Emotional Vacancy

@Martie_theMoose: I think if I survive tonight’s concert with my nerves still in tact, I should be set for the rest of the tour

I don’t know how many shots we were into this game. Hell, I was sure that the warmness in my cheeks was growing by the round. We’d at least gone around once and after Liam’s lame round, it was finally my second turn. I sat and stared at everyone a moment before nodding my head, to no one in particular. “Never have I ever snogged a random person I barely met—like didn’t even know their name.”

I watched as Zayn picked up his shot glass, knocking it back, and so did Niall surprisingly, but it was Harry that I was staring at. He seemed to consider the statement a moment, as if going through a rolodex of girls he’d kissed and then whether they applied to this situation or not, and then when it seemed he’d found a memory that fit the criteria, he necked his shot.

“Is it just me or is this tequila starting to taste like water?” Zayn said, laughing a bit.

Zayn had somewhat not-surprisingly participated in most of the rounds tonight, hence the bottle being more on his end. After he shakily filled it, thankfully not spilling a drop, he passed it down to Harry who proceeded to fill his shot glass back up.

“So it’s my turn,” Sage said, smiling wickedly. “Never have I ever had sex outside the bedroom.”

Almost as if it were coordinated like one of the many famous coordinated dances One Direction was known for, they all took their shot in front of them…even Liam beside me. Sage and I looked at each other, our eyes a bit wide and then we stared at them. I looked at Liam.

“Even you? Papa Direction?” I asked incredulously.

“I expected from Tall Hair over here with the Free Willy he’s got tucked away in his tight pants, but you?” I asked, jabbing my thumb in the direction of Harry. There were a round of chuckles as Liam put his hands up.

“Danielle was adventurous, I couldn’t just deny her,” he explained, taking a sip of his water.

“Oh really? So where did this happen?”

“In the old tour bus in Italy…on that back couch where the videogame console is.”

“Liam!” Niall shouted in disbelief.

“Say it isn’t true,” Harry groaned, rubbing the side of his face with his large hand.

“Dude, I licked that couch,” Louis exclaimed, looking horrified at Liam who still looked fairly unapologetic about his sexual escapade on the tour bus. I gave him a weird look before Sage was the next person to say something.

“Louis?” Sage asked, obviously wanting an explanation as well.

“I do have a girlfriend and every once in a while it’s impossible not to sneak up behind her in the back garden.”

I sighed, “Even you Niall? I thought we were becoming buddies,” I said eyeing him like he’d betrayed me.

He laughed in response, “Don’t worry movie buddy, we are. And if you’re interested: I had sex at an outdoor music festival in me hometown.”

Seriously?

“Perry and I have shagged in the recording studio once…or twice,” Zayn said. Zayn laughed at my expression. These guys were crazy.

“I suppose I’ve done it a couple times but the one that comes to mind is the time I had sex in the shower,” Harry shared, his eyes darting to me every once in a while. Sex in the shower…with Harry. No, stop it Martinella! I tried my hardest not to stare back at him and I even was able to suppress the sound of me choking on my saliva. This game was getting too raunchy and Harry was about to take it to a whole new level.

As he refilled his glass, he passed it around to every one else so that they could do the same, readying themselves for the next question. I honestly was hoping it was something that I could drink to especially since I’d only had about three shots and was miserably behind everyone.

“Hm, let’s see…never have I ever had a wet dream or sex dream for the ladies here, about someone at this table,” Harry said, the words easily flowing from his lips.

At first I hesitated. Okay, truth time with a bit of story time mixed in. Back when I was a nobody attending university with Sage, we were into One Direction. And if I’m being totally honest, I did have a huge crush on Zayn, but I had a natural draw towards Harry in a weird way. I can’t confirm or deny that I’d never had sex dreams about Harry, especially after meeting him in the flesh and not remembering, but I could at least fall back on the fact that I had a couple of Zayn way back when…that and it’d get me out of the sticky situation of having to say Harry’s name out loud.

