Wrong Direction

Chapter 7: Definitive Deafening

After, what felt like another ten minutes of the torturing noise, Paul finally approached the boys and tapped them on the back, whispering something to each one. They then all gradually made their way along the crowd towards the entrance of the hotel.

“Excuse me, Miss Candice?”

 I spun around to a familiar Irish voice to see one of the FBI look-alikes glaring down at me. He must have been the one outside the storage cupboard door yesterday, searching for Harry. Ha!

“We’re heading out now and Paul has instructed me to keep an eye on you today.” He attempted a smile but it failed, miserably. Oh great, my own personal babysitter. “I’m Weldon.”

“An eye on me?” I sighed, completely uninterested.

“Yes, that is correct.” He nodded, before pressing his earpiece in his ear. “We have to move now, the cars are here. Put your hair down.”

I looked up at him in surprise, but I pulled the hairband from my hair anyway - way too lazy to care. My brown wavy hair fell around my face in waves. It must have been Weldon’s tone of authority that had triggered my submissive subconscience to obey his orders.

Before I had a chance to object, he was shuffling me forward. I followed behind, who I thought was, Niall. I looked back at the lobby one last time as we walked through the double doors. The girls who had been in the front row during the signing, were now crying their eyes out. Some were kneeling on the floor in plead, begging the boys to come back.

Geezus, calm your farms girls.

When I stepped out into the sunlight of the beautiful Sydney day, I was absolutely shell shocked. I wasn’t even sure if I gasped or not as I couldn’t hear myself over the squealing and yelling. The sun was so bright that I had to squint my eyes and put my hand forward to feel my way – Weldon continued to gently usher me forward into the unknown. I could tell that we weren’t being mobbed – the crowd was obviously being contained by barriers allowing us a path, hopefully to an awaiting escape car of some sort.

Oh God, I hoped so.

The walkway was lined with photographers, all yelling out to the boys. I quickly looked to my right between two suited security men, to the crowd – my eyes now adjusted. There were posters, hands, flags and I could have sworn I saw a blow up Louis doll, all being waved frantically in the air. I couldn’t see the back of the crowd, and it made me wonder how many people there had to have been…

Suddenly there was an uproar of screams. I slowed down to see what was happening. Harry had pushed through the security guards, who ushered us along the red carpet, and had thrown himself at the crowd. Their snatching hands were all over him, almost pulling him over the barricade. The photographers surrounded the space and I lost sight of him.

Oh my God, this was madness.

“Shit!” I heard Weldon shout from behind me.

Paul and MIB man, Samson, were onto Harry in a flash. Weldon was there not a second later, helping to pry Harry from the girl’s arms. Paul then threw him over his shoulder. I could see Harry in fits of laughter as Paul carried him with ease, Harry’s huge grin lighting up his face. He waved to the crowd and another explosive round of screams filled the air, followed by another round of camera flashes.

At the end of the walkway, I saw the other four guys jump into a large black van, all cracking up too. Samson slammed shut the door and the van pulled onto the road. Another replaced it instantly.

“Keep moving, Candice!” Weldon shouted at me from further down the walkway as he held back a crowd of photographers trying to engulf Paul and Harry.