We got to the venue the next morning far too early in the morning than what I would like to think about. One Direction would be opening up for Big Time Rush for a few dates in the US and Canada, while also participating in some promotional stuff for Up All Night, which was coming out in a few weeks. Needless to say, I was expecting screaming girls at this (I had seen the ones in the UK already), but I wasn’t expecting them to be lining the streets outside the stadium at 8 in the morning – especially in the snow. Madness.

The boys were shuttled off to work do some more interviews and to actually meet Big Time Rush, but not before leaving me with a list of things they wanted before the show started. Some were rather strange requests (tennis balls, a lightsaber, and a life-size bust of David Beckham), but mostly they just wanted food, which was easy enough to find. However, I wasn’t about to venture into the cold alone.

“Josh!” I yelled across the open expanse to the other side of the arena.

The drummer looked up from his phone and grinned when he saw me heading toward him. “Hullo JJ,” he replied. “What are you up to?”

“I have to go shopping,” I replied, holding up the list Louis had given me. “Care to join?”

Josh looked at his watch. “Sure, why not? Let me grab Sandy to see if he wants to go, as well.”

Twenty minutes later, I was standing with the drummer and bass player in a magical place called Target, which, luckily, had almost anything you could ever want, including the items on the boys’ list (except for David Beckham). We were pretty much stocked up on food when we got to the toy section.

“These are brilliant,” Sandy said, holding up a massive toy water pistol. “We should get some.”

“And fill it with something besides water,” Josh agreed, a devilish look on his face. I liked these boys.

“Pickle juice?” I offered, holding up one of the large jars we had packed. For some unknown reason, the boys always wanted pickles before a show, particularly Louis and Niall. I don’t know why, but had a sneaking suspicion they might be pregnant.

“I like where your mind is at, Tommo,” Sandy grinned, dropping three of the SuperSoakers in the cart.

We also were able to purchase some Razor Scooters, an obnoxious amount of Silly String, fun floaty things for future pool adventures, and a miniature karaoke machine. We would never be bored again!

By the time we got back to the venue, Sandy and Josh had to go do some sound checks and the boys were still MIA, so I was left to my own devices. I unpacked the food in the dressing room, before taking all of our new toys to the tour bus, which was what we would be leaving in after the show. Apparently, it was a lot less hassle to travel this way, rather than fly, which was fine with me. Unfortunately, I was sharing a bus with the boys, which meant my personal space was at a minimum.

After unpacking what I could and hiding some SillyString canisters for my own use in the space under my bunk, I realized that I really didn’t have much to do, which was disappointing. I thought maybe trying to distract the boys from the interviews might be fun, so I headed back toward the venue.

As soon as I stepped off of the bus, there was a roar. Well, it was more like a roar of screams. Apparently, through a chain link fence, a massive group of girls could see though to the busses and had seen me exit.

“We love Big Time Rush!” They screeched.

“Woohoo,” I said back, waving my arms slightly. This, for some reason, got them even more excited.

“Where are the boys?” Some girl cried, her poster pressed against the fence.

“I don’t know,” I replied, shrugging. I doubted she could hear me over the squeals of her companions.

“Is that their bus!?”

“Oh my gawd, do you know Big Time Rush?!”

“KENDALL, I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES!”

For a second, I was a little scared of this group of girls. I had seen Directioners en-masse just like this and they could be an terrifying group, but then I thought that this might add some good entertainment for me. Besides, I had a chain link fence to protect me from any fangirl surge.

I headed over to the fence and the girls actually quieted down.

“Hello girls,” I greeted, giving the group a once over. They were all younger than me, except for maybe one or two. There were about twenty of them standing there, all bundled up and holding BTR posters. “Are you coming to the show tonight?”

“No,” the girl from before said sadly. “We don’t have tickets.”

“But I wanted to come see Big Time Rush for my birthday!” added a shorted girl in front, who looked to be the first’s little sister. She was maybe six years old and looked like she was freezing, poor girl. “Do you think they’ll come outside?”

