I closed my eyes for a moment, excitement tickling my spine as images of them flashed in my mind. Time seemed to fly by at light speed, and I was thrown into a black Taxi without a second to breathe. Was this really happening? The door shut and I attached my seatbelt before glaring out the window with a sigh. It was all I could do but restrain a high-pitched squeal. I breathed slowly, thinking over my appearance for the third time today. I wore some faded jeans and tan lace up boots that made a satisfying noise against the concrete. Along with an open, beige, knitted cardigan and a thin, white scarf, I was equipped for the harsh weather that dominated London today. My long, silky brown hair fell by my shoulders, and I smoothed them once more.
Outside, there were hints of snow on the ground and a cloudy, dark sky. The town was beautiful, a mass of old buildings with decorated facades, small, shabby stands, Big Ben rising from amongst the landscape, tall and majestic. The streets and roads were busy with people trying to find shelter. It felt eerie watching the busy scene completely muted, in the warmth and silence of the car.
My mother sat at the front, her back straight and rigid. I knew she didn't want to be here. We'd only arrived in London two days ago, and she'd rather rest and ditch the jet lag than pay eighty dollars to take me to a signing. But no matter how guilty I felt, I just could not ignore this event. One Direction meant so much to me, and I could not believe how many times I'd dreamed of meeting them in person. And that day was now.
The taxi took a sharp right and stopped before our destination. I was not surprised to see a massive crowd of people. The place, a modern mall of glass, was simply packed. Another thing my mother detested. I bit my lip. How long until she cracked and dragged me back to the hotel?
We stepped out of the cab and zig zaged our way into the mall. Music echoed from different shops, and the light filtering through was almost blinding. It took us several seconds before we found the escalator that led to the lower grounds. How I wished I was alone...
The room we reached was quite large, with concrete walls, but so stuffed with a screaming mass of nervous fans that there was barely any space to stand. I heard my mother gasp in pain and shock at the setting.
'Honey, look...' she started, shaking her head in disapproval.
I could feel the tears swell up in my eyes in disappointment. Was it really going to end now?
'I think I'm just going to wait upstairs... I'll have a coffee or something. You have your phone?'
I nodded and smiled with newfound delight.
She left quickly, her ears ringing, and I turned my attention to the front of the room, moving around to find myself a decent spot. There was a raised platform with a long, plastic table and five empty chairs. Security was all over the place, tall figures in black suits and earpieces.
'Have you met them before?'
I turned to the source of the voice and found a young British girl. She was a bit...different. She had long, wavy red hair, but obviously dyed, as she had no freckles. Her skin was smooth, her lips covered in red lipstick that contrasted nicely with her pale skin, and her brown eyes wide, staring at me questioningly. She wore a sleeveless denim dress, with dark stockings and a pair of black Converse. Her right hand was covered in rings.
'No, have you?' I replied, smiling.
I guess the friendly atmosphere just made me feel good. Everyone was meeting new people effortlessly, bonding with the fact that they admired One Direction. It brought people together. I guess I was also grateful, hoping to make some friends, and to be no longer an intruder and lost in this foreign town.
