Out of the Sky

Since Liam told me that I'd be with him on his group's next tour, it seemed like I met twenty new faces a day. Endless members of management, the styling team I'd be working with, the production crew, the drivers, and every other person that it took to make each show happen. It was exhausting trying to recall everyone's names, so I stuck to calling people sir or ma'am until further notice.

Every day before the tour began I was reminded of my responsibilities:

1. Wake up, get ready
2. Gather supplies
3. Set up supplies in designated room
(this changed depending on each arena)
4. Gather the boys one at a time
(all of them at once is too much work)
5. Assist Lou Teasdale in make-up and hair
6. Be ready downstage at all times while the boys are onstage
7. Clear up supplies
(double check that you have everything)
8. Load up the bus and leave

After just a few days, the routine was submitted to memory even though I hadn't even run through it yet. Lou Teasdale was who talked to me most, telling me about each boy's specific make-up. Niall needed the finer foundation for his sensitive skin, Harry always needed extra coverage on his forehead, Liam required powder because he had oily skin, etc. I hadn't even met the boys I'd be catering to, but I knew everything about their skin and hair. Harry required a trim every two weeks, Louis needed extra hairspray to keep his hair lifted, and so on.

Basically, the number one rule when doing their hair was: do what they wanted, but make sure it looked good. In all the years that I'd seen One Direction on magazines or on television, their hair always seemed to be flawless, so I knew I'd have to be extra careful not to mess that part of their image up. As someone who had very little experience in the cosmetology field, I was practically shaking in my boots at the heap of responsibility put upon me, even as just a small assistant.

“I'll be with you for the first few weeks,” Lou told me, flipping her long hair over her shoulder as she handed me yet another notebook filled with make-up and hair tips for each boy. “But as time goes on, you'll be expected to be able to do most of this on your own while I'm doing other things, alright?”

I nodded, taking the notebook and putting in my bag alongside the three other ones she'd given me. She finished her coffee and threw it in the trashcan on the sidewalk, walking alongside the large bus that we'd be sharing with other members of the gargantuan crew. She told me that bus assignments didn't even matter due to the fact that most everyone went on whichever bus they preferred that night.

“Don't be worried, love,” Lou grinned at me as she stood at the doorway of the large vehicle. “This job is an absolute dream.”

“You bet it is!” I heard Liam yell from behind me, and I quickly turned at his voice, a large smile on my face.

He ran to me and wrapped me in a tight hug, spinning me before putting me back on the ground. It was still unreal seeing him so often after years of hardly seeing one another. Half the time it felt like a dream, being back in my best friend's life in the most exciting way possible, but other times it felt like it always had -completely comfortable and familiar.

Liam was my anchor. He kept me stuck on this earth when all I wanted to do was drift away.

“How're you?” I asked him as he pulled away from the hug.

Liam beamed at me, his brown eyes looking into my own. “I'm just fantastic, Reagan Sue Parker.”

“Oh, you're using full names, you really must be excited,” I said with a laugh, adjusting my bag over my shoulder and tucking a strand of my dark hair behind my ear.

Liam rolled his eyes at me and elbowed me playfully. “Of course I'm excited. It's the first day of the tour! Well... almost. Tomorrow is, but tonight we'll all be driving to the first city, and-”

“I get it, Liam,” I told him, cutting off his long-winded explanation. “I don't know why I'm so nervous...”

“Don't be,” Liam reassured me, patting me on the back lightly. “You know you never give up.”

“Yeah, I know,” I replied cheekily, shrugging my shoulders. “But I still worry.”

“I know what'll help,” Lou called from the doorway of the bus, peeking out at Liam and I. She smiled at me and nodded towards one of the many other buses on the open lot. “Actually meeting the boys. Go introduce her, Liam!”

“Great idea, Lou,” Liam nodded in agreement, grabbing my arm and walking me over to his bus.

Instantly I felt my stomach twist in knots at the thought of meeting the other boys. I had spoken with one or two of them before, but it was only briefly when one of them answered Liam's phone for him, or walked by when we were on skype. When Liam had tried to get us all to meet up in the past, something always happened, whether it was one of us getting busy or me getting called into work. Several different times he'd invited me to events: out to one of their shows, access to their movie premiere in London, but I always had to decline, a part of me just not being ready for such high energy surroundings.

