Tangerine

Chapter 9

Soundtrack: The Ronettes - Be My Baby (1963)

Dedication: Brittany — You're really sweet. I love your comments and seeing you on Twitter, too. I'm so happy you're a fan of Tangerine. Thank you so much for being here and sharing the love :D —Jen

·

I am officially a space case.

With our hectic schedules and our growing amount of band homework, I completely forgot that the holidays are soon approaching. I didn't even clue in that our first group rehearsal with One Direction was also our last rehearsal together until after the new year.

"At least you'll get more time with Louis," Elijah offers positively over our phone connection.

"We don't need more time. We're just hooking up sometimes," I dismiss, brushing off the matter. "Besides, his birthday is Christmas Eve. He's going home to Doncaster with his family."

"For the whole break?"

I needlessly shrug. "Most of it."

"Huh," Elijah considers. "When he's not out for photo ops, I reckon."

"You said it."

Until the tenth of January, we've come to a much needed slow. Aside from our band's tradition of Secret Santa during the holiday season, we've mostly been active with promotion and preparation for the tour. Basically, this is our calm before the storm. It's our time to sort things out at home and let our rehearsals sink in, all while we hold fast and brace ourselves for the announcement to be released.

Unfortunately for One Direction, being on "break" doesn't necessarily mean they're any less busy. As the biggest pop group in the world, they've constantly got so much more on their plates than we do.

I hope they remember to eat their vegetables.

·

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" a drunken man passes us, stumbling down the sidewalk.

Keith checks his watch, frowning. "It's half ten."

"Put on your party hat, Quinn," Pete charms lightly, walking along next to him. "The night's not over yet."

"D'you think this is a good idea? Goin' out there tonight like this?" Keith asks skeptically. His brown paper bag hasn't been lifted once for a swig since we left Pete's.

"Why should we care?" I dismiss lightly, a little buzzed from our pre-drink. "We're here, in person. Everything's easier in person."

"It's New Year's Eve," Elijah adds with a smile. "Everyone's gonna be drunk anyway."

"See, ya don't see it," Keith criticises, still too focused on the negative reviews we received today. "Our own fans are turnin' on us, just because we're even an option. What about when they find out we're it? It's like ya don't care that we're gettin' ripped on."

"We care, Keith!" Pete laughs, assuring him. "We're just getting drunk about it!"

Keith looks at our bassist and gives off a sigh. Knocking his bottleneck off the one in Pete's hands, he takes a deep swig for himself. "True, amigo."

·

The four of us file through the front doors of the pub, only to continue pushing towards the rear. There is a band on stage and the patrons of the tavern are drunk and enraptured. My ears are full, a wall of noise.

"Smoke a joint?" Pete calls back as we're moving through the crowd.

"Yeah," I nod ahead at him.