Howdy” he said back, his attempts not to laugh becoming more evident. I realised that I must have looked like a right idiot, standing there dressed as a cowgirl. But I like dressing up in the hippie shops. I couldn’t wait for Hazel to come out; she’d grabbed this long flow-y dress and denim waistcoat, with pointy boots and pink-tint sunglasses. This guy was going to have a field day. Come to think of it, now I was openly checking him out, he looked really familiar. Had he gone to the Beatles tribute concert last week? I couldn’t remember. He had beautiful brown hair, with a blond streak running through, and a piercing on his nose, lip, and ear. I caught his eye for a moment before he took another look at my outfit, and noticed they were a wonderful green-y colour, and so deep and friendly. He was in this hippie-like shirt, tight jeans (very tight, with a nice little bulge may I add), and a black leather jacket. We made eye contact again, and he was trying not to laugh.
      “I um, I don’t normally dress like this” I said softly, trying to stop my face turning me into a replica of a fruit salad sweet. He nodded, but even in his eyes I could tell he wanted to laugh. “Go on, out with it, I’m sure you’ll damage yourself if you don’t laugh” I muttered, my willpower having no effect on the way my blood flows and turning my face into a lovely tomato colour anyway.
      “I’m not that rude! I’m trying to control it . . . you really do see every sort in London dontcha?”
      “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked indignantly, not sure I liked this guy anymore. He shrugged.
      “It was better than me laughing wasn’t it? Look, I’m sorry. Wanna start again? I’m Paul, and you are?”
      He held out his hand as he spoke, and I shook it.
      “My name’s Carina, most people call me Ri though”
      “Okay, but I’m not most people. Carina sounds prettier. So, um, you going to a costume party or something?”
      “No, just a little bored, so I’m dressing up”
      “Don’t let Sapphire hear that, she’ll expect you to pay for what you’re wearing. So you like those necklaces then?”
      “They’re okay. What are you doing in here anyway?”
      “Wanted a new stud for my lip. Got a big dinner to go to and I want it to look good”
      At that moment, Sapphire came out with a huge tray of studs for Paul to look through. She sneered at me, tutting as I was wearing her goods, while Paul smiled at me, before turning and picking out a stud. I walked away, and then doubled back quickly.
      “It was nice to meet you Paul” He looked up and smiled.
      “You too Carina” He winked, then turned back to the tray, and I made my way over to Hazel, taking off the hat and waistcoat quickly. I changed into my regular jeans and shirt and sneaked the clothes back on the racks before Sapphire could turn and yell at me. I heard Hazel moan behind me as I finished hanging the clothes up.
      “Ri, we were supposed to make up a dodgy costume!”
      “Sorry Hazel, but this really amazing guy saw me like it, and warned me not to unless I wanted to face the wrath of Sapphire”
      “Really amazing guy? Girl, I need details!”
      “Keep your voice down, I think he’s still in here, don’t embarrass me even more than I already embarrassed myself!”
      She dropped her voice to a whisper.
      “I still need details Ri”
      “Well, he’s about our height, he’s called Paul, he has the most amazing voice, loads of piercings, and even though he wears leather, he makes it look good”
      “Alright for some isn’t it? Did you get his number?”
      His number? Dammit, I forgot to get his number!!!
      “Crap, no! Is he still here?”
      Hazel stood on tiptoes and looked around.
      “No, only Sapphire’s around and looking at us as though we’re about to shoplift”
      Double dammit! We put Hazel’s outfit away, then snuck out to the pizza shop around the corner. Very few people know about this place, which is good for me and Hazel, they do the most amazing pizza’s, we never want to have to queue to get in there. We had just sat down and placed our orders when Hazel gasped, and signalled me too lean over.
      “Ri, that guy over there, he fits the description of your amazing guy . . . what did you see in him?” I turned and saw Paul on his own, reading something and tucking into a slice of pizza. Wait, what did I see in him? Has Hazel no taste?
      “Hazel, he’s gorgeous!”
      “Go and talk to him then. Get his number”
      “I can’t do that, he looks like he doesn’t want to be disturbed”
      Hazel rolled her eyes, then called over to him.
      “Excuse me, Paul?” he looked up, confused that anyone would know him. Hazel signalled for him to come over as I buried my head in my hands. I can’t believe Hazel sometimes!
      “Um, yes? What is it?” That gorgeous voice asked.
      “Oh, my friend here, Ri, said you’d chatted earlier, and well, she was kicking yourself for not getting your number”
      I looked up and her and gave her a look I hope said to her ‘I’ll kill you later, you evil cow’. Paul cut the look short though when he recognised me.
