The Bucket List

She's that crazy musical genius who received a scholarship to Julliard, but vowed she would never play a note of music again, turned down the scholarship and moved across Canada to pursue journalism. Most people saw Summer Terrace as a lost cause, but she needed an escape. She decided that this was the time to do the things that she's been yearning to do. She was going to start on that Bucket list that had been sitting in her notebook for all those years. When this eighteen year old journalist's newest assignment is to go undercover as One Direction's pianist and write articles about everything that happens on and off the stage of their summer world tour, she is overwhelmed to say the least. Summer, now known as Hope Carter, has no clue how difficult it will be to keep her secret as she slips deeper and deeper into trust with each boy and get's swept off her feet by the 'the blonde Irish one.' After all, is it possible to be genuine when you're lying about you're very identity?


9. Seriousness, Selfishness And Silly String


                 Slamming the door shut and turning the lock, I pressed my body against the door. I felt myself breathing heavily as I looked back at the picture that I was still holding. I smiled to myself as my body began to ease. We did look pretty cute. Then suddenly my body tensed up again.

                “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! No distractions!” I whispered to myself as I threw the picture on my bed and pressed my hands against my forehead. I picked up the phone to call the front desk. “Hi, can I request security for room 652 please?” I asked, trying to sound cheerful.

                “Right away mademoiselle,” I heard a thick French accent on the other line. Before I could hang up, my cell phone began to ring.

                “Hello?” I asked as I started madly throwing clothes back into my suitcase.

                “Summer! Do you know that you’re the home page of Hotmail?” I heard the familiar voice of Annabelle.

                “No way!” I said, running over to my laptop and searching up the page. Sure enough, there was the picture of me and Niall plastered across one of the most looked at websites in all the world! “This cannot be happening!” I logged onto the Twitter account I had made for Hope Carter and sure enough there was tweets streaming through. “You and Niall are so cute, I hope you get married,” I began to read the tweets to Annabelle. “I hate you, I hope you go die.”

                “Well then,” Annabelle said through the phone

                 "I have to go," I said, about to hang up on Annabelle.

                “You’re not going to tell me about Niall?” Annabelle screamed at me.

                “I don’t have time. We’re leaving for Romania soon,” I said, hanging up. I sighed as I dialled Niall’s number on my phone. “Niall?”

                “Yeah?” I heard a tired sounding Niall. I had probably woken him up.

                “Do you have screaming reporters at your door?” I asked, looking up at the ceiling.

                “No, I have security for that,” he said.

                “Mind if you share one or something,” I said, pressing my ear against the door to see if the reporters were gone. I heard him laugh to himself. “Hey, well I was going to go down for breakfast, but I don’t think that’s such a good idea anymore.”

                “Why?” a puzzled sounding Niall said.

                “You haven’t seen the pictures yet, have you?” I asked, as I slowly opened my door and peered out the crack I had created. The hallway was empty and I breathed a sigh of relief.

                “There’s always pictures,” he said, sighing. “You can come over to my room, I’m going to ordered food.”

                “Cool. I’ll be there in a sec,” I said hanging up and sliding through the door.

                “Hey love,” Niall said smiling, as he opened his door. He went in to give me a hug, but I walked right past him.

                “You can’t call me love,” I said, placing my hands on my hips.

                “And why not?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

                “Because you call all the other girls love,” I said, smirking at him.

                “So then what would you like me to call you?” he asked, walking over to me.

                I thought for a moment, “The first thing that you think of when you see me. Call me that,” I said, walking back out the door and dramatically re-entering.

                “Hey Bananas. How are you this fine morning?” he said, between smirks.

 I started giggling, “That’s the best you could do?”

“What! I’m hungry and I want a banana!” he exclaimed. I rolled my eyes. That boy is always hungry!  

“I’ll give you one more try,” I said, leaving the room for the last time.

“Well hey there, wow that must be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he said, turning around as I walked in. I felt myself blushing. He walked over and grasped both of my hands, locking my fingers in between his.

“Messy bun and all,” I said, smiling, looking up at him. I had never felt like that in my life before. Even though I had not makeup and my hair hadn't been touched, I felt beautiful. It made what I had to say a thousand times harder. “Niall,” I mumbled, looking down.

“What’s wrong,” he asked, bending down to look me in the eye.

“I think they’re actually going to replace me,” I said, quietly.   

“We already told you that we wouldn’t let that happen,” he said, shaking his head.

“As long as I’m a ‘distraction’, they’re going to replace me,” I said, finally looking back up at him. I pulled out the picture from my hoodie pocket. “This is everywhere,” I said, handing it to Niall. He scratched the back of his neck, staring down at it.

