Apparently my timing was perfect, because it was their last tour date for the summer, and they were definitely one of my favorites. But, because it was so last minute, I'd had to pay big bucks to get the front row ticket and backstage pass. It put a bit of a dent in my savings for this adventure I was on, but not a big enough dent to stop me from going.
As soon as I'd eaten my hotdog, I went to the airport and booked the first flight out to New Jersey. I'd arrived with enough time to rent a car, and get to the concert half an hour early.
I jumped out of the car with my handbag on my shoulder, and locked the doors, joining the army of people marching towards the entrance. I waited in line for ten minutes, listening in on the excitement of girls half my age, exploding at just the thought of seeing One Direction live in concert. I smiled at their carefree attitudes, and willed myself to follow their suit. That was the purpose of my adventure, after all, to forget about everything, and just do the things I'd always wanted to do.
The security at the front collected my ticket, and handed me over to a woman with a clipboard, when he saw that I was to be backstage. She was the same 5'4 height that I was, dressed in a pencil skirt and stylish button up shirt. I couldn't quite tell what color her hair was in the dim light of the stadium, neither could I hear her voice over the screams of the pubescent girls around me. After a few seconds of trying to shout over the noise, she just laughed and signaled me to follow her.
We swerved through the crowd, and I kept my eyes focused on her black pumps, hoping that I didn't loose her along the way. After a few minutes of weaving around people, we arrived at a huge door, guarded by security. She flashed them her pass, and motioned to tell them that I was with her. They nodded curtly, and opened the doors allowing us in.
As soon as the doors shut behind us, it felt like there was complete silence. It was only the contrast of the volumes that made it feel that way, because If I listened closely, I could hear the girls still screaming outside, but it was muffled.
The woman smiled at me and began to speak, her voice bouncing off of the walls of the empty hallway we were in, "Sorry about that," She laughed softly, "I'm Rose, the backstage manager." She stuck out her hand.
I shook it politely, a smile mirroring hers gracing my face, "It's not like you could do anything about it, no need to apologize. I'm Avia."
She dropped my hand, "Nice to meet you, Avia." She turned and started walking down the hallway, "Lets walk and talk." I scuttled along behind her and she continued, "Now, what would you like to do, meet them quickly now, go to your seat, and then come back and see them again?"
I didn't answer; I was too busy turning my head and looking into all the doors that we passed, seeing outfit after outfit, person after person. I could help but question the fact that this was all for a five-person band.
Despite my silence, Rose continued, "Or you could watch the concert from the wings. You could also opt out of meeting them now, and just see them after. Really its all up to you."
I shook my head to clear it. I had to stop trying to absorb every bit of the experience, and live it. "Um, I think I want to meet them now, watch the concert from the wings, and then see them again after." I said, "If that's okay."
She smiled, "Good choice. So I'll just take you to their dressing room now then."
We continued down the hall for another two or three minutes, before Rose stopped at a door and softly knocked on the door and said in a playful voice, "Are you decent?"
The muffled response from the other side of the door was a deeper voice, that sounded a little rough, "Yes, Rose."
She laughed softly before speaking up again, in the same tone, "Decent enough for a stranger?"
This made, who I assumed was Harry Styles laugh, "Yes, Rose. Decent enough for a stranger."
The flirty exchange made me question whether or not these two had something going on, despite what seemed to be a clear age difference between them. Rose let out a bashful giggle, which more or less confirmed my suspicions, and opened the door.
Mr. Styles was clad in black skinny jeans, a navy green t-shirt and grey flannel, an outfit that was quite familiar to me, as I'd seen it in magazines and whatnot. He smiled at me politely.
Rose spoke up, "This is Avia. She has the only backstage pass for tonight. You guys can hang out til you have to go on stage."
He nodded her, telling her he understood, "Cool, Thanks, Rose."
She smiled and started closing the door behind her as she exited, "No prob."
The door clicked shut and Harry set his attention on me. He was quite beautiful, the way his jawline was set, and the color of his hair and green eyes. He walked over and stuck his hand out, "Hi, I'm Harry ."
I shook his hand and smiled, "Avia. As was mentioned before." His hands were calloused; the mark of a true musician. This little fact made me think of thing number ninety-two: Learn how to play guitar.
He smiled and asked, "Excited for the show tonight?" The question seemed very routine, as If he'd said it a million times, to a million different girls he'd met backstage, which he probably had.
I nodded, "Very. I've been to a lot of concerts, but I've never watched one from the wings."
