There's an author's note at the end of this. Read if you want. If you don't, read it anyway, because I'm watching.
~~~~~~~~~~~
I am going to punch that bird right in its inconvenient beak, I think as I'm rudely awoken by a bluebird outside my window. Normally I have no problem with birds, but when one wakes me at "What the fuck?" o'clock after a late night, I kind of feel in the mood for chicken for the rest of the day.
I grumble as I roll off my bed and onto my white carpeted floor. Graceful, Erin. You should be a ballerina. I lift myself up lazily and walk into the bathroom. I do my bathroom business and I momentarily thank the bird for forcing me to get up. It's normally a Hunger Games-type battle for the bathroom every morning between my sister and me: may the odds be ever in my favor. Since I'm up early I can take as long as I want making myself not look like a deranged hedgehog.
Before that though, I must fill this void in my stomach. I walk back into my room and grab my iPod because I can never just eat; I need to actually be doing something while I stuff my face. Yesterday morning I read while I chewed corn flakes. Today I will be watching YouTube videos while I eat toaster waffles.
As I push my waffles skillfully into the toaster oven with a fork (burnt finger, my ass), I try and decide what I'm going to watch today. While I'm thinking, I open my Twitter app just to give me some ideas.
I scroll through my timeline without really reading anything but one tweet catches my eye: "Niall's Secret Princess" It's an article by some irrelevant gossip website that has tens of thousands of retweets. Partially out of curiosity and partially out of dread, I tap the article while I reach into the toaster oven.
"AAARGHH!" I yell, having accidentally touched the top of the oven instead of grabbing my glorious waffles. I got distracted by the article and I didn't pay attention to the fact that I just blindly stuck my hand into Fahrenheit 451. Mr. Bradbury would be proud.
I waddle childishly to the sink fill a plastic ducky cup with cold water. I stick my entire left hand into the cup and sigh with relief as my finger is soothed. I lift my iPod up again and continue reading as my finger soaks:
'The boys of the pop sensation One Direction are famous for their 'lady stories', what with member Zayn Malik being accused of cheating on girlfriend Perrie Edwards on countless events and other member Harry Styles controversially dating TV presenter Caroline Flack who was over fifteen years older than the boy at the time. Other members Louis Tomlinson and Liam Payne have had steady girlfriends for a large part of the band's career with almost no problems or backlash. All that's left is Niall Horan.
'The Irish heartthrob happens to be the only member of 1D who hasn't had a girlfriend since their days on the British reality show The X Factor. He was rumored to have been interested in singer Demi Lovato for a while, but all that simmered down after she stated she'd rather not be in a relationship at that time. Other than that, Mr. Horan has not been affiliated with any girl for an extended period. But from what recent media might suggest, this bachelor has finally found a lady-friend.
'Videos and pictures taken by fans who observed it happening report Niall isolating one girl throughout their entire New Jersey concert last night. Concert-goers say that during the opening song, Niall spotted this girl right away and stopped singing to whisper something into her ear. The pictures show Niall holding the hand of an anonymous red-haired girl and holding a microphone to his mouth. The videos are short and posted by multiple different fans who were sitting behind her and they each have the boy band singer serenading the girl.
'Is this mystery girl the next 1D girlfriend? From the evidence, she looks a bit younger than Mr. Horan himself, and he comes to her so often throughout the concert that we can't help but think there's something going on between them. One Direction's management has not made a comment on the rumored couple and neither have any of the boys. We guess we'll have to wait until the relationship is confirmed to say anything with this fiery-haired fan is official. Until then, keep your hopes up, Niall fans.'
I've been chewing my waffle this whole time. I swallow down the clump of cinnamon mush when I break out of the trance the article put me in. The fans think I'm Niall's girlfriend? While I'm flattered to be thought of as the 'fiery-haired' girl-of-Niall's-dreams, I'm terrified of what could happen to me.
Attached to the article is a gallery of photos taken at the concert along with about twenty different videos. I scroll through the gallery, anxious to see how recognizable my face is. Luckily none of the people who were taking photos were able to get my entire image; the most anyone can see is my profile, but if you knew me, you'd be able to tell right away. Whoever was in charge of humidity that day definitely had me in mind. My hair looks tame and not frizzy, comparatively.
I press play on one of the videos and swear out loud when my iPod says it can't support the format. I stuff the rest of my piping hot waffle into my mouth and sprint down the hall to grab my laptop. While I'm waiting for it to turn on, I decide to go to Niall's profile to see what the fans have said to him.
He tweeted last night about how loud the audience was and fans are using that to reply to, hoping he'll answer.
