Our Boys, Their Girls
Chapter 1
I sigh dreamily as the dark of night disappears to be replaced by the first golden-red rays of sunrise. It's moments like this that make me all the more grateful for the life I'm living as One Direction's co-assistant stylist. Many girls, I know, would love to be in my place. I get to see and touch every part of those men on a regular basis, without even thinking about who they are. I mean, I was kind of bred into it.
My mom, Sariah Raebella, was childhood friends with Lou Teasdale, and since I'm the only girl out of three kids, Lou practically dumped her life's work onto my shoulders. And when Mr. Cowell (I don't care if I've met him five times, I'm still too scared to call him Simon) felt that the band's image was losing it's modern edge— seriously, sagging is plain gross— Lou instantly volunteered me to help add new ideas. After seeing some of my work and judging how I'd get along with the guys, he agreed to have me on board and also requested more young girls to freshen the band's image.
Cue Avery, Ashtyn, Brielle, Delilah and Nicole.
It's been about two months since we've all joined the crew and we've yet to show our work to the world on a massive scale. The guys have had a few photo shoots where we prepped them, and both Simon and Liam have mentioned us in interviews. But I want more. Like a world-famous deal or something. I chuckle softly into the cup of coffee I hold.
"What's so funny?" Brielle's looking at me like I'm crazy as she and Delilah enter the sunroom.
"Nothing." I shake my head convincingly and take a sip of coffee, only to promptly spit it out.
Blech. How did I forget the cream and sugar? Delilah giggles and Brielle rolls her eyes, fighting a smile. I wipe my mouth and look around for a towel to clean up the puddle I left.
I hear Avery's telltale laugh a few seconds before she enters the room, decked out in her workout gear, with Liam and Zayn, both of which are wiping themselves with towels after a morning jog. Zayn raises his eyebrows quizzically at me. I hold my hand out for his towel, "Don't ask." He grins and hands it over. As I wipe and rewipe the area, Liam explains the day's schedule. Harry and Louis are at the gym with Paul and Niall's picking up breakfast, so we have a while to hang out. But after breakfast, the guys have an interview followed by a quick fan meet and a radio performance. Then, we'll fly out to meet Simon in New York to discuss how he thinks the TMH tour is going.
Pretty basic when compared to what we've done in the past.
Niall returns while I'm changing and I pull on my white cross tank top quickly as I walk to the kitchen. Avery's fighting over a hashbrown with Zayn, and I pluck it out of their hands easily as I pass behind them. I plop into a seat on Avery's other side, and she looks at me, shocked. I widen my eyes, mocking her as I chew. I make sure to take small, slow bites to tease her. For effect, I gasp, and choke on the stolen potato bits. Avery claps me on the back a few times and Delilah hands me a glass of water. I regain my breath and clear my throat, then apologetically pass the hashbrown to Avery, "I'm sorry."
She looks at me, faking superiority, and holds the hashbrown in the air seconds before Harry and Louis return. Harry's eyes light up, "Thanks." He bends down and fits his mouth around the hashbrown and about three of Avery's fingers. She squeals and tugs, only to have Harry bite down and growl like a dog. She gives him a killer begging puppy face, and he relents, but not before patting her on the head to emphasize the dog effect. Louis sits on my other side and Harry sits next to him.
"Did the other girls leave already?"
Brielle nods as she sips from her cup of orange juice, "Nicole said she found this great place for a few pictures yesterday. Apparently, it had a 'magnificent view and exquisite architecture!'" She mimics Nicole's sophisticated tone perfectly, and we all laugh. Liam comes up behind Niall and gives him a bear hug from behind, "Thanks, Nialler." He picks up a pancake, pours a thin line of syrup down its' middle, and rolls it into a burrito shape before eating it. Niall tilts his head, and points at my wrist, where my bracelets have slid down, revealing the only tattoo I have.
"Mi única." He reads aloud. "Who?"
I realize that the others, except for Brielle, are confused, but I don't feel like answering the question right now.
"A close friend of mine. I had to leave him behind when I signed with you guys."
"Him? Were you close?"