“As long as my performance doesn’t go down, they can’t touch you,” he said, reassuringly.

“You don’t get it,” I said, sitting down on his bed, “I’m not Perrie or Eleanor or Danielle,” I said referring to Zayn, Louis, and Liam’s girlfriends, “I’m on stage with you, I’m everywhere you go. They’re going to be watching me like a hawk.”

“I promise, I won’t let them touch you.”


I pulled out my laptop on the flight to Romania. I had thought about writing an article from the perspective of one of the One Direction girlfriends, but now I had a whole new insight.

If you’re a directioner, then there is no doubt that you’ve looked in awe at Perrie, Eleanor or Danielle. Whether it’s their style, their beauty, or the fact that they’re dating a member of One Direction, girls across the world are looking up at these girls as their role models. But what if you were one of those girls that the public was constantly watching? Let's face it ladies, every directioner has dreamed about it. Girls dreaming about being the girl that Harry would rap his arms around or being the girl that Niall would take to the Eiffel Tower-

“What’s that?” I heard a deep voice say from behind me. I turned my head around to see Harry as I slammed my computer shut.

“I’m just fooling around. I’m keeping a journal of all of this madness,” I said, as I watched Harry grin and sit down next to me. I hoped with everything in me that he hadn’t read anything. I waited for him to say something as he sat there for a moment.

“Why did you choose him?” he finally asked me, looking ahead into the back of the seat in front of him.

“It wasn’t really like that,” I started, “Remember when I said that I was never really asked out. It was because I put up this really confident front. I have standards that are so high that even the captain of the basketball team felt he couldn’t reach them. Niall..." I paused to smile at the name alone, "He’s the first one who’s been able to tear down that wall of fake confidence,” I said, looking up at Harry.

“Did you ever think that there was someone else who could do that?” he asked, his lips pursed together.

“Harry, don’t do this,” I said, shaking my head, “If you do, if you make a scene, they'll kick me out.” I watched as he looked at me grimly. “Just don’t be mad at Niall.” He sighed as he stood up slowly. “Harry,” I called back at him, “Why? Out of all the girls that you could’ve chosen, why me?”

“There’s something about you. There’s something about the way you play your piano and sing your songs. There’s something about the way that you know how special you are, but then you don’t really know at all. You know you’re not like the other girls, so you don’t act like them…” he paused for a moment, then walked away, “Sort of like Niall,” he said under his breath.


I sighed as I stood up to get off the plain. We had landed in Bucharest, Romania and I was finally getting used to flying almost every day. I rubbed my eyes as I waited for everyone to begin exiting the plain. Even though it was a really nice plane the crew flew with us, so there were a fair amount of people in the plain, and I was sitting in the back. As I stepped out of the plain into the hot Romania air I was bombarded with a white sticky substance. I looked up in shock to see the five boys spraying me while the whole crew was giggling.

“Have a silly string fight!” Niall shouted to me as he threw me a can of silly string.

“Oh, it is so on!” I said, catching the can and spraying the boys.


By the time we got to the hotel, we were all a mess of colourful sticky string.

“It’s all in your hair,” I said, laughing , while picking pieces of silly string out of Niall’s hair as we drove up to the hotel. I turned to Harry who was on the other side of me. “Oh my gosh,” I said between giggles, “I won’t even try to deal with your hair.” I looked out the window to see about two hundred screaming girls waiting outside the hotel.

“Woops,” Liam said, beginning to brush the mess off of his pants.

“This should be fun,” Zayn said, laughing. I watched as the security guards lined up to create a walkway for us. I always felt like royalty whenever this happened. I waited as the boys got out first and even though we were drenched in silly string, the crowd erupted into frantic screams. I covered my  mouth to keep from laughing. Directioners are so weird... just like me.

 I got out afterwards and signed a few autographs, then walked into the hotel. I was shocked to see Simon talking to the boys in the lobby when I entered the hotel. He didn’t look very pleased.

“Excuse me, Miss. Carter, can I have a word?” he called out to me as I walked by. I walked over to him, trying to brush the silly string out of my hair.

“I don’t believe we’ve formally met,” he said, offering his hand, “Simon Cowell.”

“Hi, I'm Hope Carter,” I said, shaking it, trying to muster as much confidence I could find within me.

“Do you think we could talk?” he asked, leading me away from the boys. I looked over at Niall frantically as I walked away. I caught him mouthing to me it’s okay. But I knew that nothing about this situation was okay. I took a deep breath as I looked up at Simon in anticipation.

“There’s something that has come to my attention that I must speak to you about,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. I gulped as I looked into his cold eyes, feeling that at any moment I would be vaporized.  No, nothing about this was okay.

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