I very nearly spit out my coffee. “I’m sorry,” I said, choking, “You work for One Direction? And you didn’t bother to tell me?” I pushed my chair back and stood, getting ready to head back to the flat and lock myself in there for the rest of my life. There was no way I was going to hang around One Direction all day. I could barely have a conversation with a normal person, and they were world sensations! There wasn’t a place on this earth where One Direction wasn’t heard of, except maybe Antarctica.

Even then.

“I wanted it to be a surprise! I knew a day would come when I’d bring you to work with me and I knew you wouldn’t come if you knew who I worked for.” She smirked at me, and I glared back. Her smile faltered a little bit. “Plus, I already bought you coffee. I believe you said that as long as I provided caffeine, you would do what I want. No backing out now! I call the Coffee Pact.” Carah bared her bright white teeth in a triumphant smile as I groaned and sat back down. The Coffee Pact was unbreakable, and the consequences severe. We came up with it the first time I visited her in London a few years ago when I spent all my money on souvenirs and wanted a caffeine boost. Carah had wanted to go do something weird and touristy and said she’d buy the coffee as long as I did what she wanted. Thus the Coffee Pact was born. A bought coffee in either direction guaranteed the other person giving up their free will.

I guess this time it was One Direction.

In the back of my mind, a little voice was yelling at me for being so against this. I was getting a free chance to meet the most popular boy band of our generation, and I wanted to stay home and watch television.

“Fine. You win, but only because of the Coffee Pact,” I conceded, sipping my coffee slowly, my heart beating nervously in my chest.

The pair of us got up to leave the shop, me still clutching a mostly-full cup.

Carah called over a taxi and it pulled over to the curb with a screech of rubber grinding against cement. I winced, but climbed in anyway, Carah right behind me. She gave the driver -- an old, friendly-looking man with laugh lines aging his face -- the address and pushed some money through the little window.

“I could have paid,” I said absently, staring out the window and fumbling in my bag for my wallet. A different song began to play, one with a catchy beat and a lot of pointless lyrics. Most songs on my iPod were just for distraction, it kept me from thinking all the time and that was what I wanted.

“Oh please, this is my daily commute. Why change the schedule?” Carah brushed it off with a laugh. She stared at me for a moment, as if she were analyzing my face and committing it to memory. A weight tugged at my heart. “Are you alright?” She asked quietly, blue eyes boring into my green ones.

I stared down at my hands, fiddling with a metallic ring that had a blue flower carved into it. “I’m not sure,” I admit honestly.

“You don’t have to go if you really don’t want to,” Carah said, placing a hand on top of mine in my lap. I could feel the warmth from her palm spreading onto mine.

“No, I need to do this, I owe it to you to do something you want for a change.”

She simply nodded, smiled a tiny bit, and sat back into the black tearing leather of the taxi.

After about ten minutes, the cab pulled into a stop in front of a large building. It was strangely desolate outside, with except of two hulking security guards standing beside the entrance.

The sun had fully risen, the temperature of this late June morning already rising to meet it. In a few hours I won’t even need my jacket.

Carah walked right up to the first one, a man whose shoulder cleared the top of my head, and flashed a little slip of paper at him.

“Carah! Long time no see, love,” He said in a deep bass voice, the other guard echoing his sentiment. “I thought you were taking the week off?” His eyes float over Carah’s head to me, questioning.

“Management called me, apparently something interesting is happening today and they absolutely need me here!” She replied sarcastically. “I was supposed to be spending the day with bestie over there, but instead she gets to tag along. Enjoy the life of catering to the famous.” Carah gestured over to me, and I gave a small wave before stepping a few feet closer to her.

The guard chuckled. “Are you sure Management will go for bringing a stranger in? You know how mad those fans are.”

“I don’t give a damn what Management thinks. They’re calling me in on my day off, I can bring whoever the bloody hell I want.” Carah had been living in London long enough that she sometimes slipped into a tiny bit of an accent, using slang and everything. She denied it, but the proof was still there.

“Well enjoy yourselves, ladies, and don’t get too close to any fans that happen to be foaming at the mouth.” Carah tugged on my arm and pulled me inside, the guard shutting the door behind her and standing back to attention.

“Why is it so quiet here? I thought this place would be bursting with people.” I asked, my voice echoing in the large lobby. Everything seemed new and clean and there were plaques on the walls with platinum and silver records on them. A receptionist sat behind her desk, acknowledging us with a smile before returning to her typing. I could see this place as something come out of a dream, not real life.

“The boys haven’t arrived yet. The crowds come when they do.” She pressed the up button beside the elevator, tapping her fingers against the wall as we waited for the ding that announced its arrival.

“And they arrive… when?”

“Nine-thirty or so, I think. Never really bothered to check.” I glanced down at my watch, the glass face and golden hands declaring that it was nearly nine right now. A ball of worry began to form in the pit of my stomach.

“Stop worrying, Lin. You’ll be fine, the boys are friendly people, and they’ll make you feel right at home here. Who knows, you might even want to come back one day,” She smirked as we exited the elevator – lift or whatever you wanted to call it and made our way to a big conference room. There were already a few sophisticated-looking men and women in suits, jotting things down on paper or sipping mugs of cloudy tea. I always forget that tea is the drink of choice here. They seemed rather friendly, smiling at us politely.

