I dropped Ella off at school after her many protests. She insisted that she wouldn’t have enough time to get ready, but after I shut her down for what felt like the hundredth time, she finally gave up. She’s always been persistent, even as a small child. I can remember her begging endlessly for my mom or dad to buy her that certain toy she wanted. They would eventually cave. I, on the other hand, have always been immune to her begging. But I praise her for her perseverance.

But for some reason on my way home, a sense of guilt rose over me. I don’t know if it’s the fact that our parents are no longer there to spoil her or if it’s purely a lapse in my previous mindset that made me pull in front of a familiar boutique. This particular boutique carried a little piece of my childhood, a little piece of my mom. We would shop here for hours, easily losing track of the time. Since I lost them, I’ve tried to avoid places like this, where memories are packed tightly inside. The memories that places like these bring are full of pain, so I try to forget. I try to forget the places, the memories, everything that tries to make me weak. Maybe it’s wrong to try to forget, but having to deal with this much pain isn’t right either. So, I choose to forget.

I walk through the familiar doors, pushing my sunglasses on top of my head, my eyes slowly trying to adjust to the dimmer lighting. I look around slowly; a thickness begins to take over my throat. My eyes begin to burn. I know this feeling all too well. I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing back the weak emotion that threatens to show itself. I start to twist my mother’s ring around my finger, breathing deeply and asking for strength. The drowning feeling soon subsides and quickly disappeared, making my time at the little boutique much easier and allowing me to do what I had came here to do.

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I looked at the clock on the wall of Ella’s high school office. My guilt has weighed in heavier than I thought would ever be possible. Maybe I’ve became a softy… I jotted down the time on the student sign out sheet as the receptionist behind the desk babbled on about how she hadn’t seen me since I went here and how good it was to see me back around. I stayed quiet, but polite, smiling and talking only when necessary. I put the pen down and the lady rests her hand on mine. I look up at the older woman, her eyes pitiful but kind, “I’m so sorry about your parents. You’re doing such a wonderful job with Ella.”

I simply gave her a tight smile and slipped out the door into the hall. I couldn’t stand another moment of pity. It may be the polite thing to do, to say that kind of stuff, but I HATE it. It’s like people think that I expect them to recognize the deaths of my parents. No. I don’t need it. I just don’t. Everyone needs to let Ella and I move one. No more pity. A fresh start. That’s what we need.

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Ella’s long brown hair has been curled and cutely pinned to her head, thanks to my magic fingers. She had been beside herself when I picked her up early and showed her the new outfit I bought her. And now, after she is dressed with her hair all done, she is begging me to let her wear make-up, “No, Ella. I refuse to let my little sister look like a little tramp.”

I let the hair that had been curling fall lightly to my shoulder as I glare at Ella in the mirror. She huffs loudly and leans against the door frame, “Come on, Victoria. It’s just a little make-up.”

I glare at her again as I curl another piece of my dark brown locks, “I said no, Ella. I already got you a new outfit and got you out of school early.”

She rolls her eyes, “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

And now I’ve had my fill for the day. I put down my curler and stare at my little sister sternly, “No you didn’t, but I did it out of the kindness of my heart. And now you are begging for more than I will give you. After all of this, I haven’t even received a thank you! Stop trying to take advantage of me, Ella. I’m not a push over like mom and dad were.”

The anger that was building inside of me all afternoon has finally exploded and not in the best way. I see Ella’s face fall and her lower lip starts to quiver. She makes a complete 180 degree turn, storming to her room and slamming the door. I sigh loudly, guilt instantly washing over me. I lean against the counter with my face in my hands. My hands fall and I look at myself in the mirror with my half curled hair and my dark brown eyes staring back at me, eyeing me like I’m an evil monster. Maybe I am.

I push myself away from the counter and out the bathroom door towards Ella’s room. It felt like the walk of shame. I lightly knock before slowly pushing the door open. Ella was lying on her bed, face buried into her light blue pillow case. I walk over, lightly easing myself on the bed beside her. She cries into her pillow for me to go away. I ignore it, but it still hurt. I look at the posters on her wall of these five goofy looking boys staring back at me. It’s kind of creepy. I sigh and close my eyes, “Ella, I’m not going to apologize because I’m not sorry. Mom and dad gave into everything when it came down to you, but I’m not them, so don’t try to guilt me. You need to learn that I can’t let you do everything you want… It’s a part of this parenting thing… And it sucks.”

