I Wish.
The Words Get Trapped
Am I excited?
Yeah, I guess I am.
Maybe not as excited as I should be, but still excited.
I mean, I could probably get their autographs and sell them online for about a million dollars.
I'm well aware of the fact that about half of the worlds female population would give an arm and a leg and god knows what else for this opportunity, and they would probably take my arm and leg and god knows what else because I'm the one who got the opportunity.
"OK darling...here we are!" My mum rudely cuts across my day dreaming, turning to face me from the drivers seat. "Make sure you get their autographs for me! Especially that fit Indian,"
I roll my eyes, "Mum, he's Arabian."
"Oh, OK...I don't care he's still fit."
I sigh loudly, ruining the effect slightly by letting a smile slip onto my lips. "Sure, mum..." I mumble as I untangled myself from my seatbelt, "I'll see you in an hour?"
Mum nods and kisses me on the cheek before I pop open the car door, looking like she wished she could take my place.
I step out into the open air, hit by the sweet, sweet odour of sweaty directioners. Wrinkling my nose and praying to God none of them recognised me, I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder and set out towards a brightly vested helpful looking person.
"Uh...hi...I'm Sophia? And um..." I searched through my bag and pulled out the piece of paper I had won via a radio competition. Mr Helpful took it, swiped it, and surprisingly I made it inside the large, guarded building without losing any limbs.
"Just down the hall, first door on your left." He told me, before mumbling into a microphone gadget.
"Uh, thanks," I smiled back, but I don't think he could even hear me over the crowd.
I could hear them talking before I reached the door. Now that I was deeper into the building, the un-nerving screams where less prominent and suddenly my adrenaline was kicking in. What is I got sweaty before I even got there, and then had to shake their hands? What if I got all nervous and couldn't speak?
Maybe I could just turn back now. I'm not even a very big One Direction fan. I could give the ticket to my mum. Or throw it into the crowd.
My fist lifted itself upwards, defying my brain and knocking loudly.
I tried to compose my face, fix my hair and clear my throat, but half way through the door opened and I nearly choked on my tongue.
"Hi," he said, with dimples to die for. "I'm Harry."
Yeah, I guess I am.
Maybe not as excited as I should be, but still excited.
I mean, I could probably get their autographs and sell them online for about a million dollars.
I'm well aware of the fact that about half of the worlds female population would give an arm and a leg and god knows what else for this opportunity, and they would probably take my arm and leg and god knows what else because I'm the one who got the opportunity.
"OK darling...here we are!" My mum rudely cuts across my day dreaming, turning to face me from the drivers seat. "Make sure you get their autographs for me! Especially that fit Indian,"
I roll my eyes, "Mum, he's Arabian."
"Oh, OK...I don't care he's still fit."
I sigh loudly, ruining the effect slightly by letting a smile slip onto my lips. "Sure, mum..." I mumble as I untangled myself from my seatbelt, "I'll see you in an hour?"
Mum nods and kisses me on the cheek before I pop open the car door, looking like she wished she could take my place.
I step out into the open air, hit by the sweet, sweet odour of sweaty directioners. Wrinkling my nose and praying to God none of them recognised me, I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder and set out towards a brightly vested helpful looking person.
"Uh...hi...I'm Sophia? And um..." I searched through my bag and pulled out the piece of paper I had won via a radio competition. Mr Helpful took it, swiped it, and surprisingly I made it inside the large, guarded building without losing any limbs.
"Just down the hall, first door on your left." He told me, before mumbling into a microphone gadget.
"Uh, thanks," I smiled back, but I don't think he could even hear me over the crowd.
I could hear them talking before I reached the door. Now that I was deeper into the building, the un-nerving screams where less prominent and suddenly my adrenaline was kicking in. What is I got sweaty before I even got there, and then had to shake their hands? What if I got all nervous and couldn't speak?
Maybe I could just turn back now. I'm not even a very big One Direction fan. I could give the ticket to my mum. Or throw it into the crowd.
My fist lifted itself upwards, defying my brain and knocking loudly.
I tried to compose my face, fix my hair and clear my throat, but half way through the door opened and I nearly choked on my tongue.
"Hi," he said, with dimples to die for. "I'm Harry."
♠ ♠ ♠
Oh this is a terrible chapter. So sorry.