      “Oh, Carina, yeah, hi” he smiled, and then pulled a chair up as a waiter brought his things over. “I meant to ask you something but I forgot after you walked away, and realised just after I got in here”
      “Really? What were you going to ask?”
      “You know the big dinner I mentioned? Well, I need a date for it, and my boss has been on at me for not having one. You’re the first girl I’ve come across that I’d want there with me, so would you want to go? It’s okay if you don’t, I can understand why, I mean, I’m not exactly the most attractive guy in the world, and you’d probably take one look at my mates and think ‘why can’t I be with them’-”
      I cut him off.
      “I’d love to, seriously. When is it?”
      “Tonight, about seven-ish. Give me your address and I’ll pick you up” I smiled and scribbled my address on a napkin. He whistled a deep, sad whistle.
       “That’s a long way out. Tell you what, I’ll buy you an outfit and you can get changed around mine. Would that be okay?”
      Okay? That was more then okay. Oh my god, I had a date tonight and I wasn’t even planning on getting any flirting done today. Hazel gave me an odd look.
      “It’s okay with me, but Hazel might not be so alright with it, we came together and we’re supposed to leave together really”
      Paul turned to Hazel, who was insisting on giving him the evil eye. He sighed.
      “Hazel, can I take your friend out with me, and treat her to loads of things as a thanks for digging me out of a hole I put myself in, please?” He sounded so sad, and I could tell he was pulling a sad face to win her over. She sighed.
     “Okay, but behave yourself, I know what your type are like” She looked at me “I’m going home now, there’s no point in staying around if you’re going off with your new man” She got up and left the restaurant before either of us could complain.
      “I didn’t mean to drive your friend away,” He said quietly, looking a little shocked.
      “I know, she’s gotten herself into one of her moods . . . what did she mean by your type though?”
      A wave of understanding crossed his face, but he shrugged anyway.
      “My good Italian-Indian looks?” he suggested, smiling. I smiled back, and split the rest of the pizza with him, knowing it was going to make me bloat out but doing it anyway. He insisted on paying, and took me down to Bond Street to get some clothes for that night. He found me this gorgeous red dress with purple lace roses everywhere.
      “I reckon you should wear this, it’ll go really well with that red hair of yours” he smiled. Wow, that smile! It lit him up, seriously. And it was having a similar effect on me. I loved the attention he was paying, to every little detail. He was finally satisfied, and so was I, by about half four, and suggested going home there and then to get ready. Halfway to his flat however, he stopped.
      “You don’t have any make up!”
      “I do, it’s in my bag,” I said, he had really made me jump so I hope that calmed him down a little. He smiled at me, and took my hand as we walked the rest of the way to his flat. It was in there that I realised why I had recognised him earlier. I was wondering through to the lounge when I saw a photo of him and three other guys I also recognised with some Japanese people. I recognised his friends too. But I couldn’t remember where I’d seen them before.
      “Paul? Who are these people?”
      “Well, that’s Ben, that’s Mark, that’s me with a different hairstyle and that’s Chris. The girls . . . well, I don’t know them that well. It was a one time thing I think”
      He shrugged, and went into his room, telling me to use the bathroom to get ready. I went into the cramped room and set about getting ready. Where had I seen the four of them before? I don’t watch much TV or read many magazines, so he couldn’t have been from them. I really had no idea who he was. They were. I felt weird asking him, we’d only just met and it would be a little rude. But if they were at this dinner thing then maybe I should ask. I was dwelling on it for a while but then I realised I should get ready as Paul would need the room too. I got out about quarter to six and saw him standing there. He breathed out slowly.
      “Wow, you look great”
      “Thanks. So do you”
      He laughed.
      “I’ve not changed yet”
      “Doesn’t stop you looking amazing though”
      He gave me a little peck on the cheek.
      “That’s really sweet of you. Okay, my living room’s over there, you can put on the TV or watch a video or something while I change, okay?” I nodded, and walked in the direction he was pointing, and sat down. He seemed to be rushing, because fifteen minutes later he appeared, looking ready to go.
      “Come on then, we’re going to be late otherwise!” He grinned, and held out his arm for me to take. I took it and walked outside with him, where there was a car waiting. Correct that, a limo. A limousine? What the hell did he do? I should really have found more out about him before I agreed to this. He saw the look on my face and squeezed my hand.
      “It’s okay you know”
      “I know . . . what kind of dinner is this?”
