Aviva [Winner in the Bandoms Category for Battle of the Fandoms, 2016]

"Why do you like being alone? You don't rehearse with your band, you avoid your agent, and you fly the bird like it's nobody's business. At your FANS," Niall said, sipping from his milkshake. I stared into his eyes, studying his bleach blond hair before twirling the straw around in my root-beer. "Because the lone survivor lasts," I whispered. "If you're alone, who can hurt ya?"


2. Niall & Aviva


“I’m beginning to have second thoughts about this,” Liam said, flipping through a magazine. I looked over at him, leaning down so that I could see the cover. It was People- not exactly my favorite press release, but this one looked interesting enough. A girl, in short overalls and a striped black and white shirt, stood with her middle finger in the air, other hand on the microphone, with green smoke engulfing her on a stage. The title read, Aviva’s Agent Publicly Admits to Her Drinking Problems.

“And why would that be?” Harry asked. We all were sitting in the office of some huge rock-star, who apparently had a thing for painting, judging by the framed canvases upon the walls, which were also splattered with purple and green and blue paint.

The desk was a mess with brushes, as though in the owner’s free-time, he or she threw the utensils at the walls to create a unique yet ugly pattern on the plaster. Orange twirling chairs were positioned on either side of the room’s door, and cushions had been sat on the rug.

“Have you recently looked up who we’re supposed to be dealing with?” Liam answered, holding up the magazine. “Aviva Thatcher. From that Disney show, Anita and Addie? Yeah, well, a lot has happened since that show ended. She is absolutely insane.”

“It’s not as though we all haven’t made mistakes,” I said, yanking the magazine from his hand. “Fame gets to people. Have you seen anything about interesting celebrities lately? Like, something that is not about their private affairs?”

“I dunno,” Louis said, turning in the orange swivel chair. “Aviva looks pretty interesting, and she most certainly isn’t afraid to let people know of her ‘private affairs’. She’s dyed her hair fifty colors in the past two months.”

“Her follicles must be messed up,” Harry muttered.

“You all are almost as bad as the reporters.” I got up from one of the cushions, examining the wall. “Maybe she has her reasons for dying her hair.”

“I’m starting to think that all the gases and acids or whatever from the paint on the wall are starting to get to Niall’s brain. Killing the cells in there,” Louis joked, smiling. “If we’re in here much longer, we might just have to replace him with that deranged Aviva!”




“I can not believe you!” I shrieked as my agent, Sterling, and I speed-walked through the corridors of the studio, towards my office. “You seriously thought that getting me a collaboration tour and album with the biggest boyband on Earth would get me some fame back?”  My newly dyed black hair bled into my white shirt, and my stained bright orange pants were beginning to make me think that yes, I did need a boyband to make me look good.

Especially with how things had been going lately. The press want hot details on your sex life - not hot details on your hissy fits on stage.

Unfortunately for them, I don’t want STDs, so they will have to wait for the inside scoop on that sort of thing.

But that did not mean that I absolutely needed a boyband. I could get along well enough by myself, and if all else fails, I can always move in with Garrison and Madeline, even if it would mean sleeping on that horrid brown couch.

“Yeah, I thought it’d be great!” Sterling said, flashing his gray eyes at me with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Sterling, though a young man and quite a handsome one at that, did not understand how I felt about being paired up with some band that didn’t even share my style of music. I really should fire him right now, but then again, I don’t want to take a detour to Garrison’s living room.

I kept my mouth shut, for the most part. Let him explain himself. “See, Av-” I hate when he calls me that. “- I thought that it would get us more from the press. And if everything runs smoothly, you might even end up dating Harry Styles, and what will that get you?”

Um, I’ll be in Hell, warming my toes before I date him.

“It will get you hate from Fangirls on twitter! The press will talk, the albums will sell, we make another one, you do a hideous break up with Styles, and then BANG! Fame!”

“Life isn’t a fairy tale, Sterling!” I said. “It’s not going to go smoothly, especially not on my watch.” Sterling paused in the hallway, running his fingers through his blonde hair.

“Oh, come now, Aviva! It’d be exactly like that one D-Com movie…. With Selena Gomez!” I rolled my eyes, tapping my foot as he attempted to grasp the movie title from his scattered brain. “Ah! Another Cinderella Story! Her evil step-mom is trying to do that duet with Joey Parker - yeah, that’s his name - to help her achieve some more fame before she retires!”

He grinned like a freakish doll, rubbing his hands together. “The only difference is, this a boyband and you will succeed at the duet! You don’t happen to have a step-sister who charms boys easily though, right?”

“That was a horrid example, Sterling. And, I saw that movie. I am not a forty year old grandma who needs some other hip star to bring her up the charts again! I’m Aviva, and I’ll bring myself up, thank you, very much!”

“With songs like ‘Leaning Towards the Bad Side’ on your record, Av, you’re not going up anywhere. Especially not with your self-esteem.” He began to walk again, and I ran up to catch up as he continued to speak, “Although the chorus is a bit catchy. I walk the fragile line, between good and bad. But I’m leaning towards the bad-

“Um, no.” I threw out my finger to hush him. “Don’t even try it, Sterling. I don’t want this partnership. If I fall, I fall.”

“I’ve never been the type of agent to let his clients fall so quickly,” Sterling said. “So you’re doing this deal, even if you have to tear your hair out to write those songs.”

I gritted my teeth together, tugging on my shirt. “This is absolutely mad.

“No, this is not mad,” Sterling said, finally reaching the door to my office. He yanked it open, only to reveal five boys. A weird idiot with a European looking hairstyle, a boy who looked like Jack Frost Gone Bleach-Blonde, a man with a ghost of a beard across his chin and dark eyes, and last, a man with even crazier hair than the first one, and green eyes.

My jaw dropped,  and Sterling continued, “But according to the press, you are.”

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