The Girl Next Door

3, 2, 1, Action!

"Calm yourself, Carter. It's not the end of the world." the next Monday, I stood backstage with my guitar in my hands, shaking. I dared to peek behind the curtain. 

My head bounced back, my eyes crinkling. 

"That's one hell of a crowd."

I started shaking even more.

"You'll do fine, kid." Mr. Newton showed up behind me, putting one hand on my shoulder in an attempt to calm me down. It failed. "Don't forget to breathe." he smiled as he walked away.

"Not helping." I thought.

I don't really know how I ended up on stage. I either fell, or someone pushed me. That doesn't really matter. The thing that matters is that I was standing on a stage, on my week knees, in front of a mob of people who wanted to hear a show- which I was pretty sure I couldn't give. 

I picked up my guitar, awared of the hungry stares focused on my face. I looked at the crowd.

"Madison Square Garden." Sure, the dozen people sipping beer and coffe in a pub/cafe´ were nothing compared to MSG, but this was like Times Square on New Year's Eve to me. I cleared my throat, attempting to stall before I took a deep, long breath.

The words, along with the melody to 'Drunk' simply flew out of me. And that happened with every song. As scary as it seemed at the beginning, I actually started to enjoy it after a while. Until he came, that is.

I sighted him, in the back, covered by darkness, with some other guy, drinking beer. I took my eyes off of him and focused on my singing.

"Oh hell no! You're not going to ruin this for me." I frowned.

After 'Free Fallin', 'Grade 8' and a bunch of other songs, my work was finished. 

"You did great." Mr. Newton winked, giving me a thumbs up when I finally climbed down from the stage. I nodded, smiling.

I realised Curly Boy was approaching me, so I turned my 'annoying mode' back on.

"Oh. My. God! Harry Styles from One Direction is standing in front of me! What ever shall I do?" I sqealed, faking a swoon.

"I know," he lifted his hands up, twirling.

"No, you don't at all look like an idiot." 

"I'm quite a catch." the other guy laughed almost as hard as I did. I may even like him. "Lou, this is Carter, my neighbour,-" he turned around to him.

"The one you've been talking about for so long?" he's been talking about me? Nothing good, at least. Harry blushed.

"Carter, this is Louis." he offered me his hand for a handshake. "He's in the band with me."

"Band? I thought you said bed." that Lou guy and I chuckled. He wasn't half bad.

"You," I looked at him and his striped shirt. "I actually like."

"I actually like you too."

"Aww, look at you two," Harry clapped his gigantic hands. "you'd make an adorable couple."

"Can it, Curly." I answered back.

"I've gotta go, bye!" Louis rushed to the exit. 

"What? You're leaving me alone with Giant Hands?!" he was already gone. If I hadn't known better, I'd think they planned this so me and Harry could be left alone. 

"You wanna have a drink?"

"Not in a million years." a big fake smile was plastered across my face.

"Okay." I went to the door with my guitar on my back. I realised Harry was following me. 

"Can I help you? You look like you need a dangerous amount of alchohol and sleeping pills." I rolled my eyes.

"Actually," he reached for something in his jacket pocket. "I was wondering would you go with me?" he handed me a rectangular shaped piece of paper. As I looked more closely, I realised it was an Ed Sheeran ticket for the 02 Arena in London.

"How did you know I like him?"

"Well, I think the orange paw print bumper sticker on your guitar, and the fact that most of the songs from your show were Ed's are pretty nice clues." he smiled. 

"I thought it sold out."

"It did. But, Ed and I are kind of really close, so... It's on Saturday. Will you please go with me?" as tempting as it was, getting to see my favorite person in the world, I can't go with Mr. Boyband.

"No." I slammed the ticket against his chest and started walking to my house. He stopped me.

"Pretty please with cherries on top?" he put on a puppy face.

"How about a no?"

"They come with VIP backstage passes!" he yelled after me, catching up a second later. "Look," his eyes looked at mine. They were really green. "Here's the ticket." he shoved it in my hand. "You go. If you don't want to see me there, you won't. But I want you to go." it was nearly sincere. 

"Okay..." I suspiciously added, ignoring his eyes. "Thanks, I guess." I turned my back on him and headed home.

"See you there!" he shouted like he didn't care people were watching. I guess your confidence bumps when you have a concert every second night.

"You said you wouldn't come!"

"No, I said you won't see me there." 

Then I guess I have a date with a pop star. Peachy.