♫ Life's Melody {1D Edition} ♫

Melody May Millington is a music geek. She's not drop dead gorgeous (at least she doesn't think so), not a member of the cheer squad (she's way too uncoordinated), and never won Prom Queen (not that she went to Prom-- she didn't get invited). She has a past that no one knows. She's always in the background, and doesn't mind it, at all.
Until she meets the wonder that is One Direction.
Will love blossom, or is it all about the music for Melody?
And what about when a jealous best friend enters the picture?
Friendships will be strained, relationships will be tested, and the truth will be revealed.
Read about it all in "Life's Melody {1D Edition}".


5. ♪ "This is It." ♪

Curled up in ball on my bed, I reluctantly reach over and answer my ringing phone, knowing its Brandon on the other line.

“Yes?” I answer meekly, gripping tightly onto the phone.

“Mel? What’s wrong?” Worry is clearly evident in my older brother’s tone, making me feel guilty.

I pit forms in my stomach as I utter the words, “Today’s the day.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” he assures me, crooning into the phone.

“How do you know? I’ve only had two days to rehearse!”

“I know you, Melody. We’ve lived together for the past 17 years,” he reminds me, and I can just imagine him smirking at me.

“I was there, you don’t need to re—”

A loud banging erupts on my door, causing me to drop my phone and shriek. The stranger continues knocking, until I creep to the door and stand on my tiptoes to reach the peephole. It’s just Paul.

“Thank God,” I breathe out, opening the door for Paul.

“It’s time to head to the arena,” Paul informs me.

“But, it’s still morning?”

“Umm… no. It’s nearly 4 PM,” he says cautiously, eyeing me.

My jaw hangs limp; that means I’ve been in my fetal position, agonizing over tonight for nearly the entire day!

“Err, right… I’ll be out in a second.” I close the door and run across the room, jumping straight onto my bed and grabbing my cell.

“Mel? Melody?!” Brandon’s frantic calls float around the room from my phone thrown haphazardly on the comforter.

“Sorry about that, someone was at the door and it frightened me. Listen, I have to go to sound check now, I’ll call you after the concert, yeah?”

“Sounds good to me,” Brandon replies— smacking his lips together for some unknown reason— and disconnecting the call. Geez… love you too, oh dearest brother. Being too lazy to change, I stuff my phone and room card into my pocket, exiting the room exactly as I am— black sweats, striped sweater, hair in a messy bun, make-up free (as always), and I mustn’t forget my glasses— after all, simplicity is key. My luggage was loaded into the bus earlier today; therefore I’m free to leave, only my inner turmoil weighing me down. Taking a deep breath, I lightly kick my converse-clad feet on the carpeted floor of the elevator as Paul fills me in on the evening’s schedule, and then leads me to the parking lot.

All throughout the car ride I stay silent, staring out the window at the unknown. Thankfully, the boys are on their own bus, leaving me in peace. (Trust me when I say it took quite a lot of persuasion to get permission to ride separately; Paul was reluctant to let me out of his attentive sight.) Josh, Sandy, and Dan are somewhere in the back of the bus, assigning who gets which bunk.

“Melody gets first pick, she’s the lady!”

I shrug my shoulders and continue to stare out the window in silence; I could honestly care less about which bunk I get, focusing more on how I’m going to survive these next few hours.

“Come on, Melody, we’re at the arena,” Josh says, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. I take a deep breath and nod shakily, stepping out of the tour bus to deafening shrieks. Our buses are in a separate, protected, lot, yet the fangirls’ shrill cries still pierce through the crisp air— and my ears.  Paul quickly leads the guys and I inside, while the rest of the band stays behind to unload their instruments.

“Boys, you have some quick interviews scheduled. Melody you can wait with me until sound check,” Paul instructs, pushing us all into a room set up with different stations. The boys are paired off and sent to different sections of the room, where they complete various interviews at once. I silently trail behind Paul as he oversees everything, keeping the guys in check, and generally just being very boring. At one point in time, when he’s reprimanding Louis, I contemplate sneaking away to find Josh and seeing if he’s available to keep me entertained, but in the end I back out and stick through the torture— I have a feeling Paul would not be pleased with me if I did leave.

