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?”


9. Moving Out

Moving Out

Quinn groaned as her alarm woke her from the most delightful of dreams. She fumbled around under her pillow for a moment or two before she found the phone and switched the blaring alarm off. She lay in silence for uncountable minutes, blinking at the top of the van to try and get her bearings and her brain working. It took a moment or two for everything to sink in, but then she realised.

She was on tour with One Direction.

She had met One Direction, played FIFA with One Direction… and kicked arse, mind you…

Slowly, a smile spread across her face and she rolled over to laugh hysterically into her pillow, letting all of the built-up fangirliness escape before she had to face the day again. It was only Xavier’s quiet snoring that made her finally get up and shuffle into the small bathroom they were sharing. If anybody looked in there, they’d probably think the clutter belonged to Quinn. Not so. She owned a toothbrush and a tube of paste, while the hair products and makeup- for stage use only, as he frequently insisted- was all Xavier’s.

It made her snicker quietly as she brushed her teeth and washed her face, steadily going through her morning routine before stepping out refreshed, dressed, and ready to go. Xavier had assured her there would be a caravan park near the venue where they’d park their vans and have a shower. Quinn pursed her lips, not entirely sure she wanted to wash in such a public place.

As she emerged into the fresh morning air, she caught sight of Tyson and Ben returning from the Colosseum with steaming cups of tea. Ben held two, one for himself and one for Quinn, and he handed it over as they met in the middle of the parking space. “Good sleep?” she asked, rubbing her eyes and trying not to yawn. She was refreshed, yes, but still tired. It was early.

Ben shrugged and Tyson grunted behind his sunglasses, blearily staring at the tea as if it would magically heal his hangover. “He farts,” Ben said finally, elbowing his mate in the shoulder. Tyson swayed dangerously and Ben had to grab him to keep him upright. “And it’s worse when it’s warm-beer-flavoured.”

Quinn’s nose crinkled. “Thanks for that disgusting piece of information,” she informed the two of them. Tyson grunted again, a low sort of sound that she guessed was probably his version of protest. Since it was non-verbal, she ignored it and gave Ben a sympathetic pat on the back. “If it’s any consolation, Xavier mooed all night.”

Ben snorted and choked on his tea, coughing it all back up as he tried to laugh and breathe and glare at the same time. A multi-tasker he was not. Quinn hid a smile behind the plastic cup and Ben’s glare intensified. “You have horrible timing,” he muttered.

“Yep,” she agreed cheerfully, nodding to the van. “Wanna wake up Xay?” Ben’s expression turned wicked and Tyson mumbled something about idiot morning people, toddling off to hide behind his van. Quinn had a fiver on the fact that he was throwing up and probably regretting getting as plastered as he did. Who did that, anyway? And in two hours? What the hell did they drink?

“If he asks,” Ben said quietly, “I will happily blame you.”

Quinn just smiled and placed her tea safely by the wheel of the large bus, returning to the open door of her van. Ben had already stepped inside and had grabbed a packet of raw popcorn, one that Quinn had left out the night before. The two of them took their places as the driver and passenger respectively as the popcorn began to heat up in the microwave. At the first ‘pop’, Xavier stirred but didn’t wake. At the second, Quinn and Ben stood to grab his blankets. As the popping became more frequent, Quinn yanked the blankets and Ben rocked the van.

“EARTHQUAKE!” they shouted together, unable to stand for laughter when Xavier’s head shot up, hit the roof of the van, ricocheted back onto his pillow before his entire lanky body fell onto the floor between the two bunks, cursing loudly at them, the popcorn, and the hangover. He reminded her of Stewie Griffin when he was shouting angrily.

“Fucking run, both of you,” Xavier growled, slowly picking himself up. Quinn tossed his blankets over his head, made sure she had her keys, and bolted with Ben around the other side of One Direction’s bus. She wasn’t sure if the boys were up yet, but there was no movement from within, so she assumed not. Xavier emerged a few seconds later, glaring out at the world as Ben and Quinn ducked from sight, still struggling for breath. “Quinn, darling sister, you have to spend an hour in the van with me! I’ve had five extra years on you, girly-face, so don’t think my revenge will be pleasant!” Xavier was shouting, storming about the parking space and looking everywhere for them. As he made it around the side of the bus, Quinn and Ben hurried to hide in their vans.

The door popped open behind her and Niall’s sleepy head popped out. “Wassallthscreamin?” he mumbled. Quinn stopped to catch her breath and explain while Ben hauled a still half-drunk Tyson into their van and slammed the door. She was aware now that Xavier would most likely find her, but didn’t care.

“We woke up a bloke with a hangover,” she said quickly, to Niall’s shake of the head.

“Are you Satan?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. Quinn just grinned and dodged as Xavier lunged to grab her. Shrieking and waking up the entire contingent, they made a lap of the lot before growing tired of the chase and Xavier disappeared to get himself ready. Niall had re-emerged from the bus, now with a cup of tea, and Quinn returned to found hers stone cold. She’d still drink it, though, leaning against the bus beside the blonde. “How drunk was he?” Niall asked, a little more awake now.

Quinn shrugged. “Not too bad. He was alert enough to know the difference between ‘bed’ and ‘gutter’.” Niall snickered into his tea, having to look away as he cleared his throat with a cough. Quinn tilted back her head and grimaced at the cold tea in her cup. “Is everyone awake in there?” she asked, nodding to the bus. Niall shook his head.

“Liam and Harry are,” he replied, falling quiet once more as she stared at the sky and he stared at the ground, scuffing his foot every so often. Niall groaned a little as he pushed up off the side of the bus, standing straight and stretching to crack his back. “Wanna come in?” he asked, holding the door open. Quinn could hear groans about the cold air from inside and shook her head.

“Better not. I’m driving,” she answered, a little regretfully. Niall gave her a small smile before leaping up into the bus and shutting the door behind him. Quinn turned before it clicked and headed for the van, intent on apologising to Xavier and making sure he wasn’t too angry with her.He was back on his bunk and snoring again, which only made Quinn shake her head as she grabbed the freshly made popcorn and put it on the passenger’s seat. It would make a nice snack for when she was driving, because she hadn’t had time to stock the van with anything food related just yet.

She would when they stopped.

At half-seven in the morning, one of the production assistants knocked on the door to say they’d be driving at eight, and to make sure they were ready. Quinn nodded, leaving Xavier to sleep, as she made one last sweep of the venue to check they’d got all their stuff. As she went from place to place, she took a picture to remember it by, before returning to the van and settling into the driver’s seat.

With fifteen minutes to spare, Quinn messed about on her phone to pass the time. Facebook first, then a quick text to Mum and Dad and Evan, then Twitter, and back to Facebook. She only looked up four times; each time to wave at whomever had knocked on the front window. Liam first, who looked the most awake of anybody she’d seen so far, then Harry, Louis and finally an almost zombie-like Zayn, who had his hair in a slight mess. Quinn didn’t have the heart to point it out.

At exactly eight in the morning, Quinn shut and locked the van doors to avoid any unwanted passengers, started the engine, and patiently waited in line as their convoy moved out.

Luckily, the crowd was only half as big outside the gates, and Quinn thanked her lucky stars that she didn’t hit anyone.

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