In Other Words (Niall Fanfic)

Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Six 

Roxy’s POV

Something brushed against my hand and I snapped it back through the navy blue curtain, whacking my wrist on the low-ceiling. “Fuck.” I muttered.

“Sorry, mate.” Someone whispered. Zayn maybe? I groaned in reply. Despite the fact that we were crammed into a tiny sleeping cubby, I was cold. This was probably due to the fact that half of my body was hanging outside of the curtain, since Niall fell asleep before I did and was hogging the good spot against the wall.

“Shove over.” I mumbled, grinding my hips backward in effort to secure more room on the almost-comfortable mattress.

“Come ‘ere.” He hummed into my hair, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me in. He went right back to snoring softly. The clock in cluster of electronics tucked onto the shelf at our feet said 7:30, which means I’d actually only gotten about an hour and a half of sleep. My lids were incredibly heavy, and I knew it was going to take some serious effort on my part to make sure I didn’t look like a worn-out sorority girl when we finally stepped off of this bus. Hopefully Paul could work some magic and we could duck into the hotel without having to endure the cameras or the crowds.

At least, I hoped we were going to a hotel. I could really use a decent shower.

—

(nine hours earlier)

As I had waited for the boys to get changed out of their stage-clothes, I unloaded the grocery bags that had been delivered to the bus. It was all junk food, except for the one Organic Carrot Beet Ginger Protein Smoothie, which I tucked into the door of the small fridge for Harry.

There was a serious lack of beer.

I fiddled with the stereo equipment, grateful that the bus came with satellite radio. I turned on the 90’s station, and let the sweet sounds of The Gin Blossoms filter through the speakers as I pulled my hair up off of my shoulders and into a ponytail, realizing I had forgotten to turn the laminated pass hanging from the red and white lanyard around my neck back into the stage manager. I hurried down the metal stairs and rapped loudly on the door at the side of the arena, flashing my pass at the large man who opened it.

I passed the large poster that read “Access Restricted-Talent Does Not Require Identification” with their five photos pasted beneath. The backstage area will still pretty chaotic, the road crew packing up equipment and stylists tucking supplies back into large plastic bins. I scanned the faces, looking for the stage manager. Angela was her name. I think.

Eventually, I gave up, and headed for the closed white door labeled “Private” and turned the handle. “Whoa!” Louis said, fumbling for his pants, quickly pulling them up over his bare feet and fastening them.  The other four just stood there in their white boxer shorts and crew-length socks. Harry laughed at Louis’ shyness. The room was decent sized, with plain white cinder block walls. There were two large couches which were currently holding only the boys’ random pieces of clothing, and tables lined against the wall, only the least favorable food and drink items remaining on the trays there.

 “Hey babe.” Niall said.

“Is this what you guys do in here?” I laughed. “Hang out in your undies?”

“Yeah, we’re airing out.” Liam said.

“Lovely.” I muttered.

“What’s up?” Niall said.

I held up the plastic card. “Forgot to give this to Angela. Have you seen her?”

“It’s Andrea.” Niall smirked, hauling a white t shirt over his head. “I’ll come help you track her down.”