She doesn’t mover and she doesn’t speak. I squeeze my eyes shut and heave myself off her bed. I walk towards the door but turn back towards her, “Ella, I want you to learn that you’re beautiful without make-up. I’m not just saying that either. You are. Just like mom.”

I leave her to her thoughts and go back to finishing my hair in the bathroom. Before I realize what is happening, a set of arms engulf me from the side. Ella’s face is buried into my side and I barely make out a muffled “thank you”.

I smile down at her, wrapping her into my arms and pulling her tightly to me. It may not have been the best thank you, but nonetheless, it was a thank you. When we got into the car that picked us up later that night, we were both beautiful… Wearing no make-up.

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Ella and I are quiet as we follow the bald, bulky man to the backstage area. Ella is visibly nervous- hands shaking and a panic stricken look. I nudge her lightly with my elbow. She glances up at me and I smile at her, trying to get her to calm down. She turns to look straight ahead again, clearly still nervous. Well, I tried.

We turn a corner and the hall expands into a large room with wires here and there, light controls, and people running around everywhere doing their jobs. The bulky man turns to face us, all features serious, “The guys are all in wardrobe change. They should be with you shortly,” the man pauses, looking between Ella and I, “Is there anything I can get you?”

Ella shook her head and I smiled lightly at the all-too-serious man, “No, but thank you.”

He nodded his head on stiff time before leaving us. It felt extremely awkward being in the middle of a busy room with everyone working around us while we just quietly stood there. I began to awkwardly rock back and forth on the heels of my black Vans. I glanced at Ella in her new outfit- dark washed shorts, gray Vans with pink leopard spots, and a loose white tank-top with an oversized black, sequenced heart.

Okay, so I went a little over budget, but this is a good occasion. I mean, how many girls can say they got free backstage passes and concert tickets to see their favorite boy band? Certainly not me, considering ‘N Sync broke up when I was about eight, way before I even had the chance to fall in love with Justin Timberlake. Ohhh, Justin…

My outfit, on the other hand, was much more simple- black Vans, black skinny jeans and a loose, gray shirt with “MAKE LOVE” printed on the front. I didn’t care how I looked… that much.

“Well, hello there,” a deep Irish voice whispered in my ear.

I let out an awkward scream as I jumped at least twenty feet in the air. I turned around, hand over my racing heart and wide eyes. Niall is bent over, heaving with laughter. I narrow my eyes, not too pleased. He’s taking this brother thing to heart, and by that I mean being annoying. Ella is doubled over too, both of them almost to the point of tears, “Glad I could be your amusement, you little twats.”

Niall began to laugh harder when the word ‘twats’ slipped from my lips. I sighed loudly, crossing my arms and rolling my eyes. I look at Ella again, expecting to see her rolling around on the floor in a fit of laughter, but instead her eyes are wide and her mouth agape. I turn in the direction of her stares to see a somewhat curly haired boy (or should I say man?) approaching us.

Ahhh, Harry Styles. I’ll admit, he’s nice to look at… REALLY nice. Harry grins as he approaches, “What’s so funny over here?”

Niall’s face is red from laughter but manages to speak, “Oh Harry. Have you heard an American girl call someone a twat before?”

He can barely finish his sentence without laughing. Is it really that funny, Niall? I can’t help but shoot imaginary daggers at his cute little Irish face. Harry chuckles, grasping my attention again, “Can’t say I have.”

My face is turning red with embarrassment, but Niall drops that subject there. Maybe he felt the pain I was mentally inflicting on him or maybe it was my beet red face that tipped him off. Either way, I was grateful he dropped the subject before my face became anymore red, if that were even possible.

Harry began to glance between Ella and me, smiling a friendly smile, “Niall, who are these two beautiful ladies?”

Niall slinks his arm around mine and Ella’s shoulders, “There are the girls from yesterday- Victoria and her little sister Ella.”

Harry smiles at me and extends his hand out to mine, “Nice to meet you,” he pulls me forward as he leans forward and kisses me on the cheek.

A flash of heat goes across my cheek and spreads all over my face, making its way across my entire body, even to the tips of my toes. Harry releases my hand and takes Ella’s, repeating his previous actions. She’s still frozen in place, face beet red… Maybe even more red than what mine was. He pulls his hand back, shoving both his hands in his pocket, “How is your leg,” Harry nods his head in the direction of her exposed bandage.