His eyebrows creased together, confused by my comment, "You decided to watch from the wings? You get a much better view from the front row."
I shrugged, "As I said before, I've been to plenty of concerts. I've watched from everywhere between the very back and the very front. I've never watched from the wings. It'll be an experience."
His eyebrows moved from their place of confusion, to a crease of curiosity, "How many of these concerts have been ours?"
I laughed softly because I was slightly embarrassed by my answer, "Sorry, but, none. This is my first One Direction concert."
He smiled and almost looked relieved at the fact that I wasn't a huge, crazy, fan. "So what were those concerts, then?"
I bit my lip trying to remember the majority of them. My father had taken me to almost all of them, teaching me his taste in music. I felt a sudden pang of sadness as I thought of my father, and quickly put the memories away. The point of this adventure was to be happy. "I've been to quite a few Paul McCartney concerts, and a few Rolling Stone ones as well. One or two Aretha Franklin concerts."
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, "You went to those on your own accord?"
I laughed at his disbelief, "No, my Dad took me, in hopes that I would develop the same taste in music."
"And did you?"
I bit my lip, "In a way. The only music I really loved that he showed me was The Beatles."
He smiled, "Well, if you don't like The Beatles, you don't even have bad taste; you just have absolutely no taste in music whatsoever."I laughed at his statement, "Definitely."
There was soft knock on his door; it had the same tenderness that Rose had used when knocking. I wondered why everyone knocked so quietly. Was it because they were afraid to interrupt him in anything he might be doing. That's what the knocking came across to me as; fear.
"Come in." Harry called.
A man who was obviously in his twenties, by the way his hair was spiked and his jeans clung to his legs, opened the door and said, "Five minutes to show time, Harry." I realized he was also holding a clip board, which had me wondering how many people actually worked at one of these concerts.
I sighed at my wondering mind. It had been like this since I'd begun my little journey. It was as if my brain wanted to squeeze every single bit of information in, before it was over.
Harry must have misread my sigh as he quickly said, "Don't worry, we'll get to hang out after the concert too."
I smiled at his assumption; that I had already become so attached to him that the thought of having to end our conversation had me sighing wistfully. I knew he didn't mean it arrogantly, besides, how could he possibly know what was going on in my head? I decided to play along. With a knowing smile I asked, "Promise?"
The smile that spread across his face then was genuine. He was happy that I wanted to talk to him more. My smile mirrored his as I realized, I was happy that he was happy. He had a charm, and we'd clicked.
"Promise." He said, the smile still plastered on his face, showing off his pearly whites. He walked forward and opened the door for me. Who said chivalry was dead?
As we continued down the long corridor, the loud hum of the synchronized screams got louder and louder. I could practically feel the excitement crawling across the air and into my body. I looked at Harry's face, and he had an expression on that I'd never seen before. It was a mixture of shock and excitement.
"What do you feel right now?" I asked, having to shout slightly over the noise. It was a random, out of the blue and most likely, personal question. But, I'd stopped worrying about saying what was on my mind approximately three months ago.
All of a sudden, he grinned and started jumping up and down on the spot. He turned to me and said, "Adrenaline." then ran onto the stage. The screams became impossibly louder as the girls showed their undying love.
I watched from the wings as all five of the boys ran onto the stage. They did the most un-imaginable things there.
Somewhere in the middle of all the madness, I pulled my list from out of my pocket. I unfolded the tattered paper gently, not wanting a piece to rip without having sellotape near by. I smiled at the worn out parchment, as I realized how many things I'd done since I left home A month and a half ago. I had eight left. I had a month left. It was perfect.
I could do these with ease, with all the time I had.
I pulled the pen out of my back pocket and scratched out number eighty-five, with a grin on my face. As soon as I finished I stuffed it back in my pocket, not even able to bare the thought of losing it.
Harry and the boys finished up their last song and walked towards the wings, blowing kisses and waving to their adoring fans.
Harry smiled politely when his eyes met mine, "How did you like it?"
I grinned, "It was great. You're really good at what you do."
His smile widend, "Thanks. Lets get back to the dressing room before people start to ask me to do things."
I followed behind him down the hall, "What kind of things?"
He shrugged with a small laugh, "Shower, pack, you know, things we're all supposed to do."
I let out a laugh at what I hoped was a joke. I mean, hopefully no one had to tell him to have a shower. We reached the door, and he opened it for me once again, making me think his chivalry wasn't forced, but more natural.
