Scoundrels (One Direction Fanfic)

. “What are we playing for?” Quinn asked.
“Fame, glory, bragging rights,” Niall listed, counting the items off on his fingers with a cheeky grin. Quinn rolled her eyes and shoved him lightly, prompting him to shove her back. “Loser buys the winner dinner?”


12. Bring Me Down


Bring Me Down

Quinn’s afternoon, after One Direction were whisked away for their signing and she’d refused to stay on their bus without them, was spent messing around on the beach despite the chilly weather. She liked the beach; the sounds, the smells. Xavier had given her a few hours to herself as their sound-check wasn’t until five and she hadn’t really had any proper time to just absorb her new life before being thrust into it. He knew that, without a few minutes to herself, Quinn would bottle it up until she exploded.

She’d wandered out to the end of the jetty and tried to call home. Left a message on their home phone, knowing her parents would appreciate the thought when they heard it. She tried to call Evan too, but his phone must have been switched off as it went straight through to his answering service. She didn’t leave a message, but sent off a quick text asking him to call her, promising she’d answer if he did.

He hadn’t said a word to her since she’d left, and it was worrying her slightly. There were often periods of days when she didn’t hear from Evan, but she accepted those because they usually weren’t just after one of the biggest fights they’d ever had. Evan had not been happy when Quinn shared that she was going on tour. He hadn’t even come to see her off. It was driving her around the bend, not knowing where she stood. Sighing, she lay on her back and watched the clouds roll in. They looked like they could hold snow; Quinn fervently hoped they did, and that it would settle. She never really got sick of snow and it never really felt like Christmas unless it was white.

Quinn lulled herself into a trance with the waves beneath her, the clouds above, and smiled to herself at the tranquillity of her surroundings. She made a note to come back one day for a holiday, and stay for more than a day. A shrill alarm woke her some hours later, jerking her up from the near-slumber and informing her that she had only an hour until show-time for the Scoundrels.

Hurriedly picking herself up, Quinn started jogging slowly back towards the venue, careful to stick to the pavement and use the least-populated entry. She managed to holler a hello at One Direction, who were returning a little breathlessly from their signing and disappearing into their bus.

“Come over!” Harry called, beckoning at her.

Quinn shook her head, hovering outside her van as Xavier was changing inside. “Can’t,” she called, nodding to the venue behind her. “Gotta do my job!”

Harry’s face fell and Louis appeared beside him, his height giving him the advantage needed to look over the mess of curls. “Later, then?” Louis shouted, phrasing it as a question but not meaning it as one in the slightest. Quinn shrugged, making no promises, and turned her attention to Xavier who emerged dressed and ready to go. He needed help with his hair- he could never get it to sit just right- and his makeup, because he was hopeless at it himself and they were kind of running late.

Tyson and Ben appeared as Quinn was applying one last layer of foundation to Xavier’s face, stepping back so he could stand and head on in as the next boy sat himself down in front of her. Ben had already done his, which left Tyson to moan and groan that she was molesting his face. The whining had no effect on Quinn, who was done in under ten minutes, and waving her hands to get the band moving.

“Honestly!” she cried, slamming the van door shut behind her and shoving her keys in her pocket. “I bet Zayn’s less trouble than you three!”

“What did I do?” Ben yelped, insulted, and Quinn grabbed his silver tie to scrub at a pizza sauce stain on the end of it. The stain didn’t look like it was going to move and she used it to tug on his neck meaningfully, releasing him only when he rolled his eyes and muttered something nearing an apology.

Like a mother goose herding goslings, Quinn ushered the boys into their prep room and made them each down a bottle of water before they filed up on stage, Xavier dashing off to the loo at the last minute. Quinn, always ready for any emergency, stepped in to sound-check his mike and cleared it with five minutes to go before the doors opened.

Tyson and Ben disappeared to complete whatever pre-show rituals floated their boat and Quinn collapsed in a chair in the prep room, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. She wanted so badly to sleep and made a note to not let Xavier anywhere near a pub because she was sleeping in tomorrow. Her mood only brightened when One Direction joined her, the five boys making themselves comfortable around the room. Liam had carried in a bean bag and Quinn eyed him jealously, quietly plotting to get him out of it so she could steal it.

“Don’t even think about it,” Liam said aloud, waving a finger at her as he caught sight of her staring. She scoffed and looked away, about to retort with something dismissive when she felt something buzz in her pocket, and the chorus of Frankie Valance’s My Eyes Adored You started playing. With a brighter smile than she’d had in days, Quinn yanked it out and wandered to a corner to take the call.

“Evan!” she said delightedly, over the moon to have heard back from him. “You called! I’m so sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye… why didn’t you come see me off?”

“Would it have made a difference?” Evan replied glumly, sounding moodier than usual. He hadn’t been exactly happy, or even all-there, for weeks now. Quinn felt her heart sink as his tone registered and her mood soured, the smile slipping off her face as she leaned against the wall, scuffing her feet.

“I missed you,” she said, the words sounding almost like a plea rather than a statement of fact.

Evan snorted. “Obviously. You had the best night of your life, without me,” he snapped, his tone abruptly loud. Quinn flinched and turned to face the wall, spotting Niall giving her a concerned glance over his shoulder.

“Do we have to fight?” she whispered, silently begging him not to start one now. She didn’t need the stress on top of everything else; she was just finding her feet in the tour life, why did Evan have to add something else for her to worry about? “Can’t we just-“

“I did come see you off, by the way,” Evan said flippantly, his tone tailored specifically to make Quinn’s guilt skyrocket. “You didn’t even notice me. Some relationship we have, hey?”

And the line went dead. She stared at the phone for a moment, shocked, and wondered angrily why he’d bothered calling at all if he had only wanted to make her feel terrible. She glanced at the television, seeing that the Scoundrels had just started their second song. Without a word to anyone, Quinn walked outside and across to her van, leaping in and shutting the door behind her.

Only once she was well and truly alone did she let the mask slip, and a few tears stung her eyes as she sat on her bunk and tried to calm down. She phoned Evan back, intending to apologise and beg his forgiveness. The call went straight to his answering service and Quinn didn’t want to leave a pleading message, so she just hung up and tossed her phone angrily at her pillow. “Stupid boy,” she muttered, leaping down to wash her face and pull herself together. She had a job to do; the show must go on despite the hellish nature of her thoughts.

Quinn returned to the prep room to five sets of concerned eyes. She just smiled and shook her head, continuing through to stand in the wings of the stage and wait, careful to stay out of everybody’s way.


So how are you guys enjoying the story so far? Do you like Quinn's characterisation? Is there anything I can improve? Please leave a bit of feedback below if you spot something that needs adjusting :) And thank you all so much for reading, it always puts a smile on my face when I see the view counter go up!

- MS xx

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