Friday afternoon. Rainy day. Downtown London. Also, the day my life changed.

I was outside a large, concert hall, standing in the torrential precipitation for what I had assured myself would be the greatest day of my existence. Inside this crumbling building, were three of the most precious people in my life, even if they were utterly unaware of the fact. The weather was worse than anticipated. Rain slashed down, hitting my face hard, complimented by a chilling breeze, which sent an excruciating tremor down my entire body every five seconds. I was clutching onto a blue plastic thermos of steaming Miso soup, hoping it would send sufficient heat to my icy blue fingertips, so I could remove the wild strand of hair, which had irritably blown in front of my eye line. This being the day I hoped my life would change, I had carefully considered what I would wear. My new, ultra soft and extremely fashionable Jean shorts fitted me flawlessly, and paired with my chequered, red and black, ruffled shirt; I looked astounding. My shoes were undeniably the highlight of my ensemble. Auburn, ankle high boots, kept my toes snugly covered. Obviously my preparation had not considered the capricious weather. I was stood outside, alone, in the callous winds, with no protection except my damaged, Barbie umbrella.
My body shuddered again, and I glanced up from my huddled position to gaze into the petite taupe eyes of an exceedingly attractive boy. He smiled a perfectly crooked smile, which possibly made my knees tremble - the weather made it difficult to judge the affects of my body. I wretched myself from my hunched position, making my muscles ache as I stretched them out, until I was stood absolutely straight, and still two inches smaller than my brown eyed beauty. As he shook his tresses from the pouring rain, his chocolate coloured ringlets bounced with ease, casting the water from them in every direction. He was wearing a large black coat, which I could effortlessly fit into if offered, and a pair of his legendary red skinny jeans. He also wore his trademark Dog Tag stating his perfectly angelic name. Nicholas Jerry Jonas. I almost gasped just thinking of his name, drifting away from the reality of the situation. He smelt of men, if that was even possible. I took a small pace forward - craving for a better look at his face - observing the lone freckle which lingered on his right cheek. He seemed curious at my persistent staring, and I breathed in a deep inhalation of his manly scent. Closer up, I could smell almost every component. His mint aftershave, loitered around his smooth, speckled neck. His baby pink lips puckered into confusion as I remained fixated on him, taking in every distinctive detail. He cleared his throat, compelling me to look into his bottomless eyes. They could easily be disregarded, not being especially alluring or captivating; but when I looked intensely into them, past the deep bronze tint around the inner pupil, and the lighter almond perimeter, I could see wisdom and creativity.

My english coursework. Re-written about JB. Which do you prefer?

This memory (fictional) or my school memory (also fictional)