Don't Blink:A One Direction Fan Fiction

Chapter 1

  Have you ever noticed how your life can change in a split second? Your entire world could be flipped upside down within a heartbeat. My name is Crystal Ivy; About a year ago I was making audition videos in my bedroom. And now I’m one of the biggest actresses in the world. Within seconds my name had a several digit price tag glued to it. Movie star life must sound amazing. Everyone knows you, you make a whole lot of money, and you get to meet the celebrities people dream to. But no one tells you about the negative aspects. The lack of privacy, the risk of going bling from the camera flashes, and the lingering fear of failure and losing it all.

***

I stroll into my talent agent’s office without a clue to what she needs me for. She called me a few minutes ago, telling me to meet her at her office as soon as possible. When I reached the towering tented glass French doors that lead into her station, I twisted the brass handle and sauntered towards her. Her blonde hair was tied back neatly in a tight bun and she wears a blue, knee length skirt with a white dress shirt, and a matching navy jacket. Her glasses hang just below their proper position from her looking down at her monitor all day.

“Hello Jane,” I speak to gain her attention. She shoots her head up like a deer; quick and with purpose. Her blue eyes look directly at me. I stiffen. I’m not sure why, but I do that every time she stares me down.

“Crystal, just the person I wanted to see,” she says as she examines me thoroughly. I am wearing a pair of ripped, faded jeans, with a white tank top and a light pink blazer. Also a silver key necklace hangs low in my shirt. “Take a seat,” she insists as she gestures towards a black leather chair with artificial fur draping from one arm. I walk over and sit down on the satisfying cushion. She maneuvers her swivel chair so she is facing directly at me. “Have you heard of a boy band by the name of One Direction?” she questions me. I nod; who hasn’t?

“Yes,” I reply simply. I watch as she scribbles down a note on her pad. She does that often, and I always wonder what it is she writes, but I never dare to ask.

“Are you fond of their music?” she inquires. I pick at my blazer subconsciously.

“It’s catchy,” I answer. She yet again dots down another note. “Why the interrogation?”

“We have an arrangement,” she explains.

“What kind of arrangement?” I further investigate. She grabs a small pile of paper work on her desk and straightens it so they are perfectly aligned.

“You see, now that your movie deal is done, your fame is dwindling. And in this business you need to stay on top. So One Direction’s management and I have a plan that would benefit both parties,” Jane clarifies. I lean over, suddenly taking more interest in this meeting. “You and Harry Styles are going to be the next big couple!” she announces excitedly.

“What?!?” I demand. “No! I’m not some sort of Barbie you can toy with!” she shoots me daggers.

“Crystal, you don’t understand fame, do you? Everything you see in magizines and articles are all fabrications for publicity,” she tells me. Anger boils up inside me, but before it could spill over, the heat was eclipsed by a blanket of fear. Was she right? Could everything I worked and dreamed for disappear like that? I twist my fingers around my key necklace and bite my lip. I can’t just throw all this away. Jane stares at me with irritated eyes. I sigh and brush a lock of brown hair out of my face.

“I guess you’re right,” I surrender. She smirks slightly.

“I always am,” she says. I look down to my hot pink TOMS and study the hardwood flooring. Sometimes this business is so unfair and terrible. I don’t want my love life to be a complete lie. I want a real, genuine relationship that feels right and pure. But if I don’t go with it all of my hard work and dedication would mean nothing. Suddenly, Jane lifts her phone and inputs a number. After a moment of silence she finally speaks. “Hi Paul! She’s on board! Bring him up!” she says, When she places the phone back down her blue eyes look coldly into my brown orbs. “You are an actress. Act like you like this,” she instructs. I wish I could think of it that way; but the only difference is, this isn’t a movie, it’s my life.