I wanted to tell them that I didn’t even know what the guys from BTR looked like, but instead I merely shrugged.

“I don’t know, I think they’re doing interviews and things.”

“Well, can you tell them that they are my favorite band?” she continued, brushing some dark curly hair from her eyes and pulling her knit cap down tighter. “My name is Maya and I just love them so much!”

“Uh, sure, Maya. I’ll tell them.” She looked so ecstatic that I actually felt like I should do something a bit more. Squatting down so I was eye-level with her, I nodded at her poster. “Did you make that all yourself?”

“Yep,” she beamed. “Ronnie only helped a little,” she looked up at her older sister, who I assumed to be Ronnie.

“Well, it is very creative,” I complimented. “I love the..um..the glitter.” It certainly looked like Maya used about three tubes of glitter on the poster, or that Kesha had thrown up on it.

“Who are you anyway?” asked a blonde girl to my right, almost accusingly. “I bet you don’t even know Big Time Rush.”

I stood up and looked at her, trying to comprehend if she was really calling me out on this. “Um, no, to be honest, I don’t know them,” I replied, looking apologetically at Maya.

“See,” she said over her should to a friend. “I told you. Just some stage hand or something.”

“Um, actually - ” I started, not really to correct her, but to ask why she thought being a stage hand was a bad thing, but she cut me off.

"Where are you from anyway?"

Shit, I thought.

“Canadian,” I replied, putting on what I thought was a Canadian accent. “From Quebec. Eh.”

“You’re not Canadian,” the blonde shot back. “You’re from England.”

“Oh, you caught me,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Well done, you.”

“Oh my God,” one her friends said then, pushing poor Maya out of the way to get a better look at me. “You’re English?”

“Did I stutter?”

The girl didn’t miss a beat. “You’re with One Direction, aren’t you?”

Double Shit. Suddenly, there was a flurry within the group as girls got more and more excited. To be honest, I was surprised it took them so long to make the connection, but I wasn’t planning on staying around long enough to answer anymore questions.

“Well, it was nice chatting,” I said, starting to turn around.

“Wait!” cried blondie. “Can’t you at least get them to come out so we can get a picture?"

The way she said it was extremely aggravating to me, as the boys were only good enough for a picture, or that I was a complete waste of space if I didn't provide them with some celebrity access. I stared at her for a moment, unable to believe the balls she had. I was going to tell her to shove her pictures where the sun doesn’t shine, but I had a better idea.

“Hey Maya,” I said, ignoring the blonde. The young girl fought her way forward again. “How would you like me to get you poster signed for you?”

I literally thought she was going to explode from her excitement. “Oh my God, that would amazing!” she squealed and her older sister thanked me profusely. Ronnie tossed the fluorescent pink poster over the fence for me and the blonde girl huffed in annoyance.

“I’ll be back,” I said to Maya.

I took my leave of them, dragging the obnoxiously large poster behind me into the venue. Of course, I had no idea what Big Time Rush looked like, so getting their autographs was going to be a bit difficult, but I really just wanted to get the blonde to shut up.

I headed back towards the boys’ green room, thinking they might be able to direct me towards the main act, when I turned a corner and ran straight into some one. I wasn’t hurt, I didn’t even fall over, but Maya’s poster slammed into me and when I pulled it away I was covered in silver glitter.

“Fuckin’ hell,” I cursed, looking down at my dark blue jeans and black pea coat.

“I’m sorry, are you alright?”

I looked up at the guy I ran into. He was tall, with a Justin Bieber haircut, wearing a leather jacket and a scarf. He was pretty good looking, but the fact that he had just covered me in glitter discounted any appeal he may have had.

“I’ve been better,” I mumbled, trying to wipe some of it off of me.

He looked at me and then at the poster, then his faced dropped slightly.

“Um, how...how did you get back here?”

“Huh?” I asked, eloquently.

“How did you get back here?” He repeated, his eyes not leaving the poster.

I looked around, wondering if I was on a hidden camera show or something. “Um...through the door? How did you get back here?”

