Liam’s POV
“I got my diploma. Its official now!” she says with a grin when I come back on the bus.
“That’s great,” I say with a half forced smile as she goes back to texting someone. I was growing worried for her. It was easy to look at this little tour life around us and pretend it was the real world. But this would end and living in New York would be work. All she was thinking about was the social life and not about the responsibility she’d have to take to live there. She’d gotten back in touch with her friends in the few days since she’d graduated. I didn’t like them. They were a bad influence on her. I’d never even met the New York ones but already I was beginning to see her revert back to her old self. There was more sneers, more clubbing. Less of the girl showing interest in our everyday lives. I was nervous that when we finally did get back to New York in a week, she’d switch back completely.
“So where are we going tonight?” she asks, closing her phone and finally looking at me.
“I was hoping we could just stay in,” I confess as I climb into the bunk.
“But I just got my diploma,” she pouts. “I wanted to celebrate.”
“We could celebrate here… just the two of us,” I offer, leaning down to kiss her and slipping her phone from her grasp.
“Hey give that back,” she complains, reaching for it when I slip it into my pocket.
“They can wait,” I tell her, pressing my lips to hers. She pulls back and I catch a glimpse of a frown on her face as she twists around to grab her phone from my back pocket. I let out a sigh, rolling off her as she sits back up and resumes texting.
“I’m going out tonight,” she announces, sliding off the bunk. “Stay here if you like. I’ll see you when I get back.”
As she’s leaving, she brushes past Lauren who appears in the doorway.
“Where’s she going?” she asks in surprise at the brush off, walking into the bus.
“Wherever she wants. God knows she always does,” I grumble earning a look of sympathy from her.
“Well I guess that answers my question then,” she says leaning against the wall. “We were going to see if you two wanted to watch a movie with us.
“Yea, that’s not going to happen,” I scoff with a roll of my eyes.
“Is everything alright?” Lauren asks, moving away from the door to sit down on the edge of the bed.
“I dunno… she just… ugh,” I sigh.
“Come on, tell Auntie Lauren your problems,” she jokes. “We’ve been to therapy, maybe we can help.” I can’t help but crack a grin at that logic.
“She’s just. She’s turning back into the person we met at the beginning of tour. I thought she’d changed when she…” I trail off letting Lauren fill in the blanks. “But she hasn’t. And it’s not even that she’s selfish, because that would imply she at least realized there was something someone else wanted. It’s like she doesn’t even realize that other people might want something else. She just expects everyone to bow down to her wishes.”
“People don’t change unless they want to Liam,” Lauren answers. “And if you went into this relationship expecting to be able to change her, that’s not fair to her.”
“Yea…” I say with a sigh. She was right, I knew it. I just didn’t want to admit that some part of me had been hoping she’d change.
Elodie’s POV
Can’t you just skip out on the rest and come early?
I frown a bit as I read the text, feeling conflicted. More than anything, I wanted to head to New York. I missed my old friends and I was eager to get back to the clubs. It had been so long since I’d gotten belligerently drunk and I couldn’t wait to do it again. But at the same time, I’d sort of promised Liam I’d stay. And besides, it would be weird if I was there and he was here after spending so many months together.
Can’t. Dad would freak I text her back, knowing it would be a believable excuse with what I’d told them about his controlling nature.
Lame she responds almost instantly.
Only a week more I answer.
Good. We’re going to get shitfaced
Her response makes me chuckle, and I’m still chuckling as the boys return to the dressing room after the meet and greet.
“What’s so funny?” Liam asks falling down onto the couch beside me.
“Nothing,” I respond, pocketing my phone and dropping the smile.
“So I’ve got some good news for you,” he says.
“Yea?” I ask doubtfully, raising an eyebrow.
“Yea,” he says with a nod. “I was talking with Lou earlier and she said she’d be willing to give you a job as her assistant. You’d be able to come back to London with us and on our tours and everything.”
“And that’s supposed to be good news?” I ask flatly. His look of surprise tells me that yes it was. “Do you really think this is something I wanted to be doing?”
“Well… you can sew and you like… clothes…” he says in a lame attempt to persuade me.
“And you can cook and like food. Does that mean you want to be a chef?” I retort. “This was something I did because I had to. Not something I wanted to. And what about New York hmm?”
“Well I thought…”
“I’m going to New York. Got it? I don’t need you planning my life for me. God, you’re worse than my father sometimes.” I didn’t really mean it and I felt a bit bad as the words flowed out, but at the same time who was he to tell me how to live my life? If I wanted to go to New York, I would and nobody was going to stop me.
“Ok,” he says, holding his hands up in a surrender. “It was just an idea. You can go to New York if you want.” Despite my victory, I feel a bit guilty This in turn causes a wave of anger to wash over me. Only he could make me feel guilty about doing something I wanted to do. Back before I’d joined this tour, I couldn’t have given a rat’s ass if someone was upset by something I’d done. But this damn boy could make me feel guilty over the littlest things.
“Look, we’ll stay in tonight if you want,” I say in an attempt to compromise. He nods his head but I can tell his thoughts are elsewhere. I sigh, slumping down into the couch and taking my phone out again. I didn’t have any new texts or anything, but I still acted like I was talking to people to avoid the awkward silence. After a minute, he sighs and gets up, heading towards the door.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Well you’re obviously busy,” he says hardly even glancing back. “I’m going to go see what the others are up to. Maybe get some work done.” With that, he heads to the other corner of the room where the rest of the band was all gathered. It was only seconds later that I hear him start laughing at something Louis says, causing me to slump down further into the couch. It didn’t do any good to sulk yet here I was. I had to shake this mood. Standing up, I head for the door of the dressing room, making a point not to look over at the boys as I leave. Out in the hall, I pause for a second as I try to figure out where to go before eventually heading for the Aussies dressing room. They’d be getting ready to go on right now, but the chaos would keep me distracted. Sure enough, when I walk in, Lou is pulling the last bits of tin foil out of Michael’s hair, revealing newly bleached blond hair.