      “Well, it’s not so much a dinner, more like . . . an awards ceremony”
      “Award?”
      “Yeah, record of the year. Have you heard of it before?”
      I nodded, dumbstruck. This guy was in a band? It must have been on TV that I saw him . . . no, wait, I remember now. Hazel and I went into Oxford Street’s Virgin records the day his band was doing a signing. Not intending to get his record, looking for more Beatles stuff. It’s the only decent music there is. I climbed into the car with him and he promptly introduced me to his friends. They were really sweet and friendly, as were the girls with them. It began to dawn on me that I was only here for Paul to look good, but I said nothing about it. I really like the guy, if he needed me I wanted to be around for him. He kept hold of my hand all throughout the car journey, and listened as his friend Mark started talking to me about music and junk. He really knows what he’s talking about, and when I said I liked the Beatles, he practically exploded with all the things he had to say. I’ve never seen so much enthusiasm come from one human being, but everyone around us seemed indifferent, and I took it to mean he was always this excitable. I started to wish Hazel was with me, she would have loved to come, I’m sure. I bet when she said she knew Paul’s type she was referring to him being in a boy band. The journey seemed to fly by, and before I knew it the eight of us who had been in the limo were now being swept up a red carpet, camera lights flashing everywhere. Paul, being the only guy I really knew, insisted I stuck close to him, and I was only too happy to do so. I wasn’t really comfortable being there, I had agreed to go with Paul because I thought we had gotten on well, not because I was going to get cameras in my face. We eventually got inside the building and spent ages looking around for the right room. Paul led me a little way from the group.
      “Are you okay?”
      “Yeah, I just wish you had told me about the cameras before, I didn’t know that was going to happen”
      “Sorry. Look, there won’t be any more cameras, except for the TV cameras. Will you be alright with that?” I nodded, and he smiled, and then gave me another peck on the cheek.
      “Come on, let’s find the others and the right studio” He led me off again. We found the right table and sat down, and the ceremony began. I really don’t remember much of it, except for Paul’s reactions to the songs being sung by everyone else, and his reactions as everyone else’s songs were voted. I remember his performance too; he kept his eyes on me the entire time he was up on stage. Even though they aren’t the Beatles, they’re still pretty good. He did find time to speak to me though, he kept checking that I was okay, and having a good time, and occasionally giving me little pecks on the cheek when he thought they were necessary. He was incredibly sweet, and I was glad for everything he was doing for me. The ceremony seemed to end to soon, although for us it was a great night. Their single, ‘Isn’t it cheap’, won the competition, so all four boys were intent on getting as drunk as possible to celebrate. Their manager stopped us before we could go off and have a party.
      “Boys, don’t forget, the ceremony’s over now”
      Paul looked at me oddly. What did their manager mean by that? We knew it was over, they had won. Paul dragged me away from everyone else for a private word.
      “I’m going to get a car to drive you to the station okay? Tim said you can’t celebrate with us, that ‘coz I only asked you for the ceremony I’d better not have you do anything else. I’m sorry, I feel like such an evil bastard to do this to you, I feel like I used you, but I’d rather not piss off my manager all the same”
      I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The evening had gone by so quickly and now it was definitely over. I sighed heavily, trying not to cry.
      “Can I at least have your number? So I can call you sometime?”
      He looked really regretful as he shook his head.
      “That could annoy Tim too. Look, I am sorry, I wanna keep seeing you but I don’t think I’ll be allowed”
      His manager called for him then, looking really agitated.
      “Bye Carina. It was great to spend the night with you” He gave me a proper kiss, not like those pansy pecks on the cheek he’d been giving me all night, then turned and followed his manager out of the door. I looked at the other two girls who were standing around after the boys left. Only Mark’s date had gone off with them.
      “It feels weird now, doesn’t it?” Phillipa, Ben’s date, said. I nodded, and Naomi, who’d been with Chris, looked ready to burst into tears. Our limo driver approached us then, and offered us rides home. We all accepted gratefully.
      “You girls shouldn’t worry. They did like you, but they aren’t really allowed to see people so they had to leave you in the lurch like that” The limo driver said, in an attempt to be helpful. It didn’t help though; all it did was drive Naomi to actually start crying. We all swapped numbers, and agreed to call each other, not sure exactly what had gone on. I was first out of the limo, and told them both I’d ring them the next day. It felt really weird though, like a sped up relationship. One day had gone by and I’d met Mr. Perfect. Too bad I was only an award to him.