Ella unfreezes as she realizes he is speaking to her, “Just fine,” she squeaked.

He grinned, his sweet dimple saying hello to the world and I know for damn sure the world is saying hello back, “Good,” he turns to Niall, “It’s our turn for hair.”

Niall nods, dropping his arms. Harry looks back at the two of us, and then looks me in the eyes, “See you two later?”

Ella and I both nod. It’s totally obvious this green eyed male has left us both at a loss for words. We watch as they walk away and I whisper to Ella, “It’s like his eyes look straight into your soul.”

Ella dramatically gulped as she nods her head, clearly still affected.

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Ella and I met Louis. He’s one hell of a character. He’s so outgoing and charming. His personality rubs off on you. It seems like he’s one of those people who can be around you when you’re in a horrible mood and his spirit will just automatically lift yours up. Ella has told me about his sassy side- I’ve yet to see it, but hopefully I get a glimpse of the ‘Sass Master’... Oh my God. What has Ella done to me???

Zayn also stopped by and gave his greetings but was hurried off to sound-check. He seems like a really sweet guy, a little quiet but VERY handsome, just like the other four. We’ve yet to see Liam, which I reluctantly admit is disappointing.

The bulky, bald man is approaching us, “Concert starts in an hour. You want me to escort you to your seats?”

We agree and we follow behind him down another hallway once again. Further down the hall we get, the louder approaching voices become. Liam and Louis come around the corner, quieting when they see us. Liam and I make eye contact, but neither of us says anything. “

Are you two beauties ready to see a great show,” Louis winks.

Ella seems to not be quite as shy around Louis, which I think goes back to my impression of him. He just seems easy to talk to, “YES! I’m super excited.”

I’m first to break the eye contact Liam and I were sharing. I turn to Louis and smile, “Yes, thank you. Also, I want to thank you, just like I have the others. This means so much to her,” I nodded toward Ella.

I don’t think any of those five boys really grasp how thankful I really am. This is probably the happiest I have seen her since before our parents died and that is something I am forever grateful for.

“No problem,” Louis smiles, “We better get going. See you two out there.”

We part ways and quietly follow once again.

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The seats are filling up around us and Ella is still going on about having front row seats. My ears are listening but my mind is floating off into the recap of earlier events. Why didn’t he say anything? Not even a ‘hello’. Do I smell? I mindlessly grab a lock of my curled hair and bring it to my nose- coconut vanilla shampoo and a hint of hairspray.

I drop the hair and run my tongue over my teeth. Oh God, what if I had food in my teeth? I start fidgeting in my chair and a sudden sharp pain seizes my arm, “What the hell, Ella?!”

She pulls her fingers away from my arm and shrugs, “You weren’t listening, so I pinched you.

I glare at her, “You’re so lucky there’s people around.”

Her lips turn into a mischievous grin. Brat.

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The concert is almost over and I can honestly say it has been one hell of a concert. Niall practically serenaded Ella. Louis threw a hip thrust in our vicinity, which the motherly instinct in me did not approve of. I will not explain what it did to the hormonal teenage part of me. Harry blew us a kiss and Zayn winked. Liam ignored. All but the last one made every teenage girl in the Sprint Center scream louder, if that were even possible.

The atmosphere in the center has begun to shift, the lights have begun to dim, the crowd is surprisingly quieting, the guys on stage are becoming more somber, and the music is slowing. They are all sitting so they facee the crowd.

The music starts to play and Zayn brings the microphone just inches from mouth. The words that begin to flow out of his mouth sound like a symphony of angels:

“Your hand fits in mine,
Like it's made just for me,
But bear this in mind,
It was meant to be,
And I'm joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks,
And it all makes sense to me”


Zayn pulls his microphone away as Liam brings his to his mouth. For the first time since the concert began, he looks me dead in the eye while he sings:

“I know you've never loved,
The crinkles by your eyes,
When you smile,
You've never loved Your stomach or your thighs,
The dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine,
But I'll love them endlessly”


Butterflies seized my entire stomach and my legs almost give out from under me. I never let Ella play this song when I’m around for one reason, and it’s a pretty damn good one: It makes me cry like a baby. And tonight is no exception.

As all of their unreal, godlike voices combine into a perfect melody for the chorus, I have to wipe an escaping tear. I look back up on the stage from where the beautiful music is generating, and Liam is still looking at me, but for the first time all night, a sweet and genuine smile radiating off of him. And it’s directed towards me.