"Omg do u lyk hav a gf? is she that gurl in da vids?" @DjMaLiKxOxO
"Why am I not good enough for you, Nialler? I want you to sing to me!" -34horanzwerld
"demi is NOT gonna lik this!!!1!!11!!one!!" -Lovatictioner2002
I ignore the horrid spelling and grammar mistakes and try to focus on the content. Plenty of fans are genuinely angry at the idea of Niall dating a fan. I would've thought they'd be happy, considering how often they bitch about him doing so. I guess when they say "fan" they actually mean "DATEMENIALLOMGIWANTTOHAVEYOURBABIES" instead. It's not even confirmed yet and they're already about to claw each others' faces off.
Wait.
People from my school know me. And many people from my school like One Direction. And many people will be seeing these pictures and picking me out right away.
Shit to the umpteenth power. I have to do something.
I click and open Facebook and, lo and behold, I have multiple posts on my wall asking about Niall. The most recent ones are just from random people, but all the way at the beginning of the timeline of posts are messages only from girls I know to be hardcore fans. I assume that other people saw their posts then researched it themselves and came to the conclusion that they should ask me about it. Thanks, girls. Couldn't you have just asked me in private? Now everyone who regularly checks their Facebook knows.
At least that's only narrowed down to people I know. The public still thinks that mysterious ginger girl is still a mystery. I must choke the weed before it grows. I compose a Facebook status.
"To everyone who has seen the video of Niall Horan from One Direction and that redhead girl, it is NOT me. I have never met him and I would appreciate if you stopped asking me."
I hesitate before posting it. Am I really okay with lying to over a thousand people I've met (whoa, we got a badass over here)? After a few moments of harsh moral weighing, I decide I can't do that. But I also can't mention it in my status because then all the people who didn't know about the article would see me posting it and maybe one of them would tell the rest of the Internet. I'll just have to trust the goodness and intelligence of my colleagues.
I'm screwed.
~~~~~~~~~~~
At noon I emerge from my room like the social butterfly I'll never be and walk into the kitchen for lunch.
"Erin!" Katie shouts through a mouthful of tuna salad. "You're not dead!"
"No, I guess I'm not," I laugh. "But I swore I had a conversation with Abraham Lincoln last night. Must've been a dream."
Katie giggles and takes a huge bite out of her sandwich, accompanying this action with an 'omnomnom'. I open the fridge to see what options are available for my consumption. Nothing appeals to me so I check the cupboards. Still nothing. I lower my standards and check the fridge again, eventually deciding on leftover pasta.
"How was the concert?" Katie asks, licking her fingers. "Did you stay 'Up All Night' last night?" She chortles at her own joke. I chuckle a bit, proud that she's remembering the titles of songs. She came up to me about a week ago and asked me all about One Direction. I gladly began teaching her everything I knew, starting with their X Factor auditions. I made her a playlist of YouTube videos to watch so she can catch up quickly. Yesterday when I checked her progress, she was watching their fifth video diary.
"It was absolutely amazing," I respond, digging into my cold pasta. "And I only stayed up 'til, you know, one o'clock."
Katie's eyes go wide. "One? Are you like some superhero? I can't stay up past nine-thirty! Not that Mom would let me." She frowns as she begins arranging her abandoned crusts into a smiley face for our mother to find and clean up later.
"Your birthday is in two weeks, Katie," I reassure her. "When I turned ten Mom moved by bedtime to ten. She'll definitely do the same for you."
"I guess..." Katie gets up to wash her hands when she stops suddenly. I can almost visualize the light bulb going off above her head. "Does that mean your bedtime is five in the morning?"
"Yes. Yes it does." I put down my fork and stare at Katie with as much seriousness as I can muster. Her eyes get even wider and she walks away with a perplexed look on her face. I chuckle and get back to my delicious leftovers.
I pull out my iPod and open Twitter once more, hoping the pictures of Niall and I disappeared. Unfortunately, they did not. I'd even say the spreading of the article has tripled since I last checked the Internet this morning, along with other articles by different websites and magazines.
Out of sheer curiosity I go onto Niall's profile to check what he's said about the subject since this morning. Nothing that even remotely defends our lack of a relationship sits upon his profile. The replies to his last few tweets are filled to the brim with nosiness and stupid questions, horrendous spelling and repeatedly retweeted images. I tap on one just to see what people are posting.
I feel as though I am going to throw up when one of the images of us at the concert has been edited. Instead of my profile, the face of Chucky, the terrifying doll from the classic horror movie, is staring menacingly away from the photo.
Carrot Top, a dementor, a piece of chicken. My face has been replaced with countless different insulting images. I don't know why I keep scrolling through the photos but I can't seem to look away.
I continuously tap on posts and stare at the pictures. My eyes begin to water up from the hatred that this fandom has towards me. Then I see another edited picture of me and smile. Instead of some annoying image, Ed Sheeran's head is plastered onto my face. A kind girl added a caption along with the picture.
