Outsiders

Naomi Dalton has had a pretty tough life so far, by her parents leaving her to fend for herself at age 15, getting pregnant, and getting her baby murdered when she was 7 months pregnant by a rapist stabbing her multiple times in the stomach. Her existent was eventually consumed by drug abuse, alcoholism, self harm, and her entire family wants absolutely no part of her.

Six years later, she is granted a job at Vouge, one of the most prestigious magazine companies in the entire world, and is working as a receptionist for three months, until she is re-located to the Main Head-quarters in New York City. During her first working day, she is brought up into an interview assistant with one of the most famous boy bands in the entire world, one she was not a big fan of; One Direction. She had heard of them before, but knowing their constant fame, and their rugged female friends, and how many of them knew Her, she chose to have nothing to do with them once every single boy is assigned a receptionist job the same length of time as hers.

Dissapointed, she learns to except the change. But, eventually she begins to enjoy the boys, and become friends with them all. One has his eyes on here, and has ever since he noticed her, and she chose to never notice: That boy, was Harry Styles. Eventually, she realizes all the perks to being around the boys, but will she allow a romance to begin budding when she is informed that one of her most bitter enemies in high school was Harry's ex?

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3. Brand new Eyes

The office was stiff, everyone who was passing through was so proper that if I sneeze, I'm looked at like a serial killer. I cross my legs, and enjoy a magazine. 'Cosmopolitian' was killing it this year with interviews with the stars. Miley Cyrus, Kim Kardashian, Miranda Kerr; they've got the sexiest woman on earth this year.

As I smelled some perfume samples, I noticed that a few other men were ahead of me. I sat in silence with them, as they prepped themselves in the lobby. I began looking over their bodies, trying to identify who they were. They looked super familiar, somehow.

One with shaven-down chestnut hair and deep brown eyes combs down his thickening beard, staring inside a mirror at himself. Another next to him with winded-dirty blonde hair stares down at his phone, a can of 'Vidal Sassoon' hairspray inside the cushions next to him. The last one wasn't even looking over to them, or at me. He grazed down the hallway, I assume waiting for his 'ready' on his photoshoot, or why ever they're all here together. I suddenly knew who they were, but I never fancied them. They were the famous members of a band famous all over the world, One Direction.

After a few much longer minutes staring at the ground, Elle Fouler, the assistant VP, hopped from the straight hallways, into the lobby, getting the attention of all three boys. She coughed, and her excitement went straight to her voice. She was beautiful, her shoulder-length dark brown hair tied back into a messy bun, a knee-length Green dress rides and hugs her body. She had curves in the places I wish I had. Her chest was a few sizes bigger than mine, and she looked clean. She knew I did joints, but she still accepted me. She knew I battled with addiction, and somehow, she had a warmed-up feeling to me during our conference. She said it seemed like she could believe in me that I'd do my best to help the sales of the magazine. She stood in front of the coffee room door, snapping her fingers at attention, and welcomed us all with a flattering smile.

"Hello, everyone! My name is Elle Fouler, and I will be working with you three handsome young men today.

Eventually, she noticed me, and motioned for me to stand by her side. Holding my purse to my stomach, I gulped, nervous.

"Liam, Niall, Harry, this is Naomi..." She waited for me to finish. I felt judged, forgotten.

"Dalton." I whisper, the word barely escaping between my lips. The boys all said hello, and shook my hand very firmly. The one with Blonde hair smiled, the Shaven-down one nodded, and the one with Bouncy, Curly hair grinned wider than the Blonde. "How do you do?" He asked, curiosity taking over his voice. I moved a strand of hair out of my face, and flushed bright peach. "Swell." He shook his head, and focused on the fatal cut on my right hand. The discoloration stood out more than I thought it would underneath my concealer. Oh shit..

Scaring me slightly, Elle turned to me, and grinned all the way to her earlobes.