As I had just decided I was going to take the shot, I heard Sage mumble, “fuck it” from beside me, knocking back her tequila shot. Repeating her words, only in my head instead, and took the shot.

Now, I didn’t know if anyone else had taken a shot since I had been wrapped up in my mind, but Harry looked over at an incredibly red Niall, asking him if he really had. If Niall didn’t look so incredibly uncomfortable, Harry probably would’ve pushed the matter further, maybe even ask who it was at the table. Harry’s eyes then darted to Sage and me, lingering on me for a moment before those scanning green eyes.

“Sage, you have anything you want to share?” he asked, still not really looking at her, but staring at me. He was playing this game. He was going to try and see how long he could keep me tense and waiting and how much I’d be willing to play along…well at least that’s what it felt like and seemed like in my head.

Sage, being the bold person she is shrugged, “I already told Niall that I’d had a dream about him.”

“Whoa, you never said you had a sex dream about me!” Niall said, his voice raising just a tad.

“I didn’t?” Sage rebutted innocently. She smiled and looked away from Niall, but it was obvious that they were still being incredibly awkward with one another.

“I guess that’s fair,” Niall mumbled under his breath. Good thing I read lips.

“What’s fair?” I asked.

He looked at me and sighed deeply, before looking at the whole table, then at Sage and then down at his empty plate. “I had one about her too…it was a few weeks ago.”

“You mean the night where we thought you were dreaming about being a dog with all that panting coming from your room, you were actually having a wet dream about Sage?” Louis asked, slowly turning his head toward Niall.

The poor guy. His face was red and he had visibly sunken in his seat. Zayn was patting his shoulder next to him, unable to contain his laughter, but all I could do was pray that this was distracting Harry from asking me.

“Louis, you drank. Who at this table have you dreamed about in that way?” Liam asked, raising an eyebrow.

I think we all inhaled deeply at the same time. There was no telling what Louis was going to say from minute to minute, and Lord knows that the short time that I’d known this guy, you couldn’t even imagine the worst that could come out of his mouth.

“Can I first say, I am personally hurt that no one has had a wet dream about me, I mean, I’m hot.”

When everybody waited silently for him to finish, he shook his head. “It’ll be my personal mission to at least have one of you dream of me sexually. This face and this ass will not go to waste. And if you’re really interested, it was Harry and Liam.”

It got deathly quiet around the table for a moment before Sage’s loud laughter interrupted the slight confusion that seemed to blanket the table. I turned to look at Harry who looked genuinely stunned and then at Liam who was utterly lost.

“Harry, don’t give me that look. We lived in the same flat together and all you’d ever do when we didn’t have company or weren’t expecting anyone over was wander around naked. So what, one night after watching you make a sandwich in the buff, I thought to myself, Harry’s got a nice bum and then went to sleep and it appeared in my dream. So sue me,” he said, waving his hands by his face sarcastically. “And Liam, you really need to stop working out…your arms starred in my last three dreams that included you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as well, hiding my grin with my hand as I stared at the awkward situation unfolding in front of me. Another silence fell on the table before Harry coughed and then Sage broke it for the second time tonight.

“So all I’m hearing is a threesome right now. Can I watch?”

I laughed hard, but quickly recovered, sobering up and nudging her elbow, shaking my head. “Liam looks like he’s scarred from just knowing that Louis has had not only one but a few wet dreams about him.”

As we all started refilling our shot glasses and just when I thought I was in the clear with Harry asking me the follow up question for me taking a shot, Harry just had to open his mouth.

“And you Martie, who were you lusting after in your dreams?”

You, I thought, my eyes meeting those green eyes, those green eyes that never seemed to miss a thing. What was he looking for when he looked at me all the time? Was I slightly more deformed from the accident earlier than previously thought? Did I look like an ugly version of Quasimodo? I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks before finally I stopped biting on my lip and let my eyes flutter over to Zayn. I really hoped this wouldn’t slow the progress of me and Zayn’s friendship.

