Picture Perfect

An hour and a couple hundred miles after getting on the plane later, I was at the airport waiting for the limo that was to pick me and the band up. I hadn't seen any paparazzi around the perimeter of the airport yet, so I assumed the five world famous boys weren't due for a while. A sleek black limousine with tinted windows pulled up and a chubby man stepped out of the driver’s seat. In his hands was a sign with my name, Parker Cannon, written neatly in sharpie. I slowly but surely preceded to the car. "Hello! I'm Parker." Without uttering a single word, he took the two incredibly heavy suitcases from my hand and stowed them away in the trunk - along with a bunch of other brightly colored suitcases. I assumed that they were already in the limo.

"Thank you very much-" I paused to look at his name tag, "Patrick! I could've done that myself."

"It was my pleasure, ma'am," his accent was heavy and made him seem Italian. He led me to a door on the left side of the vehicle and pried it open, closing it when I was fully in the car.

Once safely in the interior of the wide limo which had began pulling away from the curb, I saw five boys gawking at me - probably from the fact that their photographer was a girl who seemed their age. The curly haired boy whispered something to stripped shirt boy, and the one with braces spoke softly to the gorgeous boy with gelled hair - neither of which spoke up for the group. The only one to utter something that wasn't inaudible was the cute one with the flatter curly hair.

"I'm Liam," he extended his hand toward mine and I politely returned the gesture. His handshake was firm. We both pulled away and he pointed to Curly, the closest boy to him. "That's Harry." His finger then extended its way toward Stripped Shirt. "Louis." Then toward Braces. "Niall." And finally Hair. "Zayn."

"Well, hello then, Liam, Harry, Louis, Niall, and Zayn! I'm Parker and I guess I'll be your photographer on this tour." The boys were still gawking toward me. "Do I have something in my teeth?!" Liam and I chuckled lightly.

"Haha, excuse them. I guess they don't believe that a girl our age could've been chosen as our photographer for the tour." He lightly punched Harry, who shook before finally snapping out of it. Suddenly, like a domino effect, he lightly slapped Louis who then tapped Niall, and so on.

"Sorry about that, I'm Harry," he spoke softly and slowly.

"I know, Liam told me." I giggled. As my laughter died out, the car turned to an awkward silence and I took that as my opportunity to check my phone. I had one text from Jon back at the company reminding me the cell phone numbers of the boys, yet he forgot to mention whose number was which boys. "Hey, I have your guys' numbers just in case we get split up or whatever, but I've realized I don't know which is which. Wanna sort them out for me?" I tossed my phone to the boys seated across from me.

"Yeah, sure," Zayn said as he caught my phone first. A bunch of mumbles later, my phone was tossed back to me. "We saved ourselves in your phone and texted ourselves so we have your number," his accent was much thicker than both Harry and Liam's. I assumed he was from a different part of the UK.

"No fair! I was going to text you all pretending to be a crazed fan girl," chuckles rang from around the perimeter of the limo. My giggle joined their chuckles, resulting in Patrick rolling the window that separated the driver’s seat from the rest of the car.

“Could you please keep it down? I'm trying to concentrate on the roads."

"Sorry, Patrick! It was my fault. I'll keep them quiet from now on!" I nearly screamed out toward the window. The limo was particularly long.

Another awkward silence ensued before a voice I hadn't heard yet piped up. "So, how did you become a photographer?" It was Louis.

"When I was thirteen I went to my first general admission concert and right next to me, there was a girl taking pictures with a really huge and expensive looking camera. Before that, I'd already known I wanted a job in the music industry, but at that point I was certain I wanted to be a concert photographer - someone bands took on tour with them. So I went out of my way and saved up for a camera and started going to a lot of concerts," I paused for a breath before continuing, "and made my website to post up the best pictures I took at a particular show I went to. Then, my current boss found my website, tracked me down, and tried convincing me for two consecutive years to come work for them, so when I finished high school, I did. And, well, here I am." I looked at their faces and they all seemed interested in what I had to say.

"That's really cool," another voice I hadn't heard said - the only voice I hadn't heard yet. It belonged to Niall. It sounded different than all of the other boys' accents - I think he might've been Irish.

"Thanks, heh."

Once again, the window separating the two sections of the car rolled down. "You've arrived at your hotel. The limo is too big to fit in the back, so I'm afraid you're going to have to go through the front. Paul is at the door awaiting you. Don't worry about your bags; they'll be delivered to your rooms after the crowd dies down." By the sounds of it, that was a huge crowd. The all too familiar noise of the click camera's make filled the air.

"Ok, we got it. Thank you very much, Patrick." Zayn's velvety soft voice rang through the car. He turned back to us. "Let's do this! Wanna know why? Because we can do this," he exclaimed, giving the shortest pep talk I've ever listened in on. "Parker, don't pay any attention to the paps or the fans. Even if they ask something about you."

Without another word, the door was opened and the boys piled out on after the other; I followed closely behind. Screams among frilly girly shrieks among even more inaudible screams were being thrown out in the air. Other yells from paparazzi were more audible.

"Who is the girl?!"

"Is she a romantic interest?”

"Is she going on tour with you?"

"Who is that girl?"

Following Zayn's advice, I didn't pay the slight bit of attention to them as I happily walked, camera bags at hand, to the main entrance of the hotel. At the door were a few security guards whom I assumed were there to stop girls from getting into the hotel. Another man stood behind them waiting for the boys to come to him. As we approached the man, the boys greeted him. To be polite, I spoke a soft hello. Once fully inside the hotel, the man greeted Liam, Zayn, Louis, Niall, Harry and I. I learned his name was Paul.

“Follow me. We’re going to the conference room for a meeting,” Paul strictly told us. Liam nodded and started walking after him, the rest of the boys mimicking his movements.

“Hello boys, Parker, Paul,” a voice boomed towards us from the opposite corner of the lavish conference room. It took me aback to see all eyes on me, as well as the boys; Harry, Liam, Zayn, Niall and Louis were all being watched as we took our seats. “We’re here today to talk creative ideas and to propose something to the 6 of you. Parker, I’ve seen your work and it’s fab-u-lous!” I sheepishly smiled, muttering a thank you as my cheeks flushed a dark pink color. I was still flabbergasted when people told me they liked my work. “I can safely assume your work will be flawless with this tour. Jon told me you were one of the very best…”

The voice rambled on about my photography, what I was to and not to do while I’m on tour with One Direction – the whole deal. I constantly bobbed my head up and down. “And under no circumstances might you take gifts that the fans wish to give the boys. Paul is allowed to take them – as he checks them for safety. We wouldn’t want you to get hurt….”

I once again tuned out everything else they said – same rules for every tour – but kept nodding my head every once in a while. Another voice piped up from my left. “Ok, that’s it for today. Parker, here is your room key- you’re down the hall from the boys. Some days of the tour you might have to stay in the same suite as the boys, but I’m sure that’ll be fine. Convenient for when you have the mandatory bonding time we talked about.” Mandatory bonding time?! I shouldn’t have zoned out.