He blinked at me. “Oh, well, I...” I stared at him expectantly. When he decided he didn’t want to answer that, he pointed to the poster. “Are you here to get that signed?”

I looked down at it. “Yes, actually. So if you could point me in the right direction, that would be - ” But I stopped when he sighed and pulled a Sharpie out of his back pocket. “Oh,” I said, realization dawning on me. “Are you one of them?”

He looked up from signing the poster. “What?”

“Are you a, oh what do you call it...a Big Time Rush guy?” I asked, trying not to sound like too big of an idiot. He looked at me like I was one, though.

“Yeah, I’m James,” he replied, as though it was obvious.

“Right,” I said, nodding. “James.”

A wide grin spread across his face as he looked down at me. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

“Not a bloody clue,” I admitted. “I just got this poster from some girl outside, wanted it signed.”

“I see,” he nodded. “And you are?”

“Oh, I’m JJ. I’m with One Direction.”

“Should have known from your accent,” he replied. “Great guys, we just met a few minutes ago.”

“Well, that’s why I keep them around. So, um, do you think you can point me to the others so I can get them to sign this too?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” he said, turning around and motioning for me to follow. “Sorry about the glitter,” he said as he headed down the corridor. “That stuff never comes off.”

“Great.”

“So what do you do for One Direction?” he asked conversationally.

“I’m kind of an assistant, merch girl, all around personal slave,” I replied shrugging. “Louis is my brother,” I added, as he sent me a questioning look.

“Oh, that must be fun.”

“Well, we’ve only just started, so my only duties have been grocery shopping, really.”

James nodded and turned down another hall, before stopping at a door. Upon entrance, everyone else looked up at us, including an older gentleman with graying hair.

“James!” he barked from the couch, standing up and coming towards us. “You can’t be bringing fans back here, you know the rules. I’m sorry dear, but you’re going to have to-”

“I am not a fan,” I said quickly, taking a step away and bumping into James in the process. “I mean, I know how it looks, but I’m honestly just trying to get this signed for some actual fans.”

“Oh, right,” the older man said. “Sorry about that.” His phone rang then and he ducked out of the room.

“Sorry about Charlie, he can be a little intense about security,” James apologized. “You wouldn’t believe some of the crazy things fans have done to meet us. But these are the other guys,” he said, pointing to three other boys spread around the room. “Carlos, Logan and Kendall.” Each of the boys waved at me from their spots. “Guys, this is JJ. She’s with 1D.”

"Oh, Kendall!" I said, and the blonde guy looked up at me, confused. "Some girl outside wants to have your babies...in case you're at all interested."

"Uh, thanks..."

“Do you mind signing this for a fan who is outside. It’s her birthday and has been out there for a while...”

“Yeah, of course,” Carlos said, taking the poster from me.

“I will,” Logan said, standing up and coming toward me. “But only if you can tell me what this is...”

I stared him and then at the item he was holding. “It’s a water bottle.”

He cracked up laughing and I looked at James in confusion. “He likes the accent,” he explained, before smacking his friend on the shoulder. Logan and Kendall each signed the poster as well and handed it back to me. James followed me back out into the corridor.

“Thanks again for the autographs,” I said. “Maya will really love them.”

“It’s not problem,” he shrugged. “Though, I’m sorry again about the glitter.”

“In the grand scheme of things, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Are you sure there isn’t some way I can make it up to you?” He asked, smiling down at me.

I struck me then that he was flirting with me and I was completely thrown off by that. I wasn’t really flirted with that often – Harry didn’t count – so to have a fairly good-looking American lad trying to chat me up was a bit strange.

“Um...well, two tickets for the show might do it?” I tried, thinking only of that blonde girl out in the parking lot.

**

“Hey Maya,” I called and she looked over to where I was walking up. Almost immediately, she started squealing – as did everyone else in the group.

Ignoring my protests, James had decided to come out to the fence with me to deliver Maya’s poster to her. Of course, the girls recognized him right away and began snapping pictures and crying out, trying to get his attention. The Blonde girl was the loudest among them.

