A Year in The Making: Summer Hols



Dun. Dun dun. Dun dun...dun...dun.

“TURN IT OFF NORA!” I screamed through my cellphone.

I hate my best friend for being a directioner. I can't believe The Beatles were getting compared to them. I could picture her, dancing around back home as her family looked at her like she just broke out of a mental hospital.

“YOU'RE AT THE SIGNING RIGHT!?” she asked me. I could tell it took every last bit of energy she had not to fangirl.

“No.” I said sarcastically. I looked up at the boys.

That was the day that I, Victoria Elizabeth, lead guitarist/vocalist for our nameless girl band, lost two things.

1) My phone.
2) My heart.

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1. Dimples

Nora is going to die. You know, if I ever survive this ridiculous crowd. There were fans everywhere. Crying fans. Screaming fans. Just generally loud ones. Even guys. The line up to the boys seemed longer than the state of Texas. Quick? Haha Nora. Ha. Ha.

I fastened my guitar case strap over my shoulder. I was definitely going to miss this gig. If anyone called me a “directioner” I would be insulted. I refuse to be a part of this ridiculous fanbase. Even mistaken. 

Checking my cellphone, I glanced at the table which seemed miles away. It was 6:00. My thingymabob started at seven. Greeaaaat.

Thankfully, the line seemed to move fast. Most of the girls were overreacting. Why cry when you have the chance to flirt with them? Maybe even ask for their Tumblr account? Perhaps you could ask them to follow you on Twitter, or even ask for a small keepsake. Silly girls.

Thank goodness I was actually closer than it seemed to the boys. I looked at Nora's album, trying to remember which names were who's and who was Irish and what not. Blend in with the crowd, I thought to myself. I was probably the odd thumb sticking out in a room of toes. Okay, that was a bad explanation, but still.

I put a fake smile on my face. Like I was excited. Like this was the best thing in the world. Like how my life would be complete when I met these five boys.

Thirty minutes had already passed. I watched these five girls come up to them, who imitated their style of clothing. They probably had spent hours trying on outfits and perfecting their eyeshadow, just so they could impress this band whom they were only going to meet for maybe two minutes. Definitely dedicated. I wondered if my fans would do the same to me when we got more famous...

Anyways, you probably think that I'm just another one who wasn't going to make it. I will. We will. I'm not like your typical “rocker girl” though. I'm pretty normal. I don't have pink hair or wear excessive loads of leather, and I do not smash guitars on the stage. I just have dirty blonde hair, (the color of washed-out sand which crabs and fish remains take refuge in, yech) and blue eyes. That's all. 

For clothing, I just wear normal things. I have a few brand name t-shirts, probably Hollister, and a varsity jacket from Forever 21 which I'm actually wearing at the moment. Shopping is definitely fun. I love the clothes that I see from Tumblr, but I can never find them. Ugh. Probably designer.

I realized that I should have worn something a bit more formal to my gig. My hair was messy. I was wearing worn-out white converse and my breath kind of smelled. I pulled out a piece of gum from my pocket.

A few more minutes passed and finally, I was reaching the boys. I chewed my gum a bit nervously and texted Nora.

You: almost there norrie,i see ur husbands, lol

She instantly replied back.

Norrie-poo: OMFG TAKE A PICTURE. NOW. RUN. GO. OMFG. RRUUUUUN.

You: run? lmfao, ill take ur stupid pic . :P

Norrie-poo: HURREH, GIRL, HURREHHH

I took a picture of them. The flash blended in with all the other flashing going off, like the fans who took pictures of them every five seconds and uploaded them on Facebook. Ridiculous.

I looked at the picture. Most of them were busy signing albums and having idle chitchat with their fans. The one at the end though, looked right at my phone and smiled. Whoa. Which one was he again? He had this hair, and dimples. Especially those dimples. My favorite one. Or, the one I can tolerate the most. I can't remember his name. I looked back at him. He smiled and waved. At me.

 


He went back to meeting his fans. I moved up the line. I could not remember his name at all, which filled me with guilt. What was his name?

Suddenly, I caught him staring at me. For five seconds, we held eye contact. Direct eye contact. He had this intense look and then he whispered “hi”. I whispered “hello” back, but then he broke away. I realized that he was getting something from under the table. He pulled out a blank piece of white paper. Setting it on top of the desk, he started writing something. The one beside him, the one with suspenders, looked at him, puzzled. He told him something, then suddenly, there he was again, staring at me, pointing at me. This time, both of them.

Should I be dying right now? I think if I was one of those directioners i should be fangirling and screaming my lungs out. But I'm not. I just smiled back, casually, and chewed my gum. Was there something wrong with that?

I texted Nora the picture.

You: hey, whast the name of the one at the end? dimple-face lol

Norrie-poo: dat ones harry :P lmao nigga he's mine dont look at him. 