"You'll be doing the boys' make-up, hair, and showing them around the building." She nudged me, standing me up straighter. I was fading, it was like someone had placed these tasks on me suddenly, and this shit won't fly for two months. I don't even know half of this building, how the hell can I should these people around? Tapping Elle's back, I was baffled by my question tone.

"How can I show them around if I haven't even seen the entire headquarters yet? Can someone who knows the building guide instead of me today?" She frowned, but nodded, understanding stunningly.

"Alright. Let me show you to your station room for beauty, and I'll let you get accustom. I'll send the three boys in about half and hour. Tops." She moved me along down a long, windowed corridor, about sixty-five feet off the ground. Below, I can see thousands of teenage girls, and a few boys, holding up posters. One read, "Harry can you make some 'moments' with me?!?!?!?!". Oh, brother. I shake my head, and follow the bubbly, curvy brunette.

I noticed her stop in front of a door with a small golden arrow on it. Staring into the black wooden barrier, she takes out a set of three bronze keys, and inserts the medium-sized one inside of the key slot. After a few moments, were inside a dimly-lighted room. All I could see was a gigantic, stage-like dresser. Several sets of brush bowls, a blow-dry, different hair products, a few different bags full of make-up products, and a small stack of Books surround and clutter my space, but this was the perfect amount of equipment for my job. But, I'm not a professional make-up artist. I loved doing it, but I wasn't the best.

"Elle, thank you for giving me the chance. But, I'm not a professional mak-" she silenced me with her left hand.

"It's alright, doll. Mika will be here in about fifteen minutes, she's going to help you with the boys." She shook her head slightly, winked, and walked out of the doorframe. I sat in the black, silky chair at my stationary, and began mixing a few foundation colors. She left me a few masks with the same skin tone as my upcoming clients.

I mixed a tan with a porcelain color, making an honey-Ivory shade. Happy with the three pots of similar liquids, I inspect one last time. One pot was filled with a more tan foundation for Liam, one with more porcelain for Niall, and Neutral for Harry. I didn't know anything about these boys, and I didn't really care to know anything. All I knew was I would be touching their faces, and I knew they would try and hit on me. I don't understand why they would, but I had a strange feeling about it. Taking out my 'Galaxy 4', I began to scroll through my text messages.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the longest thirty minutes of my life, the boys entered. Mika came A little earlier than expected, but she showed me how to apply foundation to a male's face, but we used a styrofoam head. Harry looked at me, and I began focusing on the painting behind him, trying not look odd. Instantly behind them was an older-looking woman, about her late thirties, holding a small clipboard, and rocking the jeans and yellow polo she covered her body with.

"Okay, everyone. We don't have time to do touch ups, the CEO of the entire company will be here in five minutes to meet the whole band. Louis and Zayn Are in the meeting hall upstairs already, but no one needs touch-ups. I know this is sudden, but girls, take a break. Everyone else, come with me." She smiled, And held up her hand, strolling the boys outside the door beside her. She looked around in the practically empty room for a moment, and they called me outside.

Biting my tongue, I stood in front of the boys, and waited for the lady to begin. Harry eyed me, amused with my terrified face. I heard a small giggle come out of the three boys, and I just kept looking straight, not trying to pay attention. This is my first job, for fuck sakes.

"You need to come with us, too. Mr.Vogue wants to have company in the office. He's very polite, he just need other interns in there to break the ice. Is that okay?" Taking in the words quickly, I nodded, and she began walking. I walked at a fast pace behind the woman. The boys trailed behind, but I felt their eyes on me. I began to have a sense they were looking at my obviously-noticeable mark on my wrist. Jesus, I thought. I held my hand across my stomach, trying to calm my nerves. Climbing up the stairs, I could hear my own steps, I was stomping. I lightened up, and began focusing on joining my new boss's, boss's boss at a worldwide, documented meeting with the most famous boy band on earth.