Carah left me to sit on a couch towards the back of the room, a red and white one with circular cushions that were as soft as clouds. I stretched out completely, slipping off my sandals and putting in the other ear bud. The outside world was drowned out by the sounds of Ellie Goulding, and I began to hum along to Salt Skin.

I don’t know how long I’d been lying there for, but a commotion managed to cut its way through the music. I began to move to see what it was, when my ear buds were ripped out of my ears. My eyes flew open, to come to face to face with a pair of blue eyes that were definitely not Carah’s.

“Oi, who’s this?” The blue-eyed boy asked, his voice holding a thick Irish accent. His blond hair was messy and tucked beneath a snap-back. I didn’t need to ask to know what his name was: Niall Horan, one-fifth of One Direction.

Without the headphones, I could hear the screaming girls outside, their voices piercing through the thick glass windows.
“Leave her alone, Niall! You aren’t supposed to disturb people while they’re sleeping!” Another familiar voice added, and I turned to see the other four boys standing there and smirking.

Oh my God, I was in the same room as One Direction.

I think it had been Liam who spoke, and I sat upright, slipping my sandals back on. My heart was beating wildly from the rubber band ball of nerves that kept on growing in my stomach like a tumor.

I looked over to Carah for help, but she was sitting a table sorting out papers with a smug smile plastered all over her face. Damn Coffee Pact.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” I said, standing up and smoothing out my shirt. I ran a hand through my hair, my eyes still open wide.

“Of course you weren’t, you were humming, weren’t you?” Niall said excitedly, still gripping my head phones in a death grip in his hand. He was just as hyper in person as everyone else had made him out to be.

“Yeah…” I said slowly, still at a loss for words.

“Lads, I think she’s a bit starstruck,” A voice on the end of the line of boys said. My eyes followed it to the source, which was Louis Tomlinson. His face was mischievous and a playful smile tugged up either side of his lips. His blue eyes glinted with curiosity. “What’s your name, love?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Just then, Carah decided to make her grand entrance. I knew she wouldn’t want to watch me flounder helplessly for too long. “Hello boys,” She said brightly, and they all chorused back a variety of hellos.

“Is the mute one with you?” Harry questioned, low and drawing out every word. I winced.

“Harry Styles, I’ll have you know that this is my best friend in the entire goddamned world and if you aren’t nice to her they’ll have to make Niall the new poster boy of your pretty little boyband,” Carah threatened, and I choked on a laugh. She smiled, but Harry looked slightly frightened.

“And her name is…” Niall asked, trailing off and almost bouncing up and down.

“Her name, boys, is Linnie Gordon, and she’s here from America for sixth months. Treat her nice or you’ll have to deal with me personally.” Carah threw an arm around my shoulders to bring the message home.

“Hello Linnie!” Niall said first, wrapping me in an unexpected hug and handing me back the ear buds. I put one in and smiled at him.

“Please, don’t call me Linnie. My name is Carly, and Carah is just determined to ruin my life with a childhood nickname,” I said, shooting my best friend a glare. She did that one purpose, to get me to say something. Only she has permission to call me Linnie, and that’s because she refuses to call me anything else.

“Don’t lie to your new friends, Lin, Carly is a nickname too. I’m choosing which one I want to use.” Carah had a smile on her face that only meant bad things.

She wouldn’t dare.

“Don’t,” I warned, stepping closer to her and pointing a finger at her.

“Don’t what?” She said innocently, batting her eyelashes and opening them wide, as if she were Bambi and I was the hunter who killed his mother.

“I’m finding this strangely amusing,” Louis remarked, and the other boys nodded in agreement. My face burned red, my cheeks flamed with scarlet.

“C’mon, my dearest Linnie, might as well come clean now. Do I have to bring the Coffee Pact back into action?”

“I will get you for this,” I whispered menacingly to her, before turning to face the boys. “Before I tell you my actual name, please keep in mind that my mother is a botanist.”

They all looked confused, Zayn even reaching up to scratch his head, managing to do it without disturbing his quiff.

“My actual name is Carlineae. It’s part of a branch in the Cynareae tribe of thistles. My mother was obsessed with thistles and decided to name me after them.” I stared down at my feet, waiting for the laughter.
There was silence, and I could really hear it this time, the absence of my ear buds made an almost physical different in my demeanor.

“I think that’s a pretty name,” Harry said, shrugging before giving me a heart-stopping smile. It spread across his face and two dimples were sliced into his cheeks, revealing pearly white teeth. “Carlineae,” he said again, trying out the name on his tongue. I rather liked the sound of it, when he said it.

“Yeah, well, try spelling that when you’re in elementary school,” I said sarcastically, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ll stick with Carly.”

“Well, Carly,” Liam said, “I’m Liam, that’s Niall,” he pointed to the hyper Irishman still bouncing on his feet. “The one staring at his reflection in the mirror is Zayn,” He gestured to Zayn, who had wondered off and actually was looking at his reflection, gently fixing his hair, though not a single strand of it was out of place. “And the two attached at the hip are Harry and Louis. Please ignore everything that comes out of their mouths.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “Your faces are everywhere and there are screaming girls attempting to force their way into this building.” I don’t know what was with me; it was never this easy for me to talk to people, let alone celebrities with their own cult group of fans dedicated to them. Who happened to be as good looking as they are.

“I like you,” Niall said, bouncing over to me and placing his hands on my shoulders. “Carah, you make great friend choices, can we keep her?”

This time I smiled, and it was the first real one in a very long time. ‹ Chapter 1

Notes

second chapter whoop!