Thunder

Chapter 1-PART 2

I stood on the stage, hanging off Simon’s arm, I was so nervous, I was so surprised I had gotten this far, I hadn’t even expected to get through auditions and now here I was.

‘The last person safely through to next week is…’ Dermot paused for a dramatic effect, I felt Simon squeeze my arm in reassurance, ‘January!’ The X Factor theme tuned blared as I hugged Simon tightly before hugging the two acts that had to sing for survival.

I ran back stage, were I started hugging the members of Lace.

‘I knew you’d get through,’ I kept saying to them and they replied with the same thing, it was what happened every week between the acts, even if you were surprised, but with Lace, I was never surprised, they were so talented, beautiful and lovely people and were nice to everyone that they ever came into contact with.

Simon came up behind me and placed a hand on the small of my back, ‘can I talk to you January?’ he asked, and I nodded and said a goodbye to the girls.

‘Well done for getting through,’ he congratulated me, ‘now, I know you’ve not been well this week, so I want you to go home and get some rest okay, be ready for tomorrow, next week’s One Direction week.’

‘What?’ I said confused, ‘One Direction haven’t been heard of in the past four years!’

‘Therefore we need to re-launch them, they’ll be doing a few promotions over the next few weeks.’

‘Oh,’ I said, Simon patted me on the back.

‘You did well kid,’ he smiled, ‘I’ll get a driver to pick you up round the back, avoid the crowds.’

I opened my mouth to say something, but he held up his hand ‘I know, I know you want to say hi to the fans, but you’re nothing to them sick, go home.’

I nodded knowing he was right, sighing I walked out to the back, feeling terrible for avoiding all the people who had paid money to keep me in the show, but I remembered that if I wanted to stay in the show for them I needed some rest.

I was huddled out the black of the studio, shrouded in a black coat; the rain thumping off my back, the air was cold and the nigh quiet, although I could still hear the light hum of voices waiting for us to emerge.

I was bundled into the back of a black avensis with tinted windows, as soon as I was out of sight I took out my phone and went on to twitter, my fingers hovered over the cavity which asked for my e-mail address, I breathed in deep and signed in to my old account, it had been unused for five years, my followers on it were high given the fact that they had shown this account in the Xtra Factor on the first live show, not my finest hour might I add. I quickly searched my favourite update account, oh God, it hadn’t been active for weeks, months, years, and now there was a so many twitlongers, I clicked into the most recent:

“One Direction are back in business! Reports circulating about One Direction’s return to fame were finally confirmed by Simon Cowell: “It’s great to see the boys ready to work again, of course things have changed, three of them are married, one divorced and one engaged, but the one direction is still the same we all know and love,” Uncle Simon said on the Xtra Factor tonight, “Next week the contestants will be doing a one direction themed song, with members of one direction coaching them during the week, the week after that we hope to have the remaining contestants do duets with members of the band with a song the two will have penned together.”

The number was still in my phone, had he changed it? Was it different? Had he changed? Was he different?

“What do you mean he has webcams?” Harry cried, pushing out all the appliances from the walls and inspecting them closely.

“I don’t know Harry, he snapped,” I said breathless, he ran a hand through his hair.

“He’s watching us right now?” Harry said.

“I don’t know,” I said, “Harry he’s gone crazy, I barely got out,”

“Fuck January,” Harry said, “I have to go to Ashley, get your coat.”

“Harry, no I’m not safe here,” I said, running a hand through my own hair.

“Then go,” he ushered, heading to the door.

“I can’t use my bankcard it’s a joint account,” I said, shaking from head to toe, Harry went into the cupboard, and pulled out an old biscuit tin, and wrenched out wads of cash.

“Get out of here, okay?” he said, “go, call me when you get there, go.”

“Harry, I can’t…” he cut me off.

“Yes you can,” he breathed, “come on; I’ll give you a ride.”

I snapped out of the flashback just as the car pulled up outside the hotel, my dress hitched slightly when I slid out and I caught a glimpse of the mutated scar that crept up my thigh.