Walking into the large, desk-pilled room, with four women, two men, and an elderly man in between them all. He noticed us, and attempted to stand, and eventually went to his cane for support. Elle held out her arms to help, but he denied her request. His face was covered in White facial hair, wrinkles overtaking his skin. His smile was about seventy-years old, but it was still confident. His eyes were full of Hazel, and happiness.

"Hello, young people. My name is Mr.Vogue, and I'm the creator of this company you're inside!" He was ecstatic over meeting the boys, his eyes focusing on the Indian-looking one with the swept-up Jet Black hair-do.

"You're the leader of the group, aren't you?" Mr.Vogue asked, quietly, but still loud enough for me to hear across the room. Fancy-hair boy shook his head, and pointed to another boy with hair styled like his, but a few shades lighter. This time, the boy was white.

"Louis is." He said silently.

Louis smiled, and held up his hand. Mr.Vouge smiled, and shook everyone's had firmly. He held out his arms to me, for a large masculine hug. I wasn't going to be rude, so I held him back lightly.

Sitting down, a few women came in front then and there, and gave me treats, and some Mocha Lattes. I was enjoying to happiness the room absorbed, but I was not liking the constant attention to myself. It was kind of awkward.

Mr.Vogue snapped his fingers, and his camera men, and speaker women came at attention, and began tossing wild questions around the room all the way to the boys, who were peacefully sitting on stool placed on a large stage in the middle of the room. I could see the slight change in those five pairs of eyes, as the most sensitive phrases were thrown at them.

One lady in short navy pants was called on first, she had barely any make-up on, and was slightly older than my mother.

"How many sales do you guys assume you've sold so far since 'Midnight Memories' has been released last weekend?" Her voice was eager, I could tell she was a huge fan of theirs. I never was.

The tan one grinned, and quirkily said, "About 300,000?"

I could feel the laughter pile up inside my bones, as the employees shook the entire office with an uproar of giggles. They eventually all wiped their eyes, and began to be serious once again. The short-panted lady spoke softly again, and was placing curiosity inside her tone.

"So, you guys assume you're not a popular band?"

The shaven one shook his head, violently.

"No, that's not what we're saying. We don't assume every single time we release a single that everyone will stop what they're doing instantly, and run to Target or Walmart, or whatever the people call it in America, and go pick up our CD that's been out for 8 days." His mouth settled into a fine line, liberating his entire face into a mesh of many emotions. All of the boys were on the edge of their seats now, preparing for any new strange questions that could be placed inside the air.

I begin feeling sorry for them all, they're always thrown into situations like this probably, and have no way out, since they're all famous. The blonde stood, and began protesting to the entire crowd of people. Every threw themselves back into their seats, and were cautioning themselves for what could happen.

"So, you think that we're a bunch of self-centered pricks? No! We love all of our fans, thanks a lot. We know that we have many dedicated fans to this band, but we don't expect a million sales in the first week. Do you people have nothing else better to do with your times? Trying to make us all look like compete assholes? We aren't, we know at heart we aren't, so shove those cue cards up your asses." He threw his chair against the ground, jumped from the stage, and threw himself outside the doorway. The leader boy attempted to go after him, but Harry lowered him back down against the cushion. He sighed, and began placing his armor onto his body, impaction, and insult-proof. I could tell by their faces that they've protected them self with an invisible armor.

Another petite woman flung herself from her seat, and began to speak.

"Harry, how times has you been in-and-out of a relationship with your former e-" Harry cut her off with his palm, already knowing her question.

"She is no longer a part of my life. I'm looking for someone else. She doesn't have to be a multi-million selling recording artist, she doesn't have to be a model. She needs to grab my attention. She has to look broken, or needed to be fixed in the past. She has to have an aura of speciality to me, and I think I'm going to find someone really soon exactly like that." His gaze drifted to me, and the entire room went silent.

I could feel Mr.Vouge and Elle's eyes on me from behind, and beside me, knowing that I had placed a smile onto their faces.

Oh my, a famous singer was noticing me.

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