This conversation is bringing back some really sad memories. I can feel them pressuring me to cry, but I merely nod and sigh, "So, when are we leaving?"
Nicole was right; this place does have an amazing view. The radio station's DJ was sick, so we have an hour to kill before we have to head to the airport. We're on top of a cheap, sleazy motel, but the lake below and mountains dotting the horizon almost make you forget that.
"How did you find it?" Brielle sounds annoyed, not for the first time today either. I wonder what's up.
"Oh," Nicole doesn't seem to notice Brielle's sharp tongue, "the manager thought he was doing me a favor by putting me on the top floor, but it started smelling funny in there, so I came up here."
In case you're wondering why Nicole was in a motel instead of with us, she has really big trust issues when it comes to sleeping around guys and girls as well.
It's really sad when you think about it.
But, she doesn't dwell in the past and now she pours herself into her work. Snapping me out of my thoughts, she shoves me towards Liam, "Mickie! They have to look presentable!"
I can see what she means. The other girls look at us strangely, but Nicole and I know that there's plenty of work to be done on the guys. Efficiently, we put them in a line and walk up and down it, tweaking some things and completely changing others.
"Fix your quiff, Zayn."
"Niall, jacket zipped."
"Unbutton that shirt, Harry."
"Quiff, Zayn."
"Tame your hair, Louis."
"I want to see that cross, Harry."
"Zayn, a quiff does NOT go sideways!"
Sometimes I swear they LIKE making us touch them. Nicole heads over to a grinning Zayn, leaving me to deal with the others. After I adjust Liam's collar and restyle his hair, everything looks fine.
Except.... Ugh.
Harry has a freaking cameltoe.
I'm not touching that, not this time.
"Styles," I wave at his jeans, "Fix it." He smiles and winks, "What if I can't?"
"Then you won't be in the picture."
"No!" Louis clutches Harry's head to his chest, "Just fix it, Haz. For me!"
Harry rolls his eyes and turns to adjust his jeans.
Once they're ready, Nicole gets a couple of shots. Then, we're interrupted by a gruff voice.
"What're you doing on the roof? I'm calling the cops!"
Again, the view ALMOST makes you forget that you're on the roof of a motel managed by some old grump.
Time to go!
My mom, Sariah Raebella, was childhood friends with Lou Teasdale, and since I'm the only girl out of three kids, Lou practically dumped her life's work onto my shoulders. And when Mr. Cowell (I don't care if I've met him five times, I'm still too scared to call him Simon) felt that the band's image was losing it's modern edge— seriously, sagging is plain gross— Lou instantly volunteered me to help add new ideas. After seeing some of my work and judging how I'd get along with the guys, he agreed to have me on board and also requested more young girls to freshen the band's image.
Cue Avery, Ashtyn, Brielle, Delilah and Nicole.
It's been about two months since we've all joined the crew and we've yet to show our work to the world on a massive scale. The guys have had a few photo shoots where we prepped them, and both Simon and Liam have mentioned us in interviews. But I want more. Like a world-famous deal or something. I chuckle softly into the cup of coffee I hold.
"What's so funny?" Brielle's looking at me like I'm crazy as she and Delilah enter the sunroom.
"Nothing." I shake my head convincingly and take a sip of coffee, only to promptly spit it out.
Blech. How did I forget the cream and sugar? Delilah giggles and Brielle rolls her eyes, fighting a smile. I wipe my mouth and look around for a towel to clean up the puddle I left.
I hear Avery's telltale laugh a few seconds before she enters the room, decked out in her workout gear, with Liam and Zayn, both of which are wiping themselves with towels after a morning jog. Zayn raises his eyebrows quizzically at me. I hold my hand out for his towel, "Don't ask." He grins and hands it over. As I wipe and rewipe the area, Liam explains the day's schedule. Harry and Louis are at the gym with Paul and Niall's picking up breakfast, so we have a while to hang out. But after breakfast, the guys have an interview followed by a quick fan meet and a radio performance. Then, we'll fly out to meet Simon in New York to discuss how he thinks the TMH tour is going.
