Jolly Holiday

Shelbie was a fashion designer. Very low key, living in upper Manhattan with her junkie brother. Then she got her big break. And that big break, went by One Direction.


3. Aggravation

Whoever had the ingenious idea of putting five teenage boys into tuxedos deserved to be slaughtered. It had been one big production with all five of them. We had all five been stuck in a tiny trailer for the duration of Thursday afternoon, furiously trying to work our way through every single costume change that I had figured out thus far. Saying that it had turned out to be a royal mess would be an understatement. Between Louis' flirtatious quips and Niall's incessant need for food, it had turned into an absolute nightmare.

Now here I stood, hopelessly wrestling with Liam's supposedly tear-away dress shirt. The thing was at least two sizes too small and my order had gotten mixed up, so instead of the freaking Velcro sides that I had ordered, they came in perfectly hemmed. The rest of the boys managed to fit into their rather nicely. They did look rather dashing.

It had turned into quite an ordeal. We looked like something out of a three-ring Circus as I furiously tried to yank the shirt over his head. I was on a time restraint after all. We were due on the road in five days and I had just as many costumes that still had to be fitted.

"Hold still!" I grumbled. With the help of Zayn, who was the only one able to keep his laughing fit in check (the other three were doubled over on the floor in a fit of hysterical laughter), I somehow managed to weasle the grament up over Liam's head. I cringed as I heard the undeniable snap of the hem coming unravelled, "Dammit," I mumbled under my breath. I knew what that meant. More work for me. I was going to have to find time to hem a completely new costume for Liam.

"Sorry." he muttered. I could tell he was embarrassed. The poor boy wasn't heavy by any means. I guessed from the very beginning that he was the more self-conscious of the group though. And of course I'd been right. What can I say? I have a sixth sense.

"It's not your fault," I said, trying to keep my emotions in check. I felt like I was about to blow a gasket, but I couldn't show that. It would be unprofessional, "Okay, here's what we'll do. You four go back to whatever it was you were doing before I called you in here," I shooed, "Liam, you stay in here and I'll get you fitted for another costume." Just like that, four of the boys came charging from the room like bats out of Hell.

I ran my hands through my ginger hair a few times, trying to recompose myself. I couldn't blow up on Liam. He seemed jittery as it was. Why was it that when he was with the others he seemed so chill? Was it me? Was I really that scary?

"I really am sorry." he said again, once the door had clicked behind the other band members, "I really didn't mean for that to happen."

"Really, it's fine." I muttered, pulling out my tape measure again. I'd be making this one myself, so it wouldn't be messed up this time.

"Can I make it up to you?" he asked. Geez, for a pop star, he was a little too worrisome. It was kind of adorable, but... Gods I really needed to put a filter on what went through my head. Why couldn't I just be indifferent about these damn boys? Is it really that hard? I mean, a hundred other crewmembers managed to do it!

"No, really it is absolutely fine. I've had worse happen. You don't have to apologize, or make it up to me- or- whatever..." Why was I getting so flustered?

I quickly silenced him by starting his measurements, but he wasn't giving up quite so easily, "Why don't you let me take you out for a drink tonight?" he asked. I was kind of taken aback by that. How the heck was I supposed to respond to that?!

"I don't think that's very professional-"

He let out a snort, brushing off my last comment like it was nothing, "I wasn't asking you out, if that's what you were thinking."

"...Oh." I didn't know why, but my heart seemed to drop a bit.

"No, I'm not sure how it is in America, but in the UK colleagues go drinking together all the time. Besides, I have a girlfriend." his smile grew wider and wider as he spoke.

That's when it hit me. I HAD a boyfriend. My heart should not be all aflutter for Liam Payne! By God, we were both seeing other people!

I had to keep my cool, though. It wouldn't look good for anyone if I just walked out of the room now. That would definitely make me look like a Diva, which I certainly didn't need, what with this only being my first week on the job to begin with!

