One Direction: After Hours

Chapter 7

Picture of Tia and Mariel to the side:~

[Tia’s POV] 

~&~ 

The car slammed to a violent halt as El’s dad, Mr. Ford, practically jumped onto the brakes in his haste to stop within the parking lines of the drop off zone. My seatbelt dug its coarse edge into the thin fabric covering my shoulder, while El wheezed in protest at the sudden proximity between her face and the back of the driver’s seat.

I ignored the small incident as Mr. Ford cursed the car’s performance profoundly in the front seat. I instead turned my attention to stare out my window to look at the colossal building where X-Factor held its notorious bootcamp in the midst of London.

Over the next four days it would be our sanctuary were El and myself would learn from professional vocal coaches from all over the UK. It was nerve-racking to say at the least; I had to sing every note perfectly if I was to get through to the next round.

The building loomed over us like a foreboding shadow, its tendrils seemingly just out of reach behind the safety of the car door. It didn’t make me feel any less excited, but what a way to dampen a mood.

The ominous studio only reminded me further of me of how challenging it would be to get through to the next round. I will have to practise tirelessly to get through to bootcamp and onto the judges houses.

I chewed at my non-existent nails nervously, a habit I had picked up over the years; one which El severely disproved off. Mr. Ford attempted to spin around in his seat, his seatbelt immobile as it locked on him, keeping him in a sort of vice.

He gave up his attempt at freedom with a helpful chuckle from El, and so he rearranged his rear-view mirror so he could look at us without having to unclip his seatbelt and turn around. I giggled into my hand, biting my lip to keep back the laughter.

“Have fun girls! I’ll be back later to pick you up.” Mr. Ford grinned at us encouragingly from the front seat of the car as he scratched at his stubble. I nodded, a cheerful grin stretching across my face despite my stomach full of nerves.

“We will Mr. Ford!” I sung in a bubbly voice, before opening the car door with a nudge and sliding out into the cold morning air. I inhaled, taking in with me a deep, calming breath, the frost biting lightly at my cheeks.

“Bye dad. Don’t forget the pickup times.” El muttered her goodbye with a stern look at her dad in the rear-view mirror, before quickly following after me and slamming the door lightly after her. Oh, I thought to myself with a mental slap. It’s a good thing El was entering this with me; I had forgotten to tell Mr. Ford the pickup times.

We stood there together, our arms barely touching, as we watched Mr. Ford slowly drive his newly acquired car away in the opposite direction, leaving both myself and El all alone in the cool autumn air.

El shivered next to me as a breeze gently tugged at her hair, before she yanked her hood impossibly closer to her heart-shaped face in a feeble attempt to stay warm. Unlike me, El was swathed in layers upon layers of clothing, much to her father’s protests this morning. He was certain that it was only slightly cold, and that a jacket simply wasn’t necessary.

A small chuckle left my lips as I grinned at her. I found it highly amusing that while El was born in the United Kingdom, she still wasn’t used to the bitter chill and miserable weather of her birthplace. I would have at least thought that she should have come with resilience to cold or something.

However, what I really found hilarious was that I, on the other hand, adapted to this weather like I was the one made in England. The irony of it all was enough to make me laugh every time she left her house.