Love. (A Louis Tomlinson Fanfic)

Chapter 1

♫I think your famous, where have i seen you...♫

Chapter 1. #LoveFanficLouis 🌺  

(AMBERS POV)  

“What do you mean, 'they blew up all the lightbulbs in the pavilion'? Thats not even possible, and who are 'they'?!?!” I screamed into my phone. Hold up. I havent introduced myself yet. Whoops.   Well...Hi. I'm Amber. And I work at Ronald Reagan Pavilion in Nevada, as a technological maintenance worker. That's fancy code for 'clean up girl'. I basically take care of the pavilion. I clean the hallways, sweep the entrances, replace the lightbulbs, and all the other stuff that needs to get done around this place.

I have to admit, this job is far from fun. Its downright boring. But I get paid well, so im good.  

“'They' is the band thats performing Saturday. They came in for soundcheck and Fiddled around in the soundbooth, basically playing around with the lighting until all the lightbulbs exploded.” the monotoned voice of the pavilion owner informed me.  

Ugh, you cant be serious right now.  

“Sir, its 5 in the morning, I cant just drive over there and clean up the lightbulb mess. It'll take a full day to sweep up all the shards and replace them as well!” I complained, wanting desperately to just stay in my bed and lay there. I hate mornings, im more of a night person.  

“I'm sorry, but we need you to begin cleaning instantly. The sooner you start, the sooner you finish. I expect to see you here in 30 minutes.” my boss commanded. I was about to protest about working at this inhumane hour, but the dial tone of the phone cut me off. He had hung up. Grr.

Lazily, I dragged myself out of bed and walked (zombie-like) towards my closet.   Randomly pulling out the first two articles of clothing I could find, I threw them on and let out a sleepy yawn. I grabbed my fuzzy brown ugg boots and looked down at my thrown together attire. An over sized, bright red 'cool story bro' hoodie, and a some black sweatpants. I'm a fashion inspiration, arent I? Sarcasm.  

Anywho, I stared at my plain face in the mirror before tying my hair up in a bun and leaving a couple strands hanging down. I was really to sleepy to do much else. I dragged my feet along the carpet and into my kitchen, grabbing the keys off the coat rack.  

“BYE CONNOR!” I yelled into the apartment, to my room mate.  

“ugghhh...” Connor's voice groaned from his room, signalling that id probably woken him up. Oh well. I turned and shuffled out the door, still not fully awake as I climbed into my car. Trying to jolt myself awake, I turned up the car radio and began to hum along to 'Ready or Not' by Bridget Mendler. 5 minutes and a quick drive by Starbucks later, I arrived at the pavilion.   The air was bitter cold as I made my way towards the side entrance, my teeth automatically chattering. Its to freaking cold for exploded lightbulbs. Stupid celebrities, thinking they can just get away with being a nuisence like that. I wonder who the band is. Probably some crazy heartthrob boyband. I cant see Maroon 5 or the Fray blowing up lightbulbs.  

I shrugged to myself, not really caring. Turning the key in the lock, I entered the pavilion. I froze in my tracks as I looked around the big empty concert hall, my eyes wide. Shrapnel was everywhere. Remains of the exploded lightbulbs scattered the floor.  

Oh my god.  

I officially hate the thick headed idiots who caused this. Grabbing my headphones and cranking my ipod up, I snatched a broom and dustpan and began to clean up the mess. I was about to dump the filled dustpan into the trash when a finger tapped me lightly on the shoulder. I spun around, coming face to face with a brunette boy. He had clear, ice blue eyes and wore a slightly nervous smirk.  

“Um, hi. I'm Louis, from One Direction.”