"To Niall and his princess: Don't worry boys. Your secret is safe with us." -HairStylez.
My tears begin to dry up as I tap on the girl's username. On her page are countless retweets of pictures. I tap each and every one of them. My heart lifts as I realize that these Twitter users are nice and supportive, even though there's no need to be. Even under a rumor, they respect Niall's decisions. They'll be there to keep his real girlfriend grounded, whoever she turns out to be.
I finish up my pasta and head back into my fortress of solitude and shut the door. Turn the light off.
Why do I do this to myself?
Leaning back to gain momentum, I run towards my bed. I leap forward and aim for the soft pillows chaotically strewn across the mattress and land with a quiet puff of the pillows.
I pull my laptop from my bedside table and turn it on. I know my day seems pretty boring, but I like to spend my breaks from school relatively alone, since during the school year I'm constantly surrounded by people. I use my breaks as a time to recharge and rejuvenate and I do so by avoiding conversing with peers as much as possible.
On my homepage I look through my bookmarks and boringly decide to start at Twitter as an initial web-browsing spot, even though I was just there and I didn't like most of what I saw. When I log in, I notice the little tab at the top that says "Connect" has a blue light underneath it, indicating that someone involved my account in some way into their lives. I click on it, bracing myself.
Shit. I have over three thousand new followers. Why now? Why is it suddenly so appealing to follow me? I don't post anything and I've barely told anyone I know about my account.
I resist the urge to smack myself when I realize why I'm being followed. I scroll down my interactions to see if I'm right and, right where I expect it to be are three tweets from Niall
"Guyss that girl in the video isnt my gf she's a friend I met in a lift @Fleedo228" -@NiallOfficial.
"I was just teasing her is all. stop the hate on @Fleedo228 heh im clever" -@NiallOfficial.
"Here's a pic to prove we met in the lift @Fleedo228 please Erin don't kill me :)" -@NiallOfficial.
No promises, Mr. Horan. None at all.
~~~~~~~~~~~
At one-ish I check Twitter again to see what's changed. Five thousand more curious fans have followed my account and plenty of questions are being asked. I don't understand why they're outsourcing their curiosity to me. Wouldn't Niall be a much more credible source of information? It baffles me that so many of them won't believe him that they would ask a completely new person for the truth.
I find the answer to my wonderment in a tweet from some girl with Louis as her icon.
"@Fleedo228 ik you prolly think we're weird for asking you but Managements always making the boys deny stuff so we're asking you" -@payneinmybum.
So the fans think Management is behind all of this. Why would Management want to squash one of the boys "relationships"? It doesn't make any sense at all. And why in the world would Niall tag me?
I go to Niall's profile and begin writing him multiple direct messages.
"Why did you tell everyone my Twitter? They're asking me so many questions and I don't know what to say that they don't already know." -@Fleedo228.
"They all think your management is trying to cover it up and they won't take your "No" for an answer." -@Fleedo228.
"Niall please help me. I don't like what a lot of them are saying." -@Fleedo228.
I send each of them without hesitation, unsure if he'll actually receive them. To my surprise, I get a reply back almost immediately.
"We have a concert tonight in MSG. I want you to come backstage and we'll try and figure this out." -@NiallOfficial.
I blink. Well that escalated quickly. Is he allowed to do that? Why do we have to talk in person? And how would he get the tickets to me before tonight? And will I have to be alone in the audience? Will my mom even be willing to drive me there.
So many questions to ask, so little character limit.
I start with the most important one.
"Why do we have to actually meet up? Can't I like call you or something?" -@Fleedo228.
"what? You don't like me? You scared to be around old famous Niall?" -@NiallOfficial.
"No... I just don't see how you can get the tickets to me before... 8, is it? And I don't think my mom can drive me." -@Fleedo228.
"That's easy to fix. Gimme a sec I'll be back in a few" -@NiallOfficial.
I sit there awkwardly just staring at the screen. If he does somehow manage to find an simple way to fix both those problems, I still don't want to watch the concert by myself. That'd probably be the most uncomfortable experience of my life.
I look back at my computer and see Niall's response.
"Be ready at 7. Jerry's comin to pick u up." -@NiallOfficial.
"Who's Jerry?" -@Fleedo228.
"Also can I bring someone with me?" -@Fleedo228
"He's part of our management and yeah you can bring one person." -@NiallOfficial.
"Alright... thanks. Wait which row will I be in?" -Fleedo228.
"fifth. Section 1. I won't sing to you, promise." -NiallOfficial.
"Alright I gotta go ask my mom. BRB" -Fleedo228.