Honestly, if it weren't for the fact that I was essentially homeless, then I didn't know that I'd even accept the offer to come along on this tour.

I wasn't sure why I was nervous to meet the boys, though. It was just like they were all separate entities, not even human even though I very well knew that they were. Liam spoke of them with such charisma that they always seemed more like characters from his favorite book to me rather than his rowdy band mates.

Liam opened the door to their bus and hopped on, me following closely behind him.

I could hear two of the boys arguing over socks of all things as I walked up the steps and onto the bus, looking at each of them.

“Lads,” Liam called out, and the two bickering ones paused to look at him. “I want you to meet my friend, Reagan Parker.”

“So this is the famous Reagan we hear so much about!” called out the Irish one that I recognized as Niall. He walked over to me with a grin, his hand held out. “I'm Niall.”

“She knows your name, mate,” Liam snickered as I shook Niall's hand.

“Yeah, but the introduction doesn't feel proper unless I say it,” Niall spit his tongue out at Liam before moving back to sit down on the small leather couch along the bus wall.

“What's my name?” asked Harry jokingly, his slow voice filling the air.

“Harry,” I answered with a laugh.

The one I recognized as Louis came from the back, socks in his hands. “Actually, that's me,” Louis said in a horrible imitation of his friend's voice. “I'm Haaaarry Styyyyles.”

“I don't even sound like that,” Harry scoffed, turning his attention to the phone in his hand.

“Good to meet you, Reagan,” said Zayn, as he snatched the socks from Louis. “What did I tell ya, mate? An hour into this tour and ya already got a hold on my socks!”

“Those are completely mine!” Louis snapped back, jumping onto Zayn and tackling him to the ground.

Liam looked at me and sighed. “Ignore them. I should've had you meet them one at a time. They're quite... a ruckus on the first night.”

“Well the lady can sit by me and meet me one-on-one, I don't mind,” said Niall, looking up from the magazine he was flipping through and scooting over on the couch. He patted the cushion next to him and winked at me.

“Don't you start with that winking, Niall,” Liam warned before turning back to me. “You can hang around on here tonight if you like, I promise they'll calm-”

“-I'm going to bite your ear off, Zayn, if you don't let go of my damn sock!”

“Maybe it's best if I let you guys be tonight,” I told Liam as I watched Louis and Zayn fight over the sock, although both of them were almost in tears due to laughter.

“Nonsense!” Harry said, looking up from his phone. “We've been around each other for weeks because of tour rehearsals, it's nice to see a new face.”

“Yeah, stay,” Niall agreed, once again patting the spot next to him. “You can give me some beauty tips... You are like a make-up artist, aren't you?”

“...Kind of?” I glanced at Liam who was nodding in response to Niall's question, but seeing as I really had no clue what I was doing, it didn't seem fair to say that I was one. Moving to sit next to the blonde, I saved room next to me for Liam.

“She's Lou's assistant,” Liam explained to Niall, snatching the magazine out of his hand and skimming through it himself.

“Oy! I was readin' that!”

From his position on the ground, Louis looked up and grinned. “I got a personal assistant? Well, it's about time the most integral member got-”

“-The other Lou, you arse,” Zayn cursed, shoving the distracted boy off of him and moving to back of the bus, out of sight.

Louis frowned, letting out a mockingly dramatic sob as he planted his face against the floor. I felt myself shaking with laughter at him as he pretended to cry like a small child, loud and obnoxiously, to which the other boys just ignored.

“You get used to it,” Niall told me, now that he no longer had the magazine to keep him occupied.

“I think he's funny,” I responded, watching as Louis sat up and sniffled, wiping his blue eyes.

“I think he's a real wanker,” Harry muttered, kicking out his long leg and hitting the boy with the tip of his old boot.

Louis glared, whacking at Harry's foot and grimacing. “A wanker, Harry? Really?”

“I think he's beautiful,” Niall cooed in a feminine voice, obviously impersonating a young girl. He batted his eye lashes and acted like he was flipping long hair over his shoulder.

“What do you think, Liam?” Louis asked, getting to his feet just to walk over to the still-reading man, plopping onto his lap.

As soon as Louis got closer to me, I could smell his scent: laundry detergent and deodorant. Something about the mixture was intoxicating, and I subtly moved a little closer to the two boys. He was genuinely attractive, Louis was. I found myself watching him the most out of all the boys. Perhaps it was just because his personality demanded the extra attention, but even if he was more relaxed like Harry was across from me, surely I'd feel the same way.

