Emotional Vacancy

“But I think this is only testament to how hard you’ve been working over the last year and a half because you’re about to go on tour with one of the hottest boy bands in the world,” the interviewer exclaimed, beaming at the audience, clapping her hands excitedly before turning her attention back to me and my best friend/band mate, Sage. “Seriously, how does it feel knowing you’re going on tour with One Direction?”

I laughed lightly, “It’s surreal. I mean, we didn’t even think they knew who we were up until we put Ascending out. I think it was Niall that tweeted about the album and then all of a sudden we were getting a phone call about touring with them for the 2014 Stadium tour.”

“It feels great though. They look like a fun group of guys on tour,” Sage added, crossing her leather-legging clad legs.

“Now, have you met these guys yet?”

“Well, technically yes. I mean, we saw them a month ago at an awards show. I can’t say it was the best first meeting I’ve ever had, but it was the first and only time we’ve actually met with them.”

The interviewer’s eyes bugged a bit, “Oh? Wasn’t the best you say?”

I immediately stepped in, “Yeah, I mean, they were on par. Very nice, funny all that jazz it was really on our end,” Sage’s eyes cut to me, “or really more my end.”

”Girls, before you take another celebratory shot, I’ve got some people you need to meet,” our manager Kevin said, placing a hand on both of our shoulders.

I groaned, looking at my barely-touched whiskey coke and already imagining what it would taste like. I was so close, yet so far. Why was I so far?

“If it’s not Michael Jackson who can then give us his blessing to cover the entirety of Thriller I’m not interested,” Sage commented, turning around to look at Kevin.

I, on the other hand, decided that I needed to make a vital decision: to shotgun or not to shotgun. That was the question.

“Very funny Sage, but it’s actually the boys you’ll be practically living with next year. They want to at least meet you two in the flesh,” Kevin said.

I was still looking at my glass of whiskey coke, wondering if it would be disrespectful to meet my new co-workers with hard liquor in my hand. Kevin had this rule of thumb about these situations: if you wouldn’t do it in front of, around or at your old employer, don’t do it here. Of course that was a common sense approach, but we’re at an after-party for an awards show, did common sense rules apply here? I mean, I’m going home with a new iTouch because of the grab bags from the people throwing the party tonight.

“So you two come on, leave the drinks, and let’s go pay them a visit yeah?”

I groaned, quickly shotgunning my drink. This was the only way I wouldn’t have to order another after we finished meeting “our new co-workers”.

Letting the whiskey smoothly run down my throat, leaving a trail of a warm buzzing feeling behind in it’s wake, I turned around, somewhat tripping over my heels. On a side note, I’m not sure why I decided to wear them. They were six-inch stilettos, bringing me to the staggering 5’7”, but in all honesty, who needed to be that tall? But they sure made me legs look sexy, at least that’s what our stylist Shaun said, and besides, they were a really sexy pair of shoes.

Straightening up, I looked over at Sage who raised an eyebrow in question.

“I’m fine. I just needed to finish that drink. There’s no way I’m just setting that down so someone can sweep behind me and take it…or drug it.”

Sage laughed and rolled her eyes before looking back at Kevin, “Lead the way sir.”

I slowly and very attentively took my steps, following a graceful Sage who had the sense enough to wear a heel that had more support than what I was getting. But with the first step I took, I could start feeling the effect of the alcohol in my system. Shotgunning was probably a bad idea, but it was a decision that was made and now I couldn’t take it back. Focusing on my footing, I tried my hardest not to look like the alcohol was inhibiting my ability to be the master of gravity. It seemed like we were journeying from The Shire to the Misty Mountains for how long it took us to get to the other side of the large club, fighting our way through hoards of people to a very exclusive area. It was sparsely decorated, a table and a wrap-around couch that protruded from the wall. It looked nice enough. Subtle lighting from ahead was barely lighting the dark corner as my eyes adjusted from being blinded by a flash from someone taking a picture on their phone beside us.

Kevin gave a cough and loudly called out to the small crowd of people gathered in this roped off, exclusive area.

“Hey guys, I brought ‘em over,” he said, his hand at the small of both of our backs and pushing us ahead of him slightly.

I honestly should’ve known who he was talking about when he said co-workers, but that still didn’t stop me from being slightly confused and surprised when the first face I recognized was the face of Niall Horan.

Oh…those co-workers.

Niall was the first one over. He told the guard to help let the two of us through, but the guard was unwilling to break the barricade they had up. So instead of making both of our lives easier, we had to climb over metal barricade. Without any assistance, Sage easily climbed over the barricade, throwing one leg over and then the other. Luckily, she was the one wearing pants, so it wasn’t too bad for her. But when it was my turn, I found myself staring at the barricade a moment trying to work this out in my head. I was wearing a dress. Though it was slightly longer than a normal dress, it was form fitting and the material wasn’t one that gave much. Stumbling a bit, I braced myself against the top bar, my hands gripping it hard as I turned my body to face the left wall, making Sage and the guys of One Direction to my right. Slowly, I bent forward so that I was bending at my waist, but when I tried to lift my leg and it wouldn’t go very far, I decided that plan was out.

