My new converse coated feet trod along the path of Southbank on a warm afternoon. My blonde hair whipped out behind me when gusts of wind swept past, and I pulled my coat tighter around me as I kicked through a small heap of leaves. Autumn was upon the world and everyone I saw had scarves and gloves wrapped around them to fight off the biting chill. Leaves were falling from the branches of trees. Eventually the trees would stand naked.

The wind was calming as I was approaching the London Eye. The sun poked out from behind a cloud and shone a haze of light over the city. I decided to stop walking and lean against the brick wall which protected people from plunging onto the stones beside the Thames. I rested my arms against the wall, crossed one foot over the other, and took a deep breath. The smell of autumn air is my favourite smell. For a moment I closed my eyes, until the sun began to send waves of blurry orange beneath my eyelids. Ten, perhaps fifteen minutes passed while I stood here.

A man wearing a long black coat and stylish brown shoes stood beside me just as a seagull was passing a boat on the river. I acknowledged him as he did me; a brief glance and a small smile. He had dark wavy hair which was fluttering over his green eyes. He had a nice face, the kind you would see in a magazine as a model for men's fashion. I looked back over the river, feeling a small sensation in my stomach, for the simple reason that an attractive man and I had shared eye contact and a smile. Another boat passed by and the man got out his iPhone. He raised it at arm's length before him and seemingly took a photo of the horizon in front of us. This reminded me to check Instagram, to which I was slightly addicted. I clicked open my phone by entering the four-digit password and opened the app. Coincidentally, there was a photo of Southbank waiting for my appreciation on the homepage. It was captioned 'it's a lovely afternoon.' to which I could only agree. The wind was gentle and the sun was shining surprisingly brightly for an autumn afternoon. Occasionally a bird would whistle in the trees behind me and another would reply immediately. Studying the photo further, I noticed the view it had captured was the one before me now. I squinted at it until realising it must have been uploaded by the man standing next to me.

He coughed and slid his phone back into his pocket. That was when I noticed the username. My heart started beating in double time as I realised the man in the black coat and stylish brown shoes standing next to me was PJ Liguori.

PJ shuffled his feet left to right, gathering up a group of leaves. I starred at his feet. I didn't know what to say. PJ is my favourite content creator, my idol. To be standing next to him was unbelievable.

"Excuse me?" I said, as calmly as I could manage. It probably wasn't very calm.

He turned to look at me. His eyes were so beautiful; two seas of bottle green. A polite smile fell across his face as he answered 'yes?'.

"Er…" I hadn't thought of what to say next. Oh god.

PJ looked at me with a polite expression, yet it was clear he was thinking I was crazy. He thinks you're crazy, he thinks you're crazy. Just say something.

"Do you like your ham thickly sliced?" I said in a deep voice, quoting a line from one of his videos.

You're an idiot.

I looked hopefully into his eyes that he would realise I was quoting his own words, and wasn't just some sort of insane girl he had never met asking about his preferences in ham.

He blinked. Then a smile crept up across his face and he started to laugh. I laughed too, ducking my head down to hide my blushing cheeks. When I looked up again he was smiling at me.

"You watch my videos."

PJ was speaking directly to me. Not me amongst thousands of others when he uploads a video. Just me.

"Yeah."

I couldn't stop smiling. This was honestly like a dream. I wanted to tread carefully in case I woke up.

"It's nice to meet you. What's your name?"

"Daisy. Hey."

"Hey!"

He held out his hand and I shook it. My hand felt like it had been electrocuted with warm sensations as I touched his skin. Watching his videos at home, I always imagined what it would be like to meet him. Now it was happening my mind was all over the place. I noticed my hands were shaking slightly and I shoved them deep into my pockets to hide them.

I opened my mouth to speak to him, but as I did so a huge crack of thunder clapped across the sky. We both looked upward and instantly got water in our eyes, as rain had began to pour down to the ground. My clothes were soaked in an instant, as were his. I gasped in shock as the cold swept over me.

"Come on!" PJ said loudly over the splashes of water cascading down on us. He ran and I followed him. We ran together, our feet clapping loudly onto the wet pavement. People all around us were running to escape the rain too, ducking under umbrellas, which were doing little good, or finding a nearby shop in which they could hide.

PJ was a very fast runner, but luckily so was I. My feet kept up with his reasonably well. I squinted to avoid rain water getting into my eyes as we continued to run. A minute later we came to a small coffee shop on the corner of the road, and PJ took hold of my hand and lead me inside. We were standing in a small porch with deep red brick walls and wooden floorboards. There was a wooden seat along one of the walls on which stood a large ceramic mug, with writing on it that said The Little Coffee Place.

"Phew." I gasped, slightly out of breath.

PJ's hair was a deeper shade of black because of the rain, and strands of it were clinging to his forehead. He swept them away with the back of his hand. There were droplets of water speckled across his face and down his neck. One fell from his eyelashes as he looked down at his wet jeans. I tried hard not to stare.

"I'm sorry about that. Forcing you with me, I mean. You just seemed nice; I didn't want to just run away from you."

I smiled.

"Not even when I asked you if you liked your ham thickly sliced?"

"Not even then, no."

We shrugged off our wet coats and hung them up on some coat pegs. I patted my hair and found that it had risen atop my head in a maze of blonde mess. It always went frizzy when wet, typical. I flattened it as best I could by raking my fingers through it.

"Do you want to go inside?" he asked me.

I nodded. And then PJ Liguori and I stepped inside The Little Coffee Place.