I practice my smile quickly before I have to get out of the large limo. This was sent by the band that I'm rehearsing with. Of course they would have a limo sent to my hotel. They're the most famous boy-band in the world. That's right, I'm talking about the one and only One Direction. I looked in my hand-held mirror to make sure that I look perfect, I've seen these boys, and they are attractive.
Of course, they personally asked for me as a dancer, and why wouldn't they? I'm one of the best dancers in the world. I'm so well-rounded that I can adjust to nearly any type of dance. However, there are four other girls that will be dancing with me. I silently pray that none of them are prettier than me. I don't do well with competition. I mean, even if they are prettier than me, which seems to be remotely impossible, I'll just blow everyone away with my dancing. Nothing out of the ordinary.
"Excuse me, Miss?" I look up at the driver, who is looking quite annoyed with me, "We're here."
I brace myself to get out of the car, prepared for paparazzi everywhere. As I step out of the car-without thanking the driver- I am met with my thoughts. Cameras line the sidewalk, and television members ask me questions about the tour, the boys, and my dancing. I just smile and continue to walk, after all, I haven't met any of these boys yet.
As soon as I burst through the door of the rehearsal studio, my scowl returns to my face. I roll my eyes at how pathetic those people are. After a few moments of being unable to locate the room where I'm supposed to be at, I walk up to a desk that I presume to be the receptionist desk. "I need One Direction's room."
She scoffs, "How are you even in here? I can't give you their room."
I narrow my eyes at her. Is she serious? "Listen, I'm one of the best dancers in the world and you are not-"
"Oh, like I haven't heard that one before. I'm not letting you through."
I pull out my iPhone and find the name of the boy's number who I have: Liam Payne. After three rings, he answers, "Hey! Where are you at, Camilla?"
I sigh and look pointedly at the lady, putting on my best sad tone, "The mean receptionist won't tell me where your room is."
He gasps, "Are you serious? She's normally so nice! I'll be out in a minute!" He hangs up the phone and I fake smile at the lady.
A boy who is very tall runs out toward us. "Camilla, I'm glad you made it!" He turns towards the receptionist, "This is a very important guest to us, Miss. If you could not be so rude next time. I know you're still jealous about the whole Harry thing, but you can't be rude to her." He sighs. "Come on, Camilla." I make a squinty, mocking face at this lady and follow Liam to their room.
"So, this is our rehearsal room, for future records. You can just ignore her from now on." Liam indicates as we walk into the room. Instead of seeing four other boys, I see eight. Plus one girl, who, thankfully isn't nearly as pretty as me.
I wave to them all. And they chorus 'hellos' and 'heys'. One by one they introduce themselves, and it goes quite quickly.
"Camilla," I respond.
The boy who I believe is Niall laughs, "We all knew that, love. Who doesn't know you?"
I just ignore his comment. Of course they know who I am, but I can't act rude, can I?
We all sit there until the other three girls arrive. The rest of the boys are asking Arabelle and I questions. She answers them all with glee and you can tell that she's a big fan of theirs. I, on the other hand, just shrug and give a minimal answer. Had I known I'd have to wait a half an hour, I'd have spent more time at the hotel- not being here.
The last of the three girls- names Leah, Sarah, and Amena- arrives, and we can finally start dancing. A choreographer comes in and gets right down to business- my kind of guy. I'm paired with Harry, the curly haired boy. He winks at me as he hears this and I roll my eyes at him. Pig.
"Glad to be your partner," Harry nearly whispers as we start the dance.
"I'd rather be Liam's. Or that kid in the corner. He doesn't seem to talk." I smirk.
"Ow. That hurts. I'm so much cuter than Ashton," he laughs. I roll my eyes and try to start.
However, that is not how this proceeds. The boys are all laughing, joking, and not getting any dancing done. They continue this and I continually yell at Harry to keep focused. While the other girls are upset, I am mad. I didn't come here, all the way from Maryland, to not dance while the laugh around. After hardly making it through two dances, the choreographer releases us. He seems just as frustrated as I am. Without as much as a good-bye I exit the room and go to wait near the door for my limo to be back.
"You could be nicer, you know. They're just trying to have fun," I hear from behind me. It's the boy that was in the corner and didn't talk. Ashton, I believe.
I scoff, "Listen, I'm here to dance."
"You don't have to be rude while you do it. You could have a little fun. Make a few friends."
"Ashton, is it? I'm not here to make friends. The secret to success is making it for yourself." I say as I turn and exit the building, not caring if my ride is here or not. I don't have time to listen to him.