That Girl Band (Liam Payne)

Part 1

I really didn't want to go, but Max begged me. Pleaded with me. She wanted to be a rock star. She wanted to be famous. She wanted to be the next big thing. And me? I caved. I decided to do it. I'm pretty sure my parents had heart attacks when we told them, but to their credit, they didn't interfere. They did beg me to keep my eye on Max, to not let her become a 'True Hollywood Story.' No drugs, No sex. Just rock and roll. And just like that, I become the mom of the group and we went on the road.

We played everywhere, riding in a smelly bus, going from city to city, never really sure where we were. Every once and a while we'd stay in a hotel, but for the most part, we lived on that bus. By Christmas, we had made it to New York City and people started asking to buy our music.

Benny took us to LA and got us a deal to record under the label he worked for, a subsidiarity of RCA. We hadn't had time for sex and drugs. In less than a year we'd made an EP, 4 songs. The three we had written and a cover of Madonna's Like a Virgin that was louder and angrier than the original. Benny decided that 'Hallway' was our best song and it was released. We made a video, mostly Max looking hot and angry, hanging all over a model, while I tried to hide behind my kit. Benny had hired a stylist to help us with our 'look.' Now, not only did I have blue hair, a much nicer wig with less bangs and messy ponytails, I wore an extremely short plaid skirt, a black lace crop top, way too much eye make up, and the ever present holster, which was now black leather. The other girls all were dressed in similar outfits and had agreed to hair cuts and color. Jesse had purple hair and Vi was bright red. She even went out a got a tattoo of a Viper on her shoulder and made sure you could always see it. She took Max with her and she got 'That Girl Band' surrounded by stars on her back right shoulder. Jesse went out and got the same one with music notes which sent Vi out to get it with a snake wrapped through it. That just left me. I didn't want a tattoo. I was the responsible one. I needed to be in control. I was the one mom and dad would kill. Here I was, barely 19, trying to keep three 21 year olds in line. Needless to say, I was dragged to the shop, given three shots of vodka and walked out with the tattoo, in the same place, surrounded by stars, because we were sisters and our tats needed to match, with a set of drumsticks under the words. Sometimes, I really hate Max.

Benny made us rock stars, just like he'd promised. We had a four bedroom penthouse to share, clothes, makeup and jewelry. We played bigger clubs, people paying to see us. We were asked to play on Ellen and Jimmy Falon. No interview, nobody really care who we were, yet. But, the song had cracked the top 40 and that was something.

I think it's hard to see what is happening to you when you are inside of it. I didn't feel famous. I didn't feel rich. Honestly, we didn't make much actual money. They paid our rent and expenses. Everything we did make, I was putting away, investing it, trying to make it last. I didn't see this lasting. I figured we'd be back home before the end of the summer, once the song wasn't popular anymore, and I'd see if U of M still wanted me on the drum line.

Even though I thought we'd be one hit wonders, even I was impressed when I was a verified account on twitter. Next to my name, Styx, was a blue check that meant I was somebody. The venues got bigger, hundreds of people instead of one hundred people. People starting showing up dressed like us. We had a tee-shirt with our name on it. There was even a poster of the four of us standing and looking angry, in our too short skirts and Doc Martens.

The first time someone asked Max for her autograph, she took a picture with the fan and posted it everywhere. She was more excited than the fan. Her wish had come true. She was famous. My wish was in ruins. I wasn't living in Michigan, I wasn't in college and I was wearing a stupid holster.

The next step, according to Benny, was to write another hit and find a band to tour with as an opening act. If we wanted to last, if we wanted to keep being famous, we had to write a song even better than Hallway. We needed to be out supporting our single. We had been on the road for a year and now he wanted us to go back. We'd only been in LA for a month and a half. I was beyond depressed, thinking I'd never live in one place again, until he told us who we'd be opening for. We needed to be in Toronto, Canada before August 1st to meet the biggest boyband in the world. We were going to open for One Direction. I loved them. I loved all pop music. I liked song that you could sing to on the radio. We always sounded a bit to angry for my taste.

Max, however, was another story. "Excuse me? Bubble gum pop? A boy band? Who aren't really even a band? They don't play anything. They just sing! The don't even dance! You have got to be kidding me. I am not a sell out. We want to tour with Pink! Or Fall Out Boy. Not One Fucking Direction!"

Benny grabbed her arm and put her up on her toes, using his other hand to point right at her face. "Listen here, Max. There are a thousand other bands out there right now who would die for this chance. There are millions of people who bought tickets to see One Direction. You need to make a choice. Take this chance or go home, girly. You aren't a diva, my dear. You need tons of number one hits before you get to order anyone around. If you want to be Madonna, if you want to be Pink, you will do what I say, when I say it and how I say it. If I tell you to jump, you ask how high. If I tell you to shave your head, you say how short. Those One Direction boys didn't get to have a world tour by acting like spoiled brats. They got it by working hard and doing what they were told. They played the fame game and won. You are in the position to win if you shut up and listen. The last band that opened for them are leaving because they need to make their second record and do their own tour. Do you want to play clubs or stadiums? You've got 3 seconds." He dropped her and crossed his arms, staring her down. Max blinked first.

"Okay. You win. I'll shut up." Max said. Then she turned, mumbling under her breath. The rest of us were behind her and she pushed her way though us to stomp to her room.

"Like she plays an instrument." Jesse mumbled, sending us into a fit of giggles. "She thinks she better than Harry Styles. Holy Shit, I just think it hit me. Harry Fucking Styles. I need to lay down." Jesse fell into a nearby chair, fanning herself with her hand. "Harry Styles."

Over the next few weeks, we worked on our set for the tour and writing new songs. We were sat down by the record company and signed contracts. Benny would be our tour manager, but now, we needed more people. It had been the five of us forever. Suddenly, we needed a groomer and roadies. Benny needed an assistant. And us? We got a babysitter. She was called a talent handler, but we knew what she was. We were also told, in no uncertain terms, that we were not allowed anywhere near any of the member of the One Direction. We were not to bother them. We were not to go looking for them. We had to stay out of their dressing room. If any of us were photographed with even one member of the band, we would be fined. They didn't want to be bothered and our record company wanted us to have a certain image. Walking out of the meeting, we were beyond stunned. They didn't want to meet us or be around us? On top of that, we weren't even to try to see them? Vi spoke first. "Well, squeaky clean pop stars are snobby. Good to know."

"Please. We will all be dating members of rock bands soon enough. Or maybe hockey players! Or actors. We don't need them. Assholes." Max said.

"Really?" Vi said. "And when is this going to happen? Is there a line outside the door that I don't know about?"

"No. But there will be." Max insisted. "But there will be. Just wait. This is it, girls. This is it."