I woke up in Toronto and I met up with Paul, the tour manager. He told me that the boys weren't due to land for a couple of hours and I would have time to shower and relax at the hotel. I have never been so relieved to get to a hotel and just chill out. I got a taxi to take me to the hotel.

I wondered how a bunch of guys in their early 20's would feel about me as their new photographer. I wasn't much older than them, but they probably wouldn't like me if they hated their last photographer. I am never one to get nervous, especially when it comes to meeting new people, but these boys held my future in their hands.

I get checked into the hotel and got to my room. I decided that while I showered, I could listen to the music that I downloaded. I would have to listen to it anyways for the next two months, so I might as well take a peek into what I was getting myself into.

I started playing Midnight Memories and turned the shower on. How funny that the first line was exactly what I was going through right now. What a funny little start to my new chapter.

The writer in me cringed, the songs were cliche. The music and the lyrics were very elementary, I am sure they had someone write these, but God, they had agreed to sing these words. The upbeat dance tracks were predictable and the emotional ballads made me want to cry. These were all tricks from the late 90's, and I was slightly horrified to find that they were alive and well in 2014.

This is what I had to endure for two solid months, a bunch of boys who think they are God's gift to this world. There was no artistry from these boys, only over-produced pop music. I can't believe they have a massive fan base.

The hotel room phone rings just as I step out of the shower.

"Hello?"

"Stevie, Paul here. The boys will be here in an hour, their plane just landed. Be in the lobby at 4:30."

"Okay, I just need to -"

"Great, see you then."

"Oka-" click

---

I arrive in the lobby at 4:15, the last thing I wanted was the band to think I am not punctual. I sit on a comfy chair next to the fireplace and I cross my legs. Will this make me look too pretentious? I uncross my legs and place my hands on my knees. Shit, now I look too eager. I am trying to figure out what to do with my hands when Paul walked in with some guy and whom I assumed was a body guard.

He walked toward me and the other two followed suit.

"Ah! Stevie, you're here! I'd like you to meet Liam."

"Hey, I'm Liam." He extended his hand for me to shake.

I instantly got lost in his rich, brown eyes. they reminded me of a nice, hot cup of hot chocolate and my baby blues looked like a melted puddle after a snow storm. I snapped back into reality and managed to mutter, "I'm Stevie, the new tour photographer."

"Well, Stevie, welcome to the madness." He smiled as he walked past me to the elevator.

My god, Stevie, pull yourself together. You work for him and he's way too young for you. He's only - well, I don't know how old he is, but he's younger than you.

I turned back to see another boy walking with another security guard. He had blond hair and the brightest blue eyes. I walked toward him slowly with Paul.

"Niall, please, come and meet the new tour photographer."

At the mention of photographer, he tensed up and his body went rigid.

"Hi." He had a sharp tone to his voice.

"Hey, I'm Stevie. Are you from Ireland?" I asked, his accent was not English.

"Obviously." And with that, he turned away from me and walked to the elevator.

Paul turned to me, "Don't take it personal. He is still upset about what happened with their last photographer, total beast to the boys. I'm sure he'll get over it soon and warm up to you."

"If you don't mind me asking, what happen-"

"Zayn!" Paul had turned from me, "How's my favourite member doing? Good flight?"

"Yeah, Paul."

"Meet the new tour photographer, she's very talented."

"Hi, I'm Stevie." I stretched my hand towards him, waiting for him to shake my hand.

He looked me up and down before scoffing and walking away without another word. What the hell had happened with their last photographer for them to hate anyone in the position this much? I tried to not be upset by the judgement of five boys, but this was getting ridiculous. Each boy was more angry than the last, except for Liam. He was at least decent to me. He was the only one that had welcomed me to the tour.

Another boy came in just then and Paul's attention was once again taken by the boys.

"Louis, are you excited for this tour? Come, meet the new photographer, Stevie."

"Hi, I promise I don't bite, unless you like that!"

Why? Why did I choose those words to say?

He looked at me like I was an escaped mental patient. "Uh, hi."

They hate me. Awesome.