“To be honest? Zayn,” I said. “Have you seen that boy’s hips in action, not to mention his pelvis in that one video where he dances to Usher.”

I watched as Zayn smiled, winking at me. “What can I say, no woman is immune to my charm.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, “That’s true…until you open your mouth.”

As they laughed, I chanced a glance over at Harry who was still staring at me but his face had changed, and it wasn’t in the way I thought it would. Instead of maybe looking disinterested or maybe even indignant that I didn’t list his name—LIKE A NORMAL PERSON—he looked amused. There was a smirk comfortably nestled across his face, his dimples lightly indenting his cheeks. I was confused. Why was he looking like that? There’s no way he could’ve figured that I actually should’ve listed him along with Zayn, I mean no way.

Two days later, Louis’ theory had somehow come true. Sure we’d all suffered hangovers the next morning, the kind that only tea and pancakes could really cure, but we’d become leagues closer. Niall and I had already developed a complex system of inside jokes, jokes that annoyed Sage a tad whenever we’d look at her, look at each other and bust out laughing. Sage had instantly bonded with Zayn over their love of drawing, something that I envied both of them for. Stick figures was the medium I stuck with. But as much as I wanted to revel in how close Sage and I had gotten with the guys, one thing was certain: my nerves were making it hard for me to focus on anything outside of what today was.

And for those on Face-Watch 2014, the bruise had somewhat gotten better, my face wasn’t so purple anymore, and the swelling had gone down sometime two nights ago. With enough foundation I was able to make it look like nothing was wrong with my face.

“So I think after Eyes Wide Shut we should go back into an energetic song. I’m thinking You Don’t Matter Anymore,” Sage said, scribbling down on the notebook page in front of us.

I merely nodded, feeling my stomach begin to swell with a thousand irritable and a thousand excited butterflies, all fluttering madly in me. Niall was sitting on the far side of the room, strumming something—he might also be singing but I wasn’t sure, there was no possible way I could focus. I hadn’t felt like this since our very first show to a crowd of a whopping forty people. Sure, that’s nothing compared to the 36,000 we were about to perform to, but at the time forty was the most people gathered in a room, staring at me as I belted out a song that wasn’t already in existence and playing on the radio. Forty people was a lot, relatively speaking. But 36,000? No matter how many people you perform to, 36,000 would always be a shit ton of people.

“Hey Space Cadet, did you hear what I just said?” Sage said, throwing a pillow. It hit me in the face and I turned to look at her, only nodding my head, but to be honest, I’d barely processed and comprehended what she’d said.

“Can you even speak right now?”

I nodded again, still not comprehending the words.

“Great white buffalo,” Niall sang out quietly as he plucked a few strings of his guitar. That was enough to get me to snap out of my brain. I laughed, shaking my head, and leaning back in my seat. Niall’s laugh was also bouncing off the walls loudly, a very confused Sage sitting in between the two of us.

“Oh I see how it is: you can hear Frosty over here but you just ignore me while we have to get a set list down,” Sage said, her brown eyes narrowed at me.

I gave her a weak smile, “Sorry? My brain is just all over the place.”

“Why?”

I gave out a laugh, “Why? Sage, we’re about to perform in front of easily the biggest crowd we could possibly perform in front of <i>in</i> Columbia! How can you focus on a set list when we’re literally eight hours away from playing the gig of a lifetime?”

“You’re nervous aren’t you?”

I shrugged, “How could I not be? How can you be so in control right now?”

“Because I had my realization moment when I woke up this morning. I am now the master of my own emotions.”

“You make it sound so easy,” I mumbled, leaning back on the bed a bit, my upper torso and head hanging off the nearest edge of the bed.

By that time, Niall had stopped strumming and him standing upside down came into my line of vision as he repositioned his chair and sat down a few feet away. I didn’t move.

“Look at me Martie,” Niall said, his signature smile still plastered on his face. I sighed, sitting up. “It’s not easy to calm your nerves, trust me, I know, but you have to. There’s tons of stuff that needs to be accomplished between now and when you walk out on that stage, and one of them happens to be this set list. So whatever you have to do to clear your mind—for me, I personally just go and grab some McDonald’s—go do it now and then come back here and get it done.”