“This is the final interview, and then we’re straight to sound check.”

“Thank the lord,” I whisper under my breath, my shoulders sagging in relief.

“What was that?”

“What? Um… nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, now hurry up and get to your interview,” I snap, impatiently.

“Actually, the interview was just cancelled. Onto sound check now.”

I walk straight to the stage, just as the rest of the band is getting there, since we go onstage before the boys do. I step in time with Josh, smiling at his corny jokes, until I actually step foot on stage.


I wince and swivel around to look at Josh, who’s adjusting the drum set and waving at the girls, from my position; stage-right (left for the audience). There’s not many in the audience; only a couple rows of girls, who must be deluxe V.I.P.  I let my fingers stroke the keyboard as I try to tune out the girls, mentally preparing myself. This is just like any other ordinary practice, just with a few extra members. Josh counts us in and we start to play Use Somebody, much to the liking of the crowd, seeing as they perform their won mixture of screaming and singing, even though the boys aren’t even on stage yet.

Speaking of, I watch Paul’s head peer around the corner, and then Zayn’s arm comes into view. Seconds later, the boys themselves are on stage, and the audience goes berserk. After rehearsing three songs and answering some fan questions they leave, and like that it’s over. Quick and painless; it went by in a flash. If only tonight will be as easy. The boys leave to get dressed for the meet and greet, I, however, stay backstage with Josh, laughing as he tries to impersonate Niall, and actually succeeds.

“Miss, your needed in hair and make-up,” a worker informs me, scowling at the mess Josh and I made in the waiting room. We might have had a bit of an M&M fight…

“Me? Why?”

“I don’t know… Because you were requested for,” she snaps, obviously not in the mood for my inquiry. Well, maybe I’m not in the mood for her attitude.

“Right, sorry,” I mutter, looking down at the carpet.

Wait, what? Where did that come from? I’m supposed to be sticking up for myself!

She purses her lips and nods, leading me away and shutting the door behind me. Stupid, spineless, Melody… I trudge along behind her, silent. Pushing the door open to the make-up department, she leaves with a tap on her clipboard and not a word from her chapped lips.

A young looking blonde woman smiles warmly at me, introducing herself as Lou Teasdale.

“Who’s this cutie?” I ask, reaching towards the baby girl in her arms.

“My daughter, Lux,” she replies, smiling down at her.

“She’s adorable,” I comment, grinning as Lux grabs my pointer finger into her petite hands and laughs.

“Would you like to hold her?” Lou offers.

“Do you mind?”

“Of course not, I let the boys around her all the time; surely you’re better than them! Besides, I’ve got to start getting the lads ready,” she insists, waving her hand in the air dismissively. I extend my arms out, Lou placing Lux into them gingerly.

“Now onto your hair and make-up,” Lou muses, studying my face intently.

I stop bouncing Lux up on my knees and look inquiringly at Lou. “What?”

“It’s my job to prepare you to get on stage!”

“Yes, but no one’s going to pay attention to me. They’re all there for One Direction, not One Direction’s keyboardist,” I protest, pleading at Lou.

She sighs in defeat, “I guess you’re correct; I’ll let it slide this time, but Caroline should be here any minute to dress you.”

I nod, a victorious grin stretched upon my face.

* * *

Dressed in black skinny jeans, a black V-neck, and my black converse, Josh and I are identical, outfit-wise. He squeezes my hand and smiles encouragingly at me, trying to calm me down. I smile in gratitude and try to suppress my shaking hands, hastily dragging them across my thighs to dispel of any moisture. We stand backstage in a group huddle, Matt Lonsdale’s last chord fading out on stage.

This is it.

The moment of truth.

Time to go on stage.

My tight grip on Josh’s arm doesn’t decrease until we part ways on stage— him walking towards his drum set, and I hurriedly crossing the stage to get to my keyboard. The lights dim down and the opening video of the boys at the beach causes the crowd to go into a frenzy, their frantic shrieks getting louder as the timer counts down.


I turn on my keyboard and stretch out my fingers.


I tap my fingers on the keys, silently engaging a last minute rehearsal.


I catch a glimpse of Niall’s blonde hair backstage.


Josh raises his drumsticks in the air, and nods once…


“We’re like Na, na, na!”

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