Status Single (One Direction)

Status Single

Chapter One

Rae's POV

*@statussingle: Can't wait for the signing in L.A.! I heard there's already a queue! Love you guys so much! -Rae xx*

I tapped the "tweet" symbol on my white iPhone 5, and slipped it back into my pocket. I sipped at my mango smoothie and stared out the window longingly. I was sitting on a white leather couch in the hotel room, awaiting the call from Rob, our bodyguard, telling me it was time to go for the signing.

I could hear the fans outside on the street. They chanted our name, and held up signs. I wanted to run down the stairs and meet every single one of them, but I wasn't allowed. That was honestly the worst part about the whole bodyguard thing. Instead, I was forced to watch them through my window, and not do anything about it.

"Rae! Have they called yet?" I heard Paris ask from the bathroom. She was still focused on her hair, which hasn't changed in the last twenty minutes. Paris' hair had to be perfect; no matter where she was going. Our bathroom - which was connected to the room we shared - had countertops cluttered with curlers, straighteners, blow dryers, dry shampoo, hair gel, elastics, combs, and every other kind of product she was allowed to bring.

"No, they haven't called," I answered. Paris emerged from the toilet, her long, light brown hair in loose curls around her face. Paris had sparkling blue-green eyes, and freckles that lightly dotted her cheeks. Her skin was clear, and tanned golden. She had the gorgeous figure that all of us had, but her clothes didn't fit in quite as well. Right now, for instance, she wore fitted jean shorts that were dark red, and a blue and white striped crop top that showed her belly button.

"I hate being cooped up," she complained, "Simon won't even let us party until Friday. I feel like I'm being grounded."

"It's your fault we're on celebrity house arrest in the first place, Paris," I reminded her.

Paris sat down next to me and rolled her eyes, "It's not my fault I like to party."

"Aren't you supposed to be the mature one?" I questioned, "I mean, you ARE the oldest."

"Age is just a number, baby."

I smiled at my best friend in the band and got up from the couch, handing the rest of my smoothie to Paris, and unlocking the patio door.

"Rob said not to do that," Paris stated. We looked at each other, before laughing. It's cute how Rob thinks we'll actually listen to everything he says.

Paris hopped off the couch and followed me out onto the small patio area. The fans pointed and screamed when they saw us, and we waved happily. Our room was only on the third floor, so we weren't too far up. I love talking with the fans, because all of them are so amazing.

"How are you guys doing?" I called down to the group of about twenty American fans. There was a chorus of "good" 's, as well as a few more screams.

"We love you guys so much!" Paris told them honestly, and I nodded in agreement.

"Where's Callie?" one fan asked.

"Where's Natalie?"

"Where's Charlotte?

I smiled, "One second!" I shouted, but Paris was already tapping on her blackberry. A few seconds later, Natalie and Callie dramatically emerged from the hotel room beside us.

Natalie was a quieter girl with long, dark hair that was almost black. Her hair was long and straight, with bangs the hid one of her eyes about 90% of the time. It was also buzzed on the other side, making it slightly resemble Skrillex. Her big brown eyes were gorgeous, and her olive skin tone was inherited from her mother's side. Natalie had a nose piercing stud, and had earings as well. She wore a black t-shirt with a navy blue varsity jacket, dark skinny jeans, and converse high tops. Her arms were always covered with bracelets and tattoos.