“I think that you're hurting my leg,” Liam told him, attempting to get more comfortable under his weight.

“Psh,” Louis rolled his eyes and stood up, walking to the back where Zayn had gone. “You better not be stealing more of my things, lad!”

I heard Zayn state that he was on the phone, his voice partially annoyed. Louis didn't return, however, and things grew surprisingly silent, other than the murmured voice of Zayn on the phone. I looked across from me to see Harry leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed and arms crossed. Niall was scrolling through twitter on his phone, heavily absorbed in his mentions section. Liam was still looking through the magazine, every now and then nudging me to ask if he would look good in a certain shirt.

Taking the most-likely rare opportunity to myself, I pulled out one of the notebooks that Lou had made for me and began reading it, filling my brain with knowledge about hair products and different types of concealers. If I was being honest with myself, I knew I would be rubbish at this job. Hand me a paintbrush and I can create a large-scale masterpiece, but hand me a make-up sponge and I'll make someone look like they've been attacked by bronzer.

The last time I wore make-up myself was at Dad's funeral, although most of it had been cried off into Liam's chest. After that day I just didn't really have any drive to make myself appear nice anymore. Half of the time it was challenge to even leave my apartment. My body was just constantly exhausted, probably due to the fact that it had to lug around my heavy heart.

“Ray, you alright?” Liam whispered to me, placing his hand on my shoulder.

Liam knew my every thought, it was practically instinct to him to sense when I wasn't feeling my greatest which, let's face it, was most of the time. My roommate used to nag me with questions when we fought, such as she didn't understand how anyone could possibly tolerate me for so long when I was such a downer, and my mind always flashed to Liam because he was the only person to stick around through my depression.

“What happened to the girl I knew?” my roommate would ask, her green eyes looking at me miserably. “You were so happy when we met.”

Turning to Liam, I just nodded, even though he probably knew I was letting my thoughts get the best of me again. He gave me the look that said talk to me, and stood up, moving to the back of the bus. Sighing, I followed him, moving past a small entertainment area where Louis was sitting next to Zayn (who was still on his phone). Through another small entryway were the bunks, each one already personalized with memorabilia belonging to each boy. I recognized Liam's instantly, seeing a few pictures of his family taped up, one of his dog Loki, and one of me and him, his arm slung around my shoulders and dopey grins on our young faces.

He climbed up onto the bunk and rolled to the extreme edge, laying down. I went in after him, resting beside him after tugging the small curtain closed, sealing us in darkness. After my eyes adjusted I saw Liam looking up at the ceiling of the small bunk, waiting for me to say the first words.

“I'm just scared, Liam,” I whispered, twiddling my thumbs as I continued watching him. “I don't know how I can do this when I can hardly even force myself out of bed each morning.”

“Are you still thinking about them?”

Biting my lip, I just gave a quiet yes, knowing he was referring to my parents. They consumed almost every thought I had, whether it was remorse over my father or suppressed anger towards my mother.

“I did this for you, because I want you to start thinking about yourself,” Liam said slowly, his voice low and quiet. He seemed to be picking each word he spoke carefully, his eyes looking at the photos he had up on the wall. “I know you spend too much time alone in your flat because you're too busy thinking about them to go out and live.”

“I just don't think I'm ready yet.”

“That's why I'm pushing you, Reagan,” Liam's eyes met mine now and I could practically swim in the concern they held. It was silent between us for a long time before he spoke again, still careful. “I can't let you destroy yourself over what could've been. Make the best of your life now and focus on the path in front you instead of what's passed.”

“You're right,” I replied, because there was no way I could deny it. I was still young, only twenty, and there was an entire lifetime ahead of me that I never even focused on.

There was this person who I wanted to be terribly. She was beaming, charming, hilarious. She did her make-up and hair and wore clothes that weren't just old jeans and a baggy shirt. She went to parties and had lots of friends and people who loved her. I knew I could be her so easily if I tried, but I didn't know how. Mentally, I was stuck.. my mind just kept hitting roadblock after roadblock, each of them being laid down by my parents.

In all of my spite, I blamed them.

“Promise me you'll stay until the very last show, Ray.”

“I promise.”