“What is it?” Simon asked, trying to see if there was anything he could do to keep them together.
“It’s… people,” Louis said slowly, and seeing Simon’s, as well as everybody else’s, questioning glances he continued to elaborate. “I’m sure that you all are nice,” Louis said, motioning to the four others around him that would soon be his band mates, “but I do not want to leave behind other friends. And… I don’t want to miss my shot at love.”
Harry couldn’t help but stifle his laughter. There would be plenty of time for that, he thought. He imagined adoring fans and teenage girls screaming at their concerts. This would be cake.
“Think of the celebrities,” Harry said, half in a day dream.
“And have all of their public opinions and drama added to yours?” Zayn asked, finally seeing Louis’ point. “No thanks.” Simon saw that his band was already losing faith, before they had even attempted to record a song together. Even if he did have their signatures, it was only a matter of time before they revolted against their managers.
“I don’t have anything to worry about,” Liam smiled, sitting back in his chair comfortably, thinking about his girlfriend.
“In case anything goes sour, you should be just as worried as we are,” Niall said to Liam, nodding in Louis’ direction. Just as a full-fledged discussion war was about to go on, Simon raised his hand.
“Don’t you worry,” Simon said to the boys. He hinted a smile, tapping his fingers together. “I predicted this sort of situation, which is why I enrolled you in Match.”
“School?” Harry groaned, resting his head on the back of the chair in defeat. The word ‘enrolled’ was the key word that sparked that sort of discussion.
“Nonsense,” Simon laughed, opening his desk drawer. “It’s a program for celebrities. Or in this case future celebrities.” Zayn’s eyes lit up as he imagined the brilliant future as an icon.
“Wait a minute,” Liam said, leaning forward in his chair. “What do you mean by program?”
“It’s a matching game?” Niall asked Louis, who raised his eyebrows.
“I think he means matching people,” Louis whispered back, smiling as Niall nodded.
Simon stood, in his hands was a Staples Easy Button ©, and he walked to a large, redwood bookshelf. Pressing the red button, the words “That Was Easy” echoed in the room. Confused the band mates looked at each other curiously. The book shelf opened as a door, like one of those old detective movies, revealing a brightly lit hallway. Niall peered in, and then stepped inside. The others followed, with Simon bringing up the rear. Pressing the button once more, the door closed. Simon smiled, leading the way.
“Welcome to the Match Program.”