I looked at Sage who looked relieved to have someone taking her side and taking the reigns on trying to calm me down. She knew how bad my nerves could get before shows, and I think she was expecting them to be worse given the circumstances. I took a deep breath and nodded, my eyes slowly moving to meet Niall’s bright blue ones.

He was right. I needed to go do something to take my mind off of it for a moment. Maybe calling my mom would be a good idea.

Three hours later, the set list done and having spoken to my mom who told me that if I fall on my face it’d only be 36,000 people there to see it, we were walking down and into the tunnel to our dressing room. We weaved past a few busy crewmembers, trying to bustle around to get things in order before the guys showed up. I listened to the echo against the cinderblock walls, footsteps going left and right, and I could feel my nerves starting to flare up again. How was I going to function for the next few hours?

It was during sound check that I started to feel my nerves become a bit shot. I was responding as normally as I could, singing whenever the sound engineer needed me to, but while singing Cashed In, one of the few songs on this set list and in our repertoire that people would actually know, I was sitting Indian style at the edge of the stage, looking out into empty stadium. The wind tussled my locks against my face, momentarily inhibiting my sight, but I could still envision thousands of people staring back at me.

“I’m just the lucky one, I’m cashing in tonight,” I sang out the last line before there was some discussion between One Direction’s guitar tech and Sage.

As they continued their discussion, somewhat bringing the sound check to a halt on my end, I pulled my legs up, my knees becoming the support for my chin as it rested heavily atop them. I had blocked everything out as my eyes continued scanning the empty seats, the seats that seemed to go on for miles. I could’ve never dreamed in a million years I’d be here, doing this. A year ago, I was just some random college student, majoring in Biology, dreaming of writing music with my best friend Sage. And after a bunch of random Youtube covers, one video shared by 1/5 of the hottest boy band in the world at the current moment, everything had changed. We were Youtube famous, Simon Cowell contacted us and probably craziest of all, we were signed within a week of constant meetings with him and multiple performances for various groups. Nothing was the same after that. And part of me was scared that it would never go back to the way things were, but I’d come to terms with that. As my mom loved to remind me, there’s no such thing as a free lunch, and when it came to the entertainment industry, you didn’t become famous or get to do what you love for no cost—you’d always end up sacrificing something. I was just hoping, performing in front of this crowd would make any drastic change we’d gone through in the past year worth it.

Before I could get sucked into my brain any further and never find a way back out, I felt someone bump me from the side and I turned my head to see Harry sliding next to me, his long, lanky legs stretched out in front of him. He was wearing black jeans, per usual, ripped around the knee a bit.

“How’re you doing?” he asked, his deep voice seeming to calm me a bit.

“Fine,” I lied.

“Bullshit.”

I rolled my eyes, “Has anyone ever told you your legs look like two toothpicks and your feet like two large bars of soap?”

I heard him laugh.

“No, no one’s ever told me that per se, but I like your honesty.”

I shrugged, looking back out into the stadium.

“Looks massive doesn’t it?”

I didn’t respond. I think my silence could do an answer far more justice than me actually verbalizing my feelings at this point. If honesty was the key, I couldn’t trust to put my emotions into words. They were too off-the wall and confused me.

“Talk to me Martie.”

I closed my eyes, “What am I supposed to say?”

“Hey, I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’ve been in your shoes plenty of times. I just want to you to tell me what you’re thinking.”

“How can I? I don’t even know what I’m feeling.”

I finally moved my head so that I could look at him, and I was instantly hit with those vibrant green eyes of his. There was something about those eyes that unnerved me, so I unintentionally flinched when I first saw them, but slowly, I relaxed again and watched as he slowly nodded his head.

“I know that feeling,” he started, glancing back out at the empty stadium, “that feeling of dread that maybe you made a big mistake choosing to do this. That fright that kind of just paralyzes you and makes it nearly impossible to take your mind of it.”

