Chapter Three

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Chapter Three

An hour after wandering around, I was standing awkwardly in the hall, wearing basketball shorts and a tank top, waiting for someone to tell me where to go. There were cameras everywhere, lights getting situated, and just overall craziness. 

"Allison?" A camera girl asked, looking me up and down. She seemed to be in her early thirties, her hair curled and pinned up and her outfit perfectly adjusted.

"Call me Al," I said.

"Are you sure you don't want to change into something more… Uh, flattering?" She questioned, obviously extremely confused by my looks. Most of the girls she had seen had been perfect down to their toes.

"Nope, I'm good." I smiled briefly.

"You don't want any make-up?" She tried again, hedging me into looking 'appropriate' for the show.

"No," I replied, furrowing my eyebrows at her.

"Alright, then go ahead and have a seat in that chair over there." She seemed unsure, probably wondering if she should let me go on looking like I did. Uttering a thanks, I walked over to the director's chair and got comfortable.

"We're just gonna ask you some simply questions. Answer however you want." The interviewer that was behind the camera stated. I nodded in acknowledgement. "Camera is rolling… What made you sign up, Al?"

"My friend Nick did it for me as a prank," I shrugged. "I really didn't think I'd be chosen."

"Were really excited to find out you were going to meet One Direction?"

"No. I mean, props to them for getting so big… But to be honest, they're just another fad." I answered, deciding to be completely honest with the interviewers. The more I admitted to disliking them, the bigger chance I had to go home sooner rather than later.

"Then why are you here?" The interviewer managed to get out, while biting her lip. She seemed to be on the brink of snorting ouit in laughter.

"Like I said, my friend Nick thought it would be funny to fill out the form, so here I am." I repeated. "If I had a choice, I'd be at home instead of here."

"Are you psyched about meeting the boys?" The interviewer tried a different approach, still struggling to keep her expression professional-like.

"They're normal boys, so there really isn't any reason to be. Unless one of them has a weird mutation that they keep under wraps. Like, if one of them had an extra toe and never told anyone." A laugh escaped my lips as I thought of a popstar hiding an extra toe.

"Do you have a favorite?" The interviewer quirked an eyebrow.

"Uh, I don't even know their names so I'm not exactly sure how I would have a favorite. But let's just say… That one with the black hair that usually sticks up? I don't know," I shrugged.

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