"Alright, so. It says here we have to put in our hobbies." I said to Cara, who, when she had heard about the show, was jumping up and down with excitement. I thought about my hobbies. I didn't really have any, aside from going on Tumblr, stalking celebrities on Twitter, reading, crying over fictional characters, watching BBC shows...
No, I did not have any hobbies.
"Ooh, I've got an idea!" Cara said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
I rolled my eyes. "Please. Enlighten me."
She smacked me lightly on my arm, but I pretended it really hurt. "Oh, shush up Tori. Now, my idea is that instead of putting boring things in our descriptions, such as reading or writing, we put it really interesting things. Like juggling knives or training lions."
I laughed at it, but actually it wasn't so bad. What harm could come from it?
So, twenty minutes later, we were laughing our butts off at what we had written.
"Oh, I can't believe you put playing with sharp objects as one of your hobbies." Cara said, laughing the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Anyway, now, let's get on to the other stuff."
We started filling in important things, like our names, addresses, phone numbers etc.
"And...there!" I said as I clicked the submit button.
But I should have never done that.
I should have never pressed that submit button.
Because little did I know, I was in for one heck of a ride.
It had been almost fifteen days since we submitted our forms, and although I was very hopeful, I knew I wouldn't get chosen. I mean, what were my chances with about a billion other girls?
It was the summer, and all I had been doing lately was lounging around the living room, stuffing my face with crisps and eating my body weight in chocolate.
Today was another one of the I'm-gonna-do-nothing-but-eat-food-and-watch-BBC-shows day. Just as I had made myself comfortable on the couch, my phone beeped, signalling an email. I opened it.
And I swear my heart stopped for a full minute.
Because it was from One Direction management.
The email went like this:
Congratulations! You have been chosen as a contestant in the reality television show, Keeping Up With The Fangirls. You are one out of a hundred girls who have been chosen. The show will be filmed in Los Angeles and the tickets will be sent to you by mail. We have arranged for a driver to come and pick you up on the 10th of July. All other details will be provided to you when you arrive at Los Angeles.
Thank you and have a nice day!
One Direction Management.
I swear, I had to pinch myself like ten million times to make sure I wasn't dreaming. When my arm was red all over, I called over Cara excitedly and told her to come over right NOW.
When she came at my door, panting slightly, I almost pulled out her arm dragging her over to the couch.
"What?" She questioned me.
I smiled widely. "I got in. I got an email from One Direction management telling me I got in." I said excitedly and showed her the email.
Suddenly her face fell, but she tried to look happy, something she was failing at miserably.
"What's wrong? You didn't...get in?" I asked, fearing the worst.
She nodded once, a short, small nod. Her eyes betrayed the sadness she was feeling. That's it. I couldn't take it anymore.
"Listen. If you can't go, I won't go. Or you can go in my place." I said, suddenly feeling very kind-hearted. Which was weird. I mean, we were talking about me. I couldn't be nice to save my life.
Cara shook her head. "No, you go. You were the one they chose after all. And plus, while you'll be stuck with 99 other annoying girls, I'll get to go to the beach and talk to cute guys." She said with a weak smile.
"But promise me something." Cara said, turning to me.
"What is it?"
"Promise me you'll tell the guys of One Direction how you have an amazing and wonderful friend who also happens to be very pretty."
Then we both started laughing, and I knew she was alright.