I listened quietly, my face softening as my own realization was sinking in. Harry did know how this felt.

“But then there’s this odd happiness. A happiness to know you’ve gotten this far, that <i>someone</i> out there believed you were good enough to make it here. It’s relief, it’s happiness, it’s confusion all wrapped into a nice, tiny little package that somehow swells and grows the more you think about it.” I remained quiet; my eyes still focused on him as he bit his lip for a moment before staring directly at me. “Am I close?”

I let a couple counts of silence pass before I finally answered, letting my short legs roll out in front of me, mirroring Harry’s own. “On the money.”

He smiled, “I know. It’s a complicated feeling that very few actually understand and have actually dealt with.”

I nodded, my eyes lowering for a moment, “Does it ever go away?”

Harry took a moment to piece his thoughts together; I could see it in his eyes, before he finally answered the question. “Not completely. You still get a case of the butterflies before shows; a sense of impending doom goes with time though. The dread and the fright are just first time jitters.”

I nodded my head, taking one last glance at the stadium seating before looking back at him.

‘Trust me, when you step foot on that stage and you sing that first note, you’re going to be fine. Things just blend well and soon you’re doing what you do best, and trust me, I’ve seen you strut on a stage.”

“You have?” I asked, feeling my cheeks heat a bit.

“Of course I have, Youtube was my introduction to you.”

“I thought Niall was your introduction to me.”

He gave a soft laugh, his dimples so deeply indenting his face that I was sure I’d melt if I looked at him any longer. So I took a moment to look down at my feet and then back up at him. “Who do you think directed him to that video?”

That made me stop and for a moment my brain began to activate itself again. So what was he trying to say? That he was the one that found us on the internet and that he was the one that got Niall to watch the video that made us famous? What? I could feel my eyebrows furrowed in concentration as I tried to wrap my head around what he had said, but before I could respond to him, he was standing up. “If you would excuse me, I have a meet and greet to get to. I guess I’ll see you just before you go on.”

And like that he had disappeared with me not even getting to ask for clarification. What the hell did he mean by that statement? And why the hell would he just say that and then leave?

By the time the guys’ sound check had started, Sage and I were headed back to our dressing room. It was upon our arrival that we noticed two things that had obviously not been in the room before: a large box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers. I stared at her in confusion, but she had the same look I did, so she didn’t know where they’d come from either.

As we walked closer, I could see that the box of chocolates was clearly labeled for her and the flowers had a large M printed in a fancy script with silver foil. I picked up the note nestled into the flowers and looked over at Sage who was smiling wide.

“To Sage, I know before shows when I get nervous, chocolate calms me down. So I bought you the biggest chocolate box I could find. Enjoy ‘em. P.S. I may have eaten some because I got hungry waiting for your sound check to finish. Lots of love, A little leprechaun,” she read out loud.

I laughed a bit, Niall. Of course he’d eat part of the gift he’d given her. She seemed extremely excited even if Sage didn’t actually like chocolates, just like I didn’t particularly care for flowers.

“That’s awfully sweet of him,” Sage said, opening the box to see that he indeed had eaten a whole column of chocolates.

I nodded in agreement.

“Who is yours from?”

I flipped the tiny envelope over to see that there was an ‘H’ in really pretty handwriting on the back. Ten guesses as to what the ‘H’ stood for.

“Harry,” I said, a bit perplexed. Either way, I ripped open the small envelope and unfolded a piece of smooth, off-white paper with slightly messy, yet elegant handwriting adorning it. “To Martie, the only moose I’ve ever met who talks incessantly. Hopefully this calms your nerves long enough to let me apologize for the way we met. You may think I’m on my way to becoming a serial door assaulter, but I promise, it’ll only be a one time thing. Though you’ve accused me of this crime, and you’re a tad stand-offish, I’ll have you know my answer is still yes. With all the love I can legally give a moose, Harry.”

What the fuck did I just read?