I figured I'd play it safe and just go back to taking measurements, trying to seem indifferent to everything. On the outside I was playing it cool, but really there was a drag race going to inside my brain, "I guess we could go for drinks. Just give me a time." Good, good. That seemed pretty chill. I didn't want to go off being all fan-girlly and what not.

"Why don't I meet you in your room at nine?" he asked, as I finally finished off with my last measurement. There was nothing keeping us here now but this seemingly awkward conversation we had going.

"IN my room?" I asked incredulously.

With a devillish smile, he pulled the platinum Master Card from his back pocket, "Knicked it off Niall this morning."

"You're horrible!" I giggled, as we walked out of the trailer together. Outside was something I had not planned on.

"Liam Payne, look this way!"

"Liam turn to your left!"

"Oh my God," I muttered as the paparazzi came flocking toward us. He quickly put an arm around my waist, leading me forward.

"Keep your eyes down. Don't answer any questions." Liam instructed and I did as I was told.

Just beyond the flock of paparazzi was the herd of screaming girls. Just like that, we were swarmed. Liam placed his arms around me, as we shoved through the crowd. I could tell he was being scratched and clawed at by the fan girls, and I felt sorry. I was still glad, though that he was kind enough to help me through my first experience.


Once we made it to the hotel lobby, the masses were beginning to thin, "Sorry about that. I'm entirely used to it myself."

"Okay, you need to stop apologizing." I chuckled, turning to smack him arm jokingly, "You're a freaking super star. You don't need to apologize for stuff. Your people are supposed to do that for you!" We both got a good laugh from that.

"There you are, Liam!" Louis yelled from where the other four boys were exitting the elevator. They were obviously about to go to the pool, judging by their shirtlessness and the towels draped around their shoulders, "Why don't you and your ladyfriend join us?" he yelled from across the lobby, before dashing off behind Niall, Zayn, and Harry.

"She's not my ladyfriend!" Liam called after them shaking his head, "Well, I suppose we're swimming." he chuckled.

"I'll go, but only if you buy my liquor afterward."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." he chuckled, before we went our separate ways to get dressed.

I was in the middle of changing, trying to decide on whether to wear a tank top over my bikini or not. I decided that I should probably go with being modest and pulled the white wife-beater over my head. I hastily pulled my hair up into a haphazard ponytail. I went to the bed stand to hook up my phone before I left and as I stood there, my sight was averted by a tiny scrap of paper peeking out from underneath the edge of the lamp.

Upon seeing the thing, I gingerly opened it, and what I saw floored me. Written on paper was the name LIAM PAYNE with seven digits underneath. When did he get into my room to put that there? Was it a prank by one of the other boys? This did seem like something Louis or Harry would've done. Would it be unprofessional to just call anyway and...

Screw professionalism. I added the number to my phone, before grabbing myself a towel and darting out the door. Just before I left, I made sure to ditch the wife-beater.


As I entered the pool area, five head whipped toward me, and five jaws dropped.

"The Lord is good to us, Men." Louis gaped and four heads nodded in agreement. I couldn't help but laugh. You would've thought that none of them had seen a girl's body before.

In a less-than-ladylike fashion, I did a cannon ball into the pool, dragging them out of their admiration. And just like that, the rough-housing commensed. It was awesome feeling like just one of the guys.

I fleetingly felt like I was back in Henryville, back home on the farm. Not that the boys were country by any means. It's just that back home it didn't matter if you male, female, gay, straight, black, white, or purple. We were all treated the same. We all took care of the farms and we all tended the fields. There were always common goals. I felt more at home here, then I ever had with my own brother in New York. It was just weird. I wasn't about to tell the boys that, though. We weren't close enough for that kind of a heart-to-heart yet.

"MARCO!" Harry yelled, as we all scattered to different corners of the pool.

Oh yeah. I was totaly just one of the boys. And that was pretty damn great.
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