“James! I love you! You’re so hot!”

I was pleasantly surprised when he out right ignored her, instead focusing all his attention on Maya, who was nearly in tears as he knelt down in front of her.

“Is this your poster?” He asked, motioning to what I was holding. She nodded through her tears, so thrilled to meet her idol.

“Well, Maya I have to say that this is a beautiful poster. I’ve also heard that it’s your birthday. How old are you?”

But Maya couldn’t respond, she was hyperventilating so much. “She just turned seven,” Ronnie supplied for her. James smiled.

“Seven is quite possibly the best age to be. Especially at a concert.” Ronnie’s eyes lit up, but it was clear Maya wasn’t quite comprehending. “Do you want to come see the show, Maya?” James asked the young girl.

“Yes, yes please!” Maya said then, still crying tears of happiness.

“Well, it’s lucky for you that I have two tickets here.” He pulled them out of his pocket and held them up for her to see. “Front row, too.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the pure joy on Maya’s face (and the complete jealousy on the blonde’s), even if I couldn’t really understand the obsession. James handed the tickets to Ronnie, who’s hands were shaking in excitement.

“Doors open in two hours,” he said, standing up again. “Go grab some dinner or something and get warm.”

“Thank you so much!” Maya beamed.

“Anytime, beautiful,” James replied. “I hope you enjoy the show. Bye, everyone,” he called then, waving to the increasingly bigger group.

“Thank you!” Maya cried again, but this time she was directing it toward me. I smiled at her, giving a small wave, before James tugged on my arm to go back inside.

“That was really great of you,” I acknowledged, once we got back inside and out of the frigid weather. “You made her life.”

“It was the least I can do,” he smiled back.

We headed back to the dressing rooms and met Zayn coming out of 1D’s. He gave a nod in hello to James, before turning to me.

“Did you get us any pickles?”

“They’re in the fridge,” I replied.

“No, they aren’t!” I heard Louis yell from inside the room.

“Look behind the orange juice!” I called back.

“Oh. Found them!”

“Pickles?” James questioned, looking between us.

“Don’t ask,” I replied, rolling me eyes. “Right, well, thanks again James.”

I was about to head into the room, but James caught me up in a hug before I had a chance. “It was great to meet you, JJ,” he said, before pulling away. “See you around, okay?”

Zayn and I watched him retreat down the hallway towards his dressing room. Once he had disappeared from view, Zayn turned and shot me a look.

“What?” I asked, pushing past him as he started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Louis demanded, half of a dill pickle sticking out of his mouth.

“JJ’s got a boyfriend,” Zayn replied, putting on his Pakistani accent, like he did whenever he got goofy.

“I do not, you twat,” I replied, punching him on the shoulder. He pouted and rubbed the spot, before heading over to the make up chair where Lou was waiting for him.

“A boyfriend?” Harry asked from the couch, Baby Lux sitting on his lap. “We’ve only been here one day and you’ve already got a boyfriend? Well done, Tommo, you dirty girl. Get in!”

“No,” Louis said, standing up. “There will be no getting in. JJ, who is it?”

“It’s no one,” I replied tiredly, sitting on the arm of Niall’s chair.

“It’s James from Big Time Rush,” Zayn answered for me.

Louis looked thoughtful for a moment, before nodding. “Yeah, I think I could take him.”,

“Louis,” I said sternly. “Calm down. You do not need to beat any one up. I just got him to sign a poster for a fan, that’s all.”

“Well, that better be the only thing he’s signing,” Louis replied, trying to sound tough. It really didn’t work well on him, especially when he was wearing pastel colored trousers and suspenders.

“Right,” I replied, wanting to change the subject. Luckily for me, Paul came in then with the final run through for the show.

“Okay lads, the doors are opening at six. You go on at 7:00pm sharp and have a thirty-minute set. As usual, we have the set list taped to the floor, but here it is just in case.” He handed them all sheets of paper. “Just remember that we are doing ‘I Want’ in stead of ‘Moments’ and not doing ‘Beautiful’ until the very end.”

