Andy On My Mind (1D/ Liam Payne)

CH8

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“Welcome to bootcamp,” Simon Cowell said as he confidently walked onto the stage, followed by the three other judges signed on for the season: Louis Walsh, Tulisa, and Cheryl Cole. Hundreds of us were all sitting on the stage floor in a semi-circle formation, our excited and nervous chatter completely coming to a halt as soon as the judge's came to our view.

“This year, there will be three different stages of the competition for bootcamp. First, a solo audition. Second, group rounds, and third, a final audition to determine which one of you is lucky enough to remain will get through to judge's houses,” he continued explaining, walking back and forth. “Without delaying any longer, let's get started, shall we?”

The judges walked off the stage, taking their posts on the tables facing us. We were told to remain in our semi-circle formation, allowing whoever was to perform to stand in the midst of everyone during their audition. Catching the nervous chatter floating to my ear, I could tell some people became more nervous at the thought of such an unconventional matter. To me though, I couldn't help but hide my ecstatic grin, considering that I was nervous of having to face not only the judges, but all the other contestants as well. At least this way, they were behind me and I could pretend that they weren't there at all.

“What?” Liam whispered as the first person called forward started to sing.

“Nothing,” I replied, shaking my head, the grin on my face refusing to falter.

“Not nervous at all anymore?” he asked, subtly referring to what happened last time.

I expressively rolled my eyes at him in attempts to downplay what had happened to make it seem like it was no big deal.

“Think you're all that now, huh?”he jokingly nudged.

Shaking my head, I laughed and turned away from him to face the front to focus on the current performer. One by one, each of us awkwardly shuffled to the middle of the stage and sang a thirty second clip of our chosen song. Miraculously, my audition went smoothly. When my number was called, my heart dropped to the pits of my stomach but Liam gave me a slight push towards the front and off I went.

“What's your name, love?” Tulisa asked, looking up from her notes to look me in the eye.

“Andy Flynn,” I stated nervously.

“Alright, go ahead,” Louis said as Simon cued in the music.

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When everyone was finished, like sheep, they herded us toward a vast open room with chairs to wait for the judge's decision. In groups of 10, we were called onto the stage where they would tell us if we made it or otherwise. And of course, as my luck would have it, I would have to wait until the very last group to be called.

The room was entirely silent, with the random hushed whispers every so often. For the most part, everyone was too nervous to say anything. Occasionally a camera crew would walk in to catch some footage of everyone waiting and people would sit up straight and pretend that nothing would faze them, but as soon as the shot panned out and the crew left, we all returned to our shoulders slumped, fidgety positions as we stared at the door to wait for our group to be called.

“Andy, calm down,” Liam whispered, offering me a reassuring smile.

“What? I am calm. What makes you think I'm not calm?” I answered, attempting to cover up my anxiety.

“Your knuckles are turning white. If you don't stop clenching your fists every ten seconds, you're going to cut all the circulation out and end up with no hands,” he exaggeratedly teased.

“Liar,” I aggravatingly accused. “How are you so damn calm?”

“Oh, I'm not. I'm drowning in a pool of sweat and anxiety. I just hide it better,” he winked.

“Psh, you're not hiding that sweat very well. You're stinking up the place,” I jokingly scoffed, making a show of pinching the bridge of my nose and fanning my hand to waft his scent away from me.

His mouth dropped open, mocking offense. “I do not!”

“Um, yeah, you do,” I lied.

“Oh yeah? How do you like my smell?” he asked. There was a mischievous smirk crossing his facial features as he put his arm around me and pulled me in for a headlock.

“Gert. Offer. Meh!,” I whined, my voice muffled by his arm covering my mouth. I was furiously swatting at him to get him to let go of me.

The little scene of ours garnered dirty looks from the other contestants left waiting, their eyes in slits as they stared daggers at the two rascals in the back corner wrestling each other.

“Shh,” one of them reprimanded. Automatically, Liam let go and put his hands up in the air, as if the person pointed a gun at him and yelled 'freeze!'

“Sorry, mate,” he apologized charmingly.

“It was his fault, but I'm sorry too,” I laughed, putting on my most innocent face.

Liam jokingly humphed and crossed his arms like a five year old. I on the other hand, just rolled my eyes, focusing once more at the door to wait for one of the producers to call my group in.

Few by few, groups dissipated. The atmosphere of the room seemed to increase with each passing moment. It seemed as if the less people that were left waiting, the worst the tension got. The triumphant cries and tense whispers echoing the halls increased the heartbeats of those like Liam and I who still sat anxiously, twiddling with our thumbs. Though it was completely silent, I could tell we all had the same thoughts floating in our heads.

Would the butterflies in our stomach be released to further fly out into the world and experience new heights, or would they be clipped of their wings, along with our dreams that would be left to die?

My mind, as always, instead of straddling the line between glass half empty and glass half full, dwelt in the pessimistic side of things. As my thoughts further spiraled at how devastating it would be to be told that I didn't have what it takes and having to go home and face everyone's pitying looks, I began to pant, causing Liam to shoot me a worried look.

“Next group,” one of the producers called out, catching Liam's attention. His head snapped towards the direction of the exit, but he was caught between where he was needed, and where he wanted to be. “Come on then,” one of the people in his group said, pushing him forward.

“Go on, I'm fine,” I urged, putting on a weak smile.

He let the guy slightly push him towards the line up by the exit, but his eyes never left me. Just before the group was set to leave the room, there was a shuffle as someone in the crowd excused himself and said that he'd be right back.

Appearing in my sight, Liam knelt down in front of me as he urgently grabbed my shoulders. “Andy, I know you're lying. You're not fine. But you need to believe that you will be. I've got to go now, but focus on breathing properly, okay? Inhale, exhale. I'll see you on the other side,” he said. I nodded, desperately focusing on the sound of his voice to bring me back to reality.

He wearily walked off, giving me one last smile. As he rounded the corner, my breathing returned to normal and I smiled to myself, ecstatic that I managed to prevent another panic attack, or rather he did.