There was only one thought running through my mind: I look drunk. I looked absolutely, undoubtedly drunk, no matter that I wasn’t really drunk. This had a lot to do with my lack of problem-solving skills and my lack of coordination. And that’s when inspiration struck.

I backed up from the barricade just enough, and with a few fast steps, I jumped, my butt landing on top of the bar. It would’ve been perfect and extremely picturesque had my momentum not continued on. This forward momentum sent me forward, but thankfully, I was able to catch myself and I only managed to stumble forward and into someone’s abdomen. I quickly straightened up, smiling wildly up at everybody.

“Hi,” I mumble out breathlessly.

I tried to avoid eye contact with the guy that was standing just a few feet ahead of me.

“Sorry about her, sometimes gravity doesn’t always agree with her. Hi, I’m Sage and this is Martie and we make up Neon Owl. Nice to finally meet y’all in the flesh,” Sage said, elbowing me in the side.

When the Earth stopped spinning, I gave a bigger smile to the rest of them as they began to introduce themselves.

“Well, a bit of a lie I guess. We’d met Niall quite early on, but a month ago we met the entire group,” Sage corrected, breaking me from my quick trip down memory lane.

I smiled and nodded.

“Wait, okay, dually noted Sage. But did you say Martie was drunk when meeting them?”

I blushed a bit. “Not technically drunk, just a bit lit, or minutely intoxicated.”

The interviewer threw her head back, laughing throatily at me. I would too. I was a complete mess if I was being quite honest with myself. That night I bonded quite well with Niall over discussing different types of whiskey and I somewhat remember talking to Liam about the 401k system of retirement in America—don’t ask me why, I’m sure he started it, and if legend has it, I began to randomly sing “I Knew You Were Trouble” making the whole roped off area feel a bit awkward.

“But enough to make Harry feel uncomfortable and Zayn carry you to the taxi.”

“I sent them a fruit basket,” I said in defense.

The interviewer laughed and then turned to Sage, “And about this night, a photo was released of you kissing Niall on the cheek. Did something ignite between you?”

Sage laughed lightly and looked at me, “I knew this was going to be a question.” She looked back at the interviewer who was waiting on bated breath, probably for a juicy exclusive to bring back to her producers. “That’s nothing special, I kiss everybody on the cheek when I leave. Watch, I’ll do it with you too.”

“But there’s only a picture of you and Niall,” she persisted, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Yeah, well, I gave them all a kiss on the cheek, so…I don’t know to say to that.”

“Fair enough. Now this will be your first tour ever. What are you guys doing to get ready for this UK and European tour with them?”

“Drinking a lot of tea,” I answered quickly, but then as soon as the interviewer the audience burst into laughter, I sighed, mentally hitting myself in the face. What? I’m about to go on tour in the UK and I’m training myself by drinking tons of tea? I’m not even drunk and I’m saying stupid shit.

“We’re also trying to think of things we absolutely need to pack and things that can be left. That’s a really hard thing to do.”

Two hours later we were on our way back to the apartment to continue packing. We had one more day in Los Angeles before we had to fly out to Columbia and meet up for a quick rehearsal and also so we could get acclimated. That was the big thing that Kevin kept reiterating over and over.

By the time we got home, I figured that since I was more than three quarters of the way through my packing that I could afford to spend some time throwing away food in the refrigerator. It was another big bullet point on Kevin’s list for us to complete before tomorrow afternoon. As I began dumping containers of food into a huge, black trash bag, Sage came in, looking a bit puzzled.

“Throwing away food?”

“Yeah, can’t let it go bad,” I said, tossing a container of yogurt into the trash bag below.

“So…I just got this text.”

I hummed a response, letting her know I was still listening and the fact that half my body was in the fridge was no indication that I wasn’t listening.

“It’s from Niall. Apparently he’s already seen the interview. He said ‘So our kiss wasn’t special’…what am I supposed to say to that?”

After fishing out a few fruits and vegetables buried in the back of the fridge, I emerged victorious, throwing them into the trash bag and looking at her, shrugging. “Tell him Kevin made you say it.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Then tell him you didn’t want to call attention to whatever relationship you two might have. Although, I’d chose those words lightly, he seems kind of sensitive and if said wrong, it could sound like you want a relationship, but only on the DL.”

“You’re awfully supportive Martie,” Sage said, rolling her eyes.

“And an optimist at heart, you know,” I said nodding as I dove back into fridge, emerging with more food.

I guess if there was one distinct difference between Sage and I besides the physical, it was probably our philosophy on romance. She wasn’t a cheesy romantic, but she wasn’t completely skeptical either. I wasn’t completely skeptical, but I doubted I’d find it in this lifetime. I’ve been around for twenty-two years and if love was going to come to me, I think it’d have happened by now.

Now, that doesn’t mean I didn’t date. I’d dated a bit over the last couple of years, not to mention ended quite a few relationships too. But at the moment I was on a boy-free kick. I was going to stay single for the next year and just enjoy my life for once. Ever since I entered the dating game, I hadn’t really stopped, jumping from one relationship to the next, but I owed it to myself to be single for a while.

That was until I started this tour with One Direction, and found myself in a complicated, convoluted web of emotions with someone who I had been warned about from the start: the chronic-relationship starter himself, Harry Styles.