Pretty basic when compared to what we've done in the past.
Niall returns while I'm changing and I pull on my white cross tank top quickly as I walk to the kitchen. Avery's fighting over a hashbrown with Zayn, and I pluck it out of their hands easily as I pass behind them. I plop into a seat on Avery's other side, and she looks at me, shocked. I widen my eyes, mocking her as I chew. I make sure to take small, slow bites to tease her. For effect, I gasp, and choke on the stolen potato bits. Avery claps me on the back a few times and Delilah hands me a glass of water. I regain my breath and clear my throat, then apologetically pass the hashbrown to Avery, "I'm sorry."
She looks at me, faking superiority, and holds the hashbrown in the air seconds before Harry and Louis return. Harry's eyes light up, "Thanks." He bends down and fits his mouth around the hashbrown and about three of Avery's fingers. She squeals and tugs, only to have Harry bite down and growl like a dog. She gives him a killer begging puppy face, and he relents, but not before patting her on the head to emphasize the dog effect. Louis sits on my other side and Harry sits next to him.
"Did the other girls leave already?"
Brielle nods as she sips from her cup of orange juice, "Nicole said she found this great place for a few pictures yesterday. Apparently, it had a 'magnificent view and exquisite architecture!'" She mimics Nicole's sophisticated tone perfectly, and we all laugh. Liam comes up behind Niall and gives him a bear hug from behind, "Thanks, Nialler." He picks up a pancake, pours a thin line of syrup down its' middle, and rolls it into a burrito shape before eating it. Niall tilts his head, and points at my wrist, where my bracelets have slid down, revealing the only tattoo I have.
"Mi única." He reads aloud. "Who?"
I realize that the others, except for Brielle, are confused, but I don't feel like answering the question right now.
"A close friend of mine. I had to leave him behind when I signed with you guys."
"Him? Were you close?"
This conversation is bringing back some really sad memories. I can feel them pressuring me to cry, but I merely nod and sigh, "So, when are we leaving?"
Nicole was right; this place does have an amazing view. The radio station's DJ was sick, so we have an hour to kill before we have to head to the airport. We're on top of a cheap, sleazy motel, but the lake below and mountains dotting the horizon almost make you forget that.
"How did you find it?" Brielle sounds annoyed, not for the first time today either. I wonder what's up.
"Oh," Nicole doesn't seem to notice Brielle's sharp tongue, "the manager thought he was doing me a favor by putting me on the top floor, but it started smelling funny in there, so I came up here."
In case you're wondering why Nicole was in a motel instead of with us, she has really big trust issues when it comes to sleeping around guys and girls as well.
It's really sad when you think about it.
But, she doesn't dwell in the past and now she pours herself into her work. Snapping me out of my thoughts, she shoves me towards Liam, "Mickie! They have to look presentable!"
I can see what she means. The other girls look at us strangely, but Nicole and I know that there's plenty of work to be done on the guys. Efficiently, we put them in a line and walk up and down it, tweaking some things and completely changing others.
"Fix your quiff, Zayn."
"Niall, jacket zipped."
"Unbutton that shirt, Harry."
"Quiff, Zayn."
"Tame your hair, Louis."
"I want to see that cross, Harry."
"Zayn, a quiff does NOT go sideways!"
Sometimes I swear they LIKE making us touch them. Nicole heads over to a grinning Zayn, leaving me to deal with the others. After I adjust Liam's collar and restyle his hair, everything looks fine.
Except.... Ugh.
Harry has a freaking cameltoe.
I'm not touching that, not this time.
"Styles," I wave at his jeans, "Fix it." He smiles and winks, "What if I can't?"
"Then you won't be in the picture."
"No!" Louis clutches Harry's head to his chest, "Just fix it, Haz. For me!"
Harry rolls his eyes and turns to adjust his jeans.
Once they're ready, Nicole gets a couple of shots. Then, we're interrupted by a gruff voice.
"What're you doing on the roof? I'm calling the cops!"
Again, the view ALMOST makes you forget that you're on the roof of a motel managed by some old grump.
Time to go!
7/30/13