"Paul, I am going to my room, I want to rest. Harry missed his flight, he won't be in until around 10."

"Doesn't that boy know how to be anywhere on time?"

"I'm sure he wanted to avoid any awkward introductions." He retorted, look in my direction.

I glanced at Paul, feeling absolutely defeated. Without another word, I turned on my heel and headed towards the elevator. I pressed the button to bring the elevator back to the lobby. I felt Louis and Paul watching me and I was starting to feel uneasy. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, intent on calling Kevin and asking if I could just go back home to Seattle. I never cared for approval, but I don't want to be on a tour where the band absolutely hates me for no reason. Why should I get the short end of the stick for something that someone else did to them? I was going to call Kevin as soon as I got back to my room, away from those bratty boys.

The elevator had reached my floor and I stepped off, consumed in my phone screen. I bumped into something, well, someone. I started to fall forward when someone's hands were on my shoulders. I looked up, it was Liam.

"Oh God, Li-Liam, right? I am so sorry, I was looking at my phone and not paying attention and I -"

"Stevie, it's okay. Are you okay?"

My face immediately flushed. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks. Sorry."

I wriggled free from his grip and I walked quickly to my room. My phone still clutched tightly in my hand as I opened the door. Should I call Kevin? Did I want to put the boys in the predicament of needing yet another photographer? No. Snap out of this Stevie. This is the chance of a lifetime, and you are a professional. Your resume will look five hundred time more impressive after this. Just stick it out. Be the better person.

I looked at my things in the room. I was glad now that I packed my guitar, I needed to get lost in myself.

---

The next two days were the worst days of my entire life.

Right before we left Toronto, all of my possessions were missing. In a panic, I called the police, I spent hours filling out paperwork and explaining through large sobs that my things were stolen. My guitar was missing. My dad gave me that guitar before I moved to Washington to go to school. The cameras the my grandfather had given me before he passed were gone. Items that I could never replace. I would have to buy new clothes and a several new camera lenses. I was ready to just go back to Seattle.

There was a soft knock on my hotel room. I rushed over to the door, pulling it open so quickly that it blew my hair back. All of my items were on a trolley. My luggage, my guitar, my cameras. There was a note taped to the guitar case.



Those little shits were going to pay for that.

---

Never in my professional life have I taken bad photos of my subjects intentionally, but that night I made sure that every 50 shots of the boys, there was a bad photo of each one of them. I would never turn them into Paul, but I knew they would live forever on my laptop.

New Jersey was a blur, screaming teenagers, the same goofy dances to the same goofy songs, the insane fan signs. And the end of the first date in New Jersey, I just wanted to go back to my suite and play with my guitar. We still had the meet and greet photos until 11:30, then I would be free.

---

As soon as the last crying teenager got her picture taken, I grabbed my cameras and bolted across town to the hotel where my mini bar awaited. I was going to my temporary home for the next two days. I was anxious for one more night of work before a day off, then I could watch crappy cable television and day drink. Maybe I could write a mock article, I may not like the boys music, but I was great at spinning a story.

I picked up my guitar, thinking of playing before I went to bed. I wanted to unwind after such an exhausting gig. I started playing an acoustic version of Viva la Vida. I was never a huge fan of the band, but I love this song. It was so emotional, and I loved Chris for sharing it with the world.

I had only gotten through the first verse when there was a knock at my door. I stopped to ensure that I wasn't hearing things, and the knock came again. I got up from the sofa and opened the door. Niall was on the other side, and we both stared at each other in confusion for a moment.

"Do you need something?" I asked.

"Was that you playing the guitar?" He asked at the same time.

"Oh, um, yeah. Was I bothering you?"

"No, were you playing Viva la Vida, by chance?"

"Yeah, I was, that is one of my favourite songs." I was a little flustered by his question.

"It's my favourite song." He said, smiling.

"Wow. I guess we have something in common, eh Ireland?" I grinned at him.

Notes

The boys are not too keen on Stevie coming on board, and she's not sure that she belongs on this tour. Perhaps something will change for them all.