I spring out of bed and whip the door open dramatically. My sister, whose room as adjacent to mine, happens to be walking out of her room synonymously with my exit. The slamming of the door startles her and she squeals, dropping the lollipop she had been sucking on.
"Darnit," Katie mopes. After saying this, she covers her mouth, her eyes becoming wide as dinner plates. "Oh, no! I said the 'D-word'! Please don't tell Mom!"
I smirk at her and ruffle her peachy hair. "I'm sure she won't mind. But I need you to help me convince her about something."
"What is it?" Katie bends down to pick up her lollipop from the wooden floor. After examining it for a couple seconds, she shamelessly resumes eating her sugary treat, the lollipop sitting there happily between her smiling teeth.
"I got two more tickets to a One Direction concert tonight and I want her to let me go," I whisper. "If you can help me make her say 'Yes', I'll bring you with me to the concert."
The lollipop drops out of her mouth, hitting the floor with a crack and splitting into pieces. Katie doesn't pay it any attention. "More tickets? How do you keep getting them? You just went last night! And I can come? Seriously?"
I nod, smiling down at her.
Katie takes a big breath, closes her eyes and pauses.
"MOOOOOOOOOOOM!" she yells as she runs to our mother's room. "CAN ERIN AND I GO TO A CONCERT TONIGHT?"
I smirk and roll my eyes playfully, lightly pushing her to the side and knocking on Mom's door.
"Mom, can we come in?" I ask, trying to sound as polite as possible in the hopes of it improving my chances of going. When I hear her grunt of a welcome, I open the door and Katie and I walk in.
I end up explaining the entire situation to my mom. She's understanding and chill about it, like she is about most things, and she doesn't even get mad at me for keeping it to myself. Katie absolutely flips when I tell her I actually know Niall Horan. Since I've showed her their videos, she's said he's her second favorite, only beaten by Louis.
My mom gives me permission to go but when I explain how I plan to get there, she just shakes her head.
"I'm not giving you and Katie over to some stranger. I'll drive you there." And with that, Katie and I leave the room.
My sister jumps up and down, full of excitement. "CONCERT! YES!" she runs around chanting some weird rhyme.
"Okay, Katie," I say, stopping her in her tracks. "It's 1:30. Will you be all ready by seven?"
She nods rapidly and skips off into her room. I chuckle. What a silly kid. I also enter my room and start getting ready.
The pre-concert preparation and drive to the park where One Direction is performing goes by very quickly. After finding out I could go, I messaged Niall and he said that when I go to the ticket man in front of the park, I just tell him I'm Erin Jeffers and he'll let Katie and I through. Then after the concert, I will be retrieved by another guard and brought backstage.
My mom isn't comfortable with Katie meeting all of them without her mother with her, so I asked Niall if she could come backstage with us. He said she could, so we're all going to meet the whole band.
I straightened my hair for the concert. Not because it was bothering me, but because it will be harder for people to recognize me with this hair. Also I look pretty damn good when my curls aren't all over the place.
The ticket man graciously accepts us into the concert and we sit down in our rightful chairs, Katie almost exploding with excitement. Our mom plans on waiting in the parking lot until I call her and then she will go up to the ticket man again and he will bring her backstage.
This should be a wonderful night.
If it's not, hey: it's free.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Note from the Person Who Wrote What You Just Read
Okay. Since this is at the end of the chapter, I have no shame in writing an obnoxiously long Author's Note because I know it's not in anybody's way and it's the reader's choice to peruse my announcements. Also I will be leaving this note here for the rest of the story (apart from point 4, which will be removed once I've reached a decision).
There is a video in the sidebar thingymabobber. If you're really awesome, you'll watch the whole thing, find AmazingPhil hilarious, then fall in love with him and watch everything he's every done. If you're a bit less cool, you can go to 1:58 for the 1D related part. If you're not cool at all, then you wouldn't be reading the author's note. Only cool people read bolded words.
The dreaded torture chamber that is referred to by common folk as "high school" shall be starting again for me in about a week. Consequently, I will be posting even less often than I do already.
Excuse time, excuse time (there's a jingle to that. Make up your own): I haven't been updating often because I suffer from severe procrastination and writer's block. I've actually been diagnosed by multiple experts as a "Lazy Unmotivated Waste of Electrons". Also I had a math packet and essay about "My Definition of Art" to do which I've been procrastinating about this entire summer. I know I make up for the lack of promptness with length of chapters. I hope I also make up for it with quality of content.
Remember to head over to my profile and follow me on my various social media accounts. I even went so far as to getting a kik. Message me or something. It could possibly be the best decision of your young life.
Please spread this story around, I beg of thee. It would really help me out. Friendship always wins.
Thank you for dealing with my excessive awkwardness and lazy tendencies. If I could give you all a hug, I wouldn't. You might smell weird, and we can't have that.