Chasing Char<3 (One Direction/Louis Tomlinson Fan-Fiction)

Chapter One

Chapter 1

‘And that’s curtain down everybody, great show.’ Then came the end to one of the best night of my life.

Hi, my names Charlotta Edwards and I’m half Swedish… hang on this sounds like an alcoholics anonymous meeting or something. Let’s start again, how about at the beginning?

Well I began my life like everybody else did, by being born. Then when I was two my parents were killed in a car crash on their way to my pre-school Christmas play, sad I know but please don’t pity me, I never really knew them so I don’t miss them too much. I was then shipped to England, where my Grandpa brought me up. I love him to bits and I don’t know what I would do without him, but trying to bring up a child whilst also keeping yourself alive off of a state pension isn’t easy. I got through Primary and Secondary school with good grades- never the top of my class and never the bottom. Apart from Maths, I sucked at maths. I left secondary school as soon as I could and got myself a job at a breakfast café straight away to support my Grandpa. After about a year of applying, I finally got landed with a second job at the O2 arena.

You see, it’s always been my dream to work in theatre or show business, never singing or dancing or performing in any way- but in directing. Since I couldn’t even contemplate going to any kind of theatre school, I settled for attempting the only other route. Start at the bottom and work my way up. So that’s where I find myself at the start of my story, the bottom of the dung heap. My official title is a stage hand, but if only it was that glamorous. I mainly just sit in the box office after the show as started to let in any late comers. Sometimes I even get to sweep up after everyone else has gone home! That is what my life has come to. Getting up at 5.30am every day and never being home before 12am on show nights, waiting on those above me with no signs of ever making any progress. Until now…

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‘Char, go sweep the floor in the foyer would you? The doors open in 2 hours.’ The crackly voice of my boss came through the walkie talkie latched onto the waistband of my skirt. I reply with an ‘Of course Mr Pembrey’ before making my way to the entrance hall, via the broom cupboard. Now if you’ve ever been to the O2 arena, you will know that it isn’t small, it’s not likely to be when it hosts an average of 20,000 people at least 3 times a week, this also follows that the foyer isn’t small either, and seeing as I have to print and organise all the tickets that still need to be picked up and fetch the food for the buffet from down the road and set it out, all before the show, I’m sort of on a tight schedule. So it really doesn’t help matters when I overhear a conversation that I just can’t help, and stay to listen to the whole thing because it could just be a lifeline.

‘Listen, Ali. I can’t come home from work, we have one our biggest gigs of the year tonight and there’s no-one who could possibly cover for me.’ I gathered she was talking into a phone as I didn’t hear anything else until she then said ‘I don’t care if Toby’s ill, I need to stay here. Wait that came out wrong. I’m sorry I didn’t mean that’ Pacing and a frustrated sigh followed before ‘I’ll see what I can do, Good bye Ali’

A second voice came from the same office, as a crack in the door totally by chance came into contact with eye. 

‘You should go home Laura you need to be with your son. We’ll manage; Mr Pembrey and his team will sort something out.’ 

Laura turned around suddenly, ‘I have no doubt in Mr Pembrey thank you very much Miss Turner, but we can’t run a show without a stage manager.’

Suddenly a clattering behind me told me that my broom had fallen over, and I obviously wasn’t the only person who heard it as the door disappeared from in front of me and I found myself sprawled out on the floor of the managing directors office, like the cool person I am.