I plopped down on a couch at the side of the room, and Harry perched on a table on the opposite side. There was a comfortable silence for a few seconds before Harry spoke up, "You're really pretty, you know."
I smiled at his forwardness, "People don't normally just say whatevers on their mind, you know."
"But you do." He challenged, knowingly. "You seem to just ask whatevers on your mind, without fear.""And?"
"And its interesting."
I shrugged, "Why waste time on worrying about what people will think? Why have unanswered questions in your mind, if there is someone capable of answering them?"
He smiled, "I agree." I responded only with a mirroring smile. He spoke up again, "How long are you here for?"
Shit. That reminded me, I had a plane to catch. I bit my lip, "About an hour."
His eyebrows raised quizzically, "Why so short?"
I smiled, "I have some things to do."
He frowned, "I really wanted to take you to dinner or something."
I smiled apologetically, "I really have to do these eight things."
He raised an eyebrow, "This seems like an excuse so that you don't have to go out with me."
I laughed at his accusation, "I'm not lying, I swear. I'd definitely go to dinner with you if I didn't have to do these things."
He was silent for a few seconds, before a grin crept up onto his face, "Can I help with the eight things, then?"
I blinked, "I don't know you."
"But you will if you'd let me help with the things." He said, a playful smile plastered on his face as he walked closer to me.
"You can't help me with the things." I said, sternly. No one was allowed to help me with the things.
He plopped down on the couch next to me, "Why not? If this isn't just a story, then, why not?"
I sighed as I thought of the real reason. Because no one is supposed to help me. This trip is a solo trip, for so many reasons. You cant help me for so many reasons. "Because the first one is in New Zealand."
His eyes narrowed, "I don't believe you."
"Well, its not really the first one. Its more like, the next one."
He shook his head with a laugh, "I don't believe you."
I shrugged, "It doesn't really matter to me if you believe me or not. You don't really have any reason to believe me anyway."
He bit his lip, probably questioning my legitimacy. "Wheres your plane ticket, then?"
I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but to manage a smile. I dug around in my dark blue handbag until my fingers encountered the paper. I pulled it out and handed it to him triumphantly, "Here you go."
He grabbed the paper and looked closely at it. "Fine, I believe you."
I smiled, "Good."
We sat in silence for a few seconds, both trying to figure out what to say next. I broke the silence as a question popped into my mind, "I take it you're not dating that Rose lady then?"
Harry's eyebrows quickly raised in surprise, his mouth slightly dropping, "She's like, a hundred years old."
I put a hand to my face to stifle my laugh, "Hardly, Harry! She's like, in her late twenties, if even that old!"
His face twisted into one of disgust, "That's like asking if I'm dating one of my Mom's friends."
My smile twisted into a playful one. They way he looked when upset about something was adorable. His eyebrows creased in the middle, making those little lines on his forehead, that I wanted to just reach out and smooth, yet, the amusement made me want them to stay there forever. "That doesn't answer my question."
"No!" He exclaimed quickly, "I'm not dating that Rose lady. She's one of the stage managers. Why would you think that, anyway?"
My smile dropped slightly, as I realized he was oblivious, "She was flirting with you, so much. It was ridiculous."
He chuckled, "No she wasn't." I rolled my eyes at his clear denial. He just laughed, again. "Don't roll your eyes at me!"
"I'll roll my eyes all I want." I said with a soft laugh.
He was looking straight at me, when his face suddenly became the mask of bewilderment,
"Hey," He said quietly, like, if he spoken any louder, it would disturb something, "We have matching eyes."
Before I could even get a good look at his orbs, to see if they truly matched mine, he'd already pulled me to the mirror on the other side of the room. There were lights shining from the top and sides of the mirror, that made our eyes light up.
It was true, we both had the same green eyes so light, they could almost be gold. I smiled as I looked at his, and felt the strangest sense of familiarity. Kept looking back and forth, comparing them. They looked lighter on me, because of the contrast they had with my long, brunette locks, opposed to dark brunette. Somehow, I felt as if they suited him better. I smiled and said quietly, "They look better on you."
He laughed and turned, reaching out a hand to touch my cheek, "No way."
The smile stayed on my face, but I said, "I really have to go. I have a plane to catch."
His smile turned into a sad one, and my heart sunk, "Alright." I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, "I really wish I got to know you, Avia."
My face mirrored his as I said, "Same here, Harry. Same here."
NotesFirst chapter whatttttttttttt?
I hope people enjoy this story and what it has in store for y'all.
Today I finished writing two chapters, so the next one will be posted in a little bit! <3