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.

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2. Shock

"Ma, I'll be fine." I laughed as her worried voice seeped through the receiver on my end of the pay phone. My mom's voice almost made me miss my hometown. She loved and supported me just like a mther should. She was the one thing I missed about Henryville. I hadn't seen my mom in nearly two tears. That's not to say that we didn't talk whenever we got the opportunity. It just wasn't the same as being able to run to Ma's room and talk about every little thing.

"Well, if one of those boys tries to lay a hand on you-"

I couldn't hold back my giggling fit, "Ma, I'm going to be working for them. I'm sure that will be the last thing on their minds. Besides, I'm going to keep it totally projessional." It wasn't like I didn't have Cody, my boyfriend of nearly an entire year, "Okay Ma, they're calling my flight. I've got to go." I murmured hurriedly. I heard a very melancholy voice come over the speakers and call for civilians boarding Flight 29 to London.

"Okay, Baby. I love you." her voice turned sad. It always did that when we were wrapping up our calls, "Call me as soon as you land, alright?"

"Okay, Ma. I love you, too." With that, the line went dead and I turned to Cody. He had come with me, to drop me off at the airport, seeing as I refused to invest in buying a car for myself.

"Call me when you land," he muttered dejectedly, accepting the small peck I gave as I began to hurry off in the direction of the boarding terminal,"I'm going to miss you." he admitted.

"We're coming to New York in a month. You can come visit me." I promised, before kissing him one final time, then taking my carry-on and running onto the plane. I didn't even bother looking back.

One very long journey later, I stepped off the plane and was greeted by the hustle and bustle of a booming airport. I had no clue how on earth I was supposed to find my driver. The entire terminal was literally situated with wall-to-wall people. The tour manager had been kind enough to send a driver to come get me, so I wouldn't have to worry with hailing myself a cab, but right now, a cab seemed to be a better idea.

Off in the distance, I could just barely make out the word 'STYLIST' written across a bright orange piece of poster board. How many stylists could've been on one airplane? I asked myself. Figuring it was my best bet, I hastily broke through the crowd, making my way toward the sign, my small carry-on suitcase in tow. Sure enough the man took down the sign upon seeing me, "You must be Shelbie Porter," he held out his hand and I gave a curt shake, "Can I take your bag?" I handed my suitcase off gratefully, before allowing him to escort me out to the car.

He seemed rather young and dashing. Maybe it was just a preconceived notion from all of the movies I had seen in the past, but I always thought drivers were supposed to be kind of old and crusty. This guy couldn't have been any more than twenty-five years old!

"I'm David, by the way." he said, as we pulled out of the garage.

"Shelbie."

Most of the drive was taken in silence, execept for the occassional small talk. As we pulled up to the valet, though, I finally mustered up the courage to ask, "Just give me a head's up. What should I expect?"

"The best advice I can give you," David began, removing my suitcase from the back, "is to treat them like teenagers. They just want to be treated like normal kids. Don't treat them any differentlt than you would your own brothers."

"Good advice." I muttered, taking my bag from him and making my way tot the concierge desk, "I'm the new stylist for the band that's staying here. I was told there would be a room reserved for me."

"Yes ma'am. That's room 36 on the fifth floor. Here's you key," the over-excited female concierge handed me the plastic card, "You'll be in an ajoined room with two other member of your crew. If you have any questions or concerns feel free to call down to the front desk and we'll get everything squared away. Enjoy your stay."

I went to my room quickly, feeling jet-lagged from my long trip. When I cracked the door, I was absolutely shell-shocked by what I found, "Um...hi?"

Five of the most attractive-looking boys I had ever seen in my life looked up from where they had been wrestling on my queen-sixed bed, "Hi!" they all chorused as the one and only blond fell off the edge, landing flat on his ass.

"You all must be One Direction." I realized, dropping my bag on the ground.

"Most certainly." the one appearing to be the cockiest of the boys managed to untangle himself from the mess of flailing limbs and began sauntering in my direction, grasping at my hips, "The name's Louis. Louis Tomlinson. What's your name, Love?"

"Sh-Shelbie." I managed to sputter out. My brain was fried. I had never imagined them to be so freaking...hot. And to think that I was going to be spending the next few months being rather hands-on, "If you don't mind my asking...why are you in my room?" I didn't want to come off as rude. I was genuinely curious.

"Master Card!" the blond said, revealing a platinum-colored card, which I knew had the code to unlock every single room in the complex, "Knicked it off the maid's trolley. I'm Niall, by the way."

"Zayn!" the eldest-looking called in greeting.

"I'm Harry!" Obviously he was the youngest. Maybe seventeen. He wasn't quite old enough to be 'sexy' yet. I would have to classify him as more along the lines of 'adorable'.

"Liam." Oh. My. God. He was hot. There was no other way to put it. He was hot. I had to admit, it was going to be hard to work for these boys without having rather inappropriate thoughts the whole time.

No. No no no no no no no no.

I swore I would keep it professional. And professionals do NOT have creepy daydreams about other professionals! Well, I suppose technically I'm not a professional yet. I am JUST an intern...

NO.

I hadn't realized that while my raging monologue had been taking place inside my head, it had fallen awkwardly silent, "Welllll..." Niall muttered, pulling me out of my reverie, "You're it." he called, tagging my shoulder, and laughing like a hyena as the four boys fled from my room.

Oh yeah. I was definitely going to like this gig.
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