“Got it, boss,” Liam said, the only one of the group who was actually paying attention to what their manager was saying. Zayn was having his hair done up and arguing with Lou about much hairspray to use; Harry was cooing over Lux; Louis was flexing his barely-there muscles in the full length mirror and Niall was halfway through a meatball sub and dripping marinara sauce all over himself (luckily he hadn’t changed into his performance clothes yet).

“Come here, Nialler,” I said, grabbing a napkin from the counters and wiping his chin for him.

“Thanks, Mum,” he laughed.

“Anytime, sweetums.”

“So, JJ, you’ve gotten the playlist all set?” Paul asked, looking over at me.

“Yep,” I replied, moving over to where my bag was in the corner. I dug through and found my iPad, a Christmas gift from Louis, and held it up for me. “Right here.”

“And they are all appropriate songs?” he asked. Clearly, he was learning from being on the road with Louis and knew me well enough to know that my brother and I were pretty alike, especially when it came to pranks.

I winced slightly. “That depends on how you define appropriate.” Paul gave me a look and I sighed, making a show of skimming through the playlist. “Well, I guess ‘Ni**as in Paris’ is out then.”

Niall burst out laughing and Harry smiled widely. “I love that song!”

Paul stared at me. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“No,” I replied. “I’m not an idiot, Paul, give me some credit.” Paul looked relieved while the boys looked disappointed.

“That shit cray,” Harry pouted, looking down at Lux for some sympathy. She spit up on him.

“Let me take a take a look at it,” Paul said, holding out his hand and clearly not believing me.

Frowning, I handed him the iPad. He scrolled through the list before stopping and looking up at me.

“JJ, you do realize that our target audience is about sixteen years old, right? Not to mention the fact that they are American.”

“So?”

“So,” he said, handing me back the iPad. “They probably aren’t going to know songs by David Bowie or The Kinks or Oasis.”

“Well, I’ll be educating them, then.”

“You’ve put the entire White Album on there.”

“I really don’t see why that is a problem...”

Paul sighed and rubbed his temples. “You need to make a new one.”

“What?” I asked, shocked. I head spent nearly half the flight putting this together. “And put what on it? This is great music!”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “How about The Wanted or Britney Spears or Chris Brown? Try some Justin Bieber for Christ sake!”

Louis let out an audible gasp at that and all eyes were on me. I stared at Paul, horribly offended.

“I’m sorry,” I said, standing slowly. “But do I look like someone who would have Justin bloody Bieber on my iPod?”

Paul rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, JJ. All I’m saying is - ”

“No,” I cut him off. “Just, no. I’ll do what you want. I’ll put on the music you think they want to hear. But know this, Paul Higgins,” I walked up to him and pointed at his face, ignoring the fact that he towered over me. “Just know that forty years from now, when you’re old and crippled and bedridden, it’s going to be this generation that will be taking care of you.”

I pointed in the air and, as if on cue, the girls outside in line let out a scream.

“They are going to be taking care of you,” I continued, as he stared down at me, unimpressed. “And you, in your incapacitated, semi-conscious state, aren’t going to be able to stop them when they decide to play some of their favorite songs, hoping to soothe you in your final hours. You are going to be lying there, motionless and helpless, as they make you listen to Ke$ha and Miley Cyrus and Nickelback over and over and over again. And in your last moments, you’ll think back on this choice your making and wish you could come back and change it all. You will rue this decision,” I ended dramatically, picking up my things. “Rue it, I say!”

Everyone stared at me for a few stunned seconds. Then, Harry stood up and began clapping slowly, but Louis pulled him back down to his seat, as Niall, Liam and Zayn all tied to hide their snickering. Paul shot them all a look.

“Asking me to play Justin Bieber,” I muttered, slinging my bag over my shoulder. I was going to need my computer for this, so it was back to the bus for me.

“We need it in twenty minutes!” Paul called after me as I headed out the door.

I didn’t turn around, but continued, smiling slightly when I heard the boys burst into laughter.