“Wow,” I laugh as I walk over to the chair. He grins, looking up before standing as Lou sends him to the shower to wash the bleach out. I look in the mirror, playing with the ends of my own hair while Luke takes the seat for Lou to put his hair up in the usual quiff.
“You sure like to surprise everyone don’t you?” I joke as Michael comes back out and takes his chair back.
“Got to keep them guessing,” he replies with a wink while Lou blows it dry.
“I could use a haircut,” I muse.
“Do something crazy,” Michael says instantly. “Shave it bald.” I let out a laugh.
“Nah… The Brittany Spears look isn’t really for me,” I tease.
“It’d be hot,” Ashton joins in from across the room, that stupid grin on his face. Lou taps Michael on the shoulder to tell him he was done and then motions me into the chair as he gets up. She plays with my hair, looking at me through the mirror.
“Do you want something different?” she asks.
“Kind of,” I tell her. “I’m alittle bored of this.”
“Do you trust me?” she asks and I hesitate.
“If I look like a clown I’m going to kill you,” I respond instead. She laughs, taking that as an ok and turning me around so I can’t see the mirror.
“If you look like a clown you are free to cut my hair,” she promises as she picks up the scissors. It only takes a few snips before the boys are swarmed around with large smiles on their face.
“She’s going to kill you,”
“Shut up Luke,”
“Oh my god,”
“Don’t look down,” Lou says as she continues snipping when I try to glance down to see the hair on the floor to gauge how much was gone. The boys’ comments had me nervous as to what was happening.
“Go,” I order when Luke pulls out his phone to take a picture. “Don’t you have a show to start?”
“You’re no fun,” he pouts putting it away, but I was right. Their manager walks into the room and calls them to the stage, leaving them rushing to grab the last minute things they needed before heading to the stage. Once the cutting is done, she mixes up a bowl of bleach and starts highlighting my hair. It’s only when I’m washing it out in the shower do I get an idea of how short it is.
“Ready to see?” Lou asks after she’s finished blow drying it and adding a bit of hairspray.
“Show me,” I order. She turns the chair around with a confident smile and my jaw drops in the mirror. A quick glance down confirms the lack of hair on my head and my eyes jerk back up. It was short. Alot shorter than I’d anticipated, although it was a bit longer in the front. I turn my head to the side to see the back, my hands involuntarily going to touch my hair.
“So am I getting a haircut or not?” Lou jokes as I stand up.
“I don’t know what to say,” I answer. I didn’t even know what to think. It was so different that my brain was having trouble comprehending. It didn’t look bad. It was just different. I looked older. She lets out a laugh, packing up a few of the supplies and cleaning up the floor.
“I’ve got to go get the boys ready. I’ll leave you to take in your new do,” she teases and, unable to look away from the mirror, I give a nod. Once she was gone, I lean closer towards the mirror to examine my hair even more. I wondered how everyone would react. I force myself to look away and I walk out of the room. I flash the all access pass around my neck as I head toward the noise, finally emerging on the floor of the arena where one of the guards brings me to the sound board. I catch the end of the Aussie’s set and ignore the looks around me from the fangirls who noticed my entrance. It starts getting annoying after a couple minutes and I begin wondering why I’d even come out here to watch the show instead of just going back to the bus like usual. I’m about to leave when the lights dim again and a scream erupts from the crowd as the entry video starts playing.
During the second song, I start contemplating leaving again when Michael’s head pops up next to me.
“Surprised to see you here” he comments and I give a shrug in response. “So what do you think?”
“That Good Girls song was decent,” I admit, finally looking over to see the rest of the band had made their way out to watch the boys on stage. Michael chuckles, looking mildly amused by my answer.
“I meant about your hair, but I’m glad you liked the song,” he jokes.
“Oh,” I say feeling my cheeks turn pink.
“Well I think its nice,” he says. “You look just like Niall now.” The words are barely out of his mouth before I’ve smacked him in the chest. “Heyyy,” he jokingly complains, rubbing the place I hit. “ I could’ve said you looked like me… we could be the three musketeers… ouch!” he whines as I hit him again. “Jeez, Liam must like it rough.” I raise an arm to hit him again but he quickly takes a step back, raising his arms in surrender. “Ok, Ok, I’m done,” he says. “So are you staying for the show?” he asks, nodding at the boys on stage.
“I don’t know, maybe,” I say with a shrug. I hadn’t actually watched the whole show since I’d gone with my sister. A part of me thought maybe I should. I look towards the stage, which is pretty hard to see from back here, but I’m able to pick out Liam on one of the sides as he points to someone in the audience then puts his hand on his stomach and does his little dance thing. I almost felt proud of him. Seeing him up on the stage, you could tell he could do this for the rest of his life and never once regret it. He knew what he wanted from life and he had gone and gotten it. I was jealous of him, I realized, my mood souring.
“Where are you going?” Michael asks as I step away from the rail.
“I’m going back to the bus,” I mutter. I was pretty sure there was a bottle of wine in one of the cabinets and god knows I needed a drink now. I couldn’t wait to get out of here. Away from all these people who had life figured out.