You: lol i wasnt looking at him, but he was looking at me ;) you jelly?

Norrie-poo: Nigguh plz xx if relatives werent suc hcockblocks and i was there,hed be checking me out lol

You: lmao, ok, probably gonna miss my thingymabob for this though >:I

Norrie-poo: hehe, i luh youuuu :D thingymabob? Lol you always call it that

You: lol idk, k? Calling them “gigs” sound weird, like...idk x

I looked back up. Harry, if that's his name, was waving this sign around. He was looking at me.

YOU'RE NEXT!


I tilted my head. What? Then I realized. I've been standing there for like five minutes. The fans behind me were giving me dirty looks and shouting. Good job, Victoria. Good job. I looked back at Harry. He was laughing. I bit my lip.

“Okay! Okay! I'm going !” I shouted back at the fans.

I quickly texted Nora.

You: Gtg, eating your husbands. :) xx

My iPhone's stupid autocorrect. Oh well. I didn't have time to correct myself. She would get it. I carried my album in one hand and my phone in the other.

“Vas' Happenin'?” the first one smiled. I think this one was Zayn.

“Nothin' much!” I laughed. I remembered when Nora told me that this was the equivalent of “what's up?”. I gave him the CD to sign. Like a professional, he wrote his name swiftly and then I was off to meeting the next one

“Hello dere.”

“Hi.” I smiled. This one was cute. They all were, but there was this something about him, maybe his accent or his crooked smile, that made me smile. He signed his name, “Niall”, on the album.

“Thank you.” I said. He nodded back like he was saying “no problem.”

Liam was next. I knew because I found out who everyone else was. The first was Zayn, then Niall, Liam, Louis (I figured because he didn't seem like a Liam), then Harry.

“Hi Liam!” I said, trying to sound ecstatic.

“How are you?” he asked, signing his autograph.

“In a hurry.” I admitted, scratching my head.

“Whatever for?” he asked, smiling. Pfft, like he actually cared.

“Oh, I got this...thingymabob.” I gestured to my guitar case as he finished signing his name, “Thanks, you guys are amazing by the way.”

I looked over at Louis. Beside him was Harry. There it was again. We held each other's gaze for a while, but I had to break away to get the CD signed by Louis.

“Hello, love, what's your name?” he smiled. He had really blue eyes.

“Victoria, but this is my friend's album, Nora.” I said.

Louis signed the front album. He added some kind of special note inside the album, but I couldn't see. 

“Its a surprise.” he smirked. I gave him a confused look, while Harry laughed beside him.

“Okay...” I slid the album to Harry, along with my phone.

Suddenly, Harry whipped out some silly string and sprayed me from head to toe with this stringy blue stuff. It smelled bad.

“Hey!” I laughed.

Harry also added some kind of special note inside. I'll have to check it later. I'm sure Nora won't mind the extra notes.

“Hello...Victoria?” he asked.

“Yeah, hi. No need for introductions, I'm pretty sure every living being on this planet knows who you are.” I smirked.

He laughed. “Well its nice to meet you too.”

“Again, who would say that they had a horrible time meeting Harry Lyles?”

“Lyles?”

“...That's not your last name, isn't it.” I panicked.

“Its Styles, turns out not everyone knows who Iam.” This time, he was the one who smirked.

We both laughed. At the corner of my eye, I saw the clock inside a store.

“6:51!??” I yelled.

Harry stared at me, with this lost puppy-dog look.

“I'm sorry! Thank you so much, you guys are amazing!” I took the album and dashed. If I sprinted, I might be able to make it in time. Thankfully, the performing arts center was just down the block. I rammed through the door, apologizing to innocent passengers that had to dodge my unhuman speed.

I sprinted down the sidewalk, trying to run as fast as I can so I didn't have to wait to cross the road. My shoelace got untied, and my heartbeat was drumming onto my ribcage. I didn't notice that it had started to rain. Another reason I had to make it inside to avoid looking like a wet dog.

It was about 6:57 when I got there. Avie, Elle, and Danni ran up to me with relief.

“OUR SHOW STARTS RIGHT AT SEVEN, WE GOT TWO MINUTES TO SET UP!” Elle waved frantically. Then we all panicked and set up backstage, furiously plugging patch chords into amps and getting the right sound. We also had to perfect the stage lights and our positioning on the stage. Its amazing the things that could happen in an hour.

As we got ready to play, and I was about to sing the first note of the song, and the velvet red curtains scrolled open, my iPhone shook from Nora's late text message. It wasn't in my pocket. 

Harry, who still had that puppy-eyed look confusion plastered on his face, picked it up from the table at the mall and looked through it with curiosity. 

“Louis, is this your phone?” 


Again, the things that could happen within an hour.

 

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