One Direction's Assistant

Chapter 5 - The Song

We’ve just plonked ourselves down on a chocolate brown couch in BB’s café in town with a coffee and a cookie each when Olivia randomly blurts, “That blonde bimbo seemed like such a cow.” 

I look at her surprised. It took me a few moments to figure out whom she meant. Yes, Olivia was the gossiping type, but she rarely spoke badly about people we knew personally. Celebrities in magazines were usually her prey.

“Blonde bimbo?” I ask innocently, breaking off a piece of cookie.

“The one that came for Louis. She just looked so fake and annoying,” she replies, with emphasis on the ‘fake and annoying’ part.

I must say I can’t disagree with her. When I first met Gwen backstage on the X Factor I thought she was lovely. She was so nice to me and we would talk all the time when the boys weren’t around. Recently she’s been really distant with me, barley even looking in my direction.

“Suppose…” I answer Olivia, remembering how this morning Gwen had greeted the household as ‘guys’, when I am clearly not a guy. “She’s usually really nice, though!” I argue.

“Ha!” Olivia laughs back, “No, Cass, you’re just too nice to admit she’s horrible,” she says it so casually, it’s as if she’s been thinking this for a while. She has met Gwen before, I think it was when I first moved in the boys, which is where Gwen had started acting…icy.

Moving from our apartment and into the One Direction house was hard work. I had way too much stuff hidden about my old room, so packing it all up into boxes and cases and bin bags took a while.

Then there were two trips in Louis’ car to take all of it to our new house. Gwen was sat on the garden wall with her arms folded like a small child after a tantrum.

“Oh, hey, Gwen!” I had said to her once Louis had helped me out of the car.

“Nmm” she had replied, simply glancing in my direction and then gazing back at the pavement. Seeing as it was quite early in the morning that day, I had dismissed it, thinking Gwen was probably just tired.

“You okay?” Olivia asks now, snapping me back into the present.

“What? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine!” I hadn’t realized that I had been sat motionless, staring at a small puddle of chocolate milkshake on the floor.

After finishing our coffees we zoom around the shops for a final time. I buy two new dresses, three tops and a pair of boots, but Oliva buys only one top. However, once taking a look at Primark, she emerges with a large bag full of new clothes.

On the bus home we take up two seats each. Luckily the bus was quite empty, so we didn’t have any old women shaking their heads at us.

Olivia’s stop was before mine, as she had to get another bus. I stayed on for a while, simply daydreaming as I watch the blurry London scenery pass by slowly. Once or twice I’m accidentally caught staring at a taxi driver without meaning to, and am thrown rude hand gestures.

Finally my stop arrives and I haul my bags to the front door of the house. I let myself in and see the entire ground floor of the house empty. Zayn and Liam must still be shopping and Louis will still be with Gwen. Knowing the two laziest members are still somewhere in the house, I guess they’re in the attic (aka mini studio) doing what they usually do up there: nothing.

In my bedroom I dump all of my new clothes onto the bed and create a small fashion show along the carpet. I had done this in the shops, too, but once Olivia and I had begun screaming with laughter we were asked to leave quite promptly.

Before all of that, though, when we were acting as the sensible young ladies we are, whenever I would ask Olivia’s opinions on my outfits she would reply with a quick, “Yeah,” without even looking properly, so I had to find out for myself.

The first dress I squeeze into is cobalt blue with short sleeves. I take a look at myself in the mirror and decide it’s not for me – I like being able to move when I walk.

After a while of trying to get changed I step into the second dress, which looks much nicer. It’s short, coming to a bit above my knee, and flowing. The body is cream coloured and the straps and neckline are made of black lace, the same as the trim at the bottom.

I like it, but still I’m unsure whether or not I should keep it. Perhaps I should call Sofia for her opinion…I pick up my phone and scroll through the contacts, preparing to decide.

Hearing music drifting into my bedroom from upstairs reminds me that Harry and Niall are in the house too – I can go pester them for their opinion.

Climbing the stairs barefoot to the attic, I can hear Niall’s guitar much clearer, but over it I can hear Harry’s voice singing the words to a brand new song. Listening to the lyrics half way up the steps, I can’t bring myself to interrupt. I sink onto the carpet and just listen as he sings more.

It’s clearly a love song. You can just tell from the tune, and the delicate way in which Harry sings and Niall echoes. The words are slightly muffled to me, but nonetheless I could listen to it forever.

But it stops. In the middle of a verse it stops completely. I snap back into the real world just in time to hear Niall ponder, “What’s that noise?”

I look at my hand and see my phone still clutched there, buzzing away.

What the hell do I do now?

My quick thinking skills kick in and I immediately stomp three times on the stairs, then casually answer my phone as I climb the stairs properly.

“Oh, hey, Sofia,” I say into the phone, only hoping it’s actually her, “Just one second,” once I reach the top of the stairs I turn and see the two boys sat in the middle of the floor with fake smiles glued to their faces. A pile of sheet music has been hastily hidden underneath a nearby beanbag and Niall’s guitar is poking out from behind it.

“Hi guys, just wanted to ask your opinions of my new dress?” I smile as if it were my plan all along – which it was, really, it just went a bit wrong. When neither boy responds, I spin on the spot, “Er, guys?”

“Umm…yeah, you look great! Really,” says Niall honestly. He turns to Harry who appears to have frozen. Completely.

“I…I…erm…yeah, you look…OK…” he answers eventually.

My face, which was previously bright crimson in colour, quickly fades to a pale, pale white.

“Oh, right. Thanks guys!” I say cheerily as I walk back downstairs. I only remember the phone once I’m back in my bedroom and quickly press it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“CASSIE! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?! I. NEED. TO. TELL. YOU. ABOUT. AIDEN!” screams Sofia.

“Oh…it’s only you, go ahead,” I say as I flop onto my bed, rubbing my forehead with my fingers with the hope that the last few minutes of my life will be erased that way.

“We went to this fabulous restaurant in his car –that he calls Sylvia- and we ate really nice food and…” I let her babble on about her first date with Aiden, saying ‘hmm’ and ‘ahh’ and ‘oh’ in the correct places.

But I wasn’t really listening. The words to Harry’s song are stuck in my head and it’s all I can think about. Well, that and the fact that I look ‘OK’. Yeah, that really boosted my confidence. No wonder he hasn’t tried to kiss me again since Marbella. Maybe he only goes for girls who he thinks look ‘stunning’ or ‘gorgeous’ or ‘fit’, so an average ‘OK’ isn’t good enough for him.

“…So then I told him about Matilda…” Sofia is saying now, but I let my phone slip through my fingers and onto the floor.

Rolling over and grabbing a blanket I quickly fall asleep.