City of Angels (H.S.)

Chapter 4

I had only a few minutes to get freshen up from the time I arrived back at home to the time I was supposed to meet Dave and a staff photographer to drive out to Pasadena where the week's first concert was. Throwing my bag onto the couch as soon as I walked through the door, I was suddenly panic-stricken at the thought of the evening. 

I couldn't decide if the conversation I'd had with Harry back in the hotel room had been requisite rockstar charm, or something else entirely. I didn't even want to think about it. The last thing that needed to happen was an embarrassing crush on an interview subject; it would make the following weeks--maybe even months--entirely unbearable. I peered into the bathroom mirror and tried to decide if I could get away with applying a little more makeup without looking like I'd visibly made an effort. And even if he was flirting with me, I let myself think as I swept some a copper eyeshadow shade by MAC across my eyelids, there's nothing worse than being labeled a groupie. He was cute, though, I allowed. 

My wide amber eyes now popped thanks to the layer of copper and several very generous coatings of mascara on my top and bottom lashes. My goal was to look better than I had earlier that day, but not like I has actually tried to get glam. My hair still looked fine: long, thick and wavy, but I needed to do something about my outfit. I shed the blazer I wore to the office and traded out my bejeweled J.Crew necklace for a few tangled layers of long, chunky chains. The end result was a slightly more rock-and-roll vibe--not entirely conducive for what I was assuming would been a teen concert, but at least I looked good. I didn't change my skirt. I knew he would notice. 

I met up with the team at a predetermined Starbucks so we could all make the drive out to Pasadena together. Dave and a photographer stood talking outside the front doors when I pulled in, alongside an unfamiliar girl around my age. "Hiiii," I greeted the group meekly as I sidled up to them. 

The photographer immediately stuck out a tattooed hand for me to shake. "Bryan!" he offered brightly. I returned the introduction, glad to have someone nice around for the night. He wasn't entirely un-cute either, I thought wryly before turning to the girl. "I'm Penny, one of the interns," I said with a smile. She returned it. "Cassie!" she smiled warmly at me, and I began to feel much better about the entire evening. Dave didn't say much--he never did, unless it was something mean. Our Uber, a big black Escalade, pulled up, and I slid in next to Cassie. Maybe we could even be friends. 

For the next 45 minutes, we chatted back and forth about bands and writers we admired, our hometowns, and how we were liking LA so far. Dave largely ignored us, and Bryan occasionally interjected our conversation with recommendations for us to check out in the city. It was so pleasant, I almost entirely forgot about the little knot in my stomach. Almost. I was nervous, definitely, but for what, I wasn't completely forgot. 

The Uber pulled around the back of the Rose Bowl towards the service entrance. We all had to pass up our state IDs to the security officers standing at the gate before we could even exit the vehicle. Walking across the service parking lot to the nondescript grey door next to a dumpster, I felt a shiver make its way up my spine. Just beyond the entrance was more security--I had to surrender my bag for a search and walk through two separate metal detectors. We were given long badges printed with the tour's logo and stamped with ALL AREAS as we followed the security head down a long, dimly lit hallway before finally being allowed to enter the greenroom.

There they all lounged, in various forms of dress. Shirtless Niall and Liam argued over the one XBOX controlled unoccupied by Zayn, kicking at each other and tussling like brothers. Liam kicked Niall in the head, and Niall let out a loud "FUCK YOU" that made Louis, who was laying down on the couch bust out laughing. "You jackasses are so embarrassing," Zayn mumbled, hoarding the other video game controller under one leg and scrolling though his phone with the other. 

As we greeted management and began unpacking the interview equipment, I tried to do a subtle scan of the room for Harry. I hadn't noticed him when we first walked in. I finally spied him in the corner, also shirtless, hunched like a parenthesis mark over a little side table, scrawling frantically in a little leather notebook. Suddenly, he jerked his head up and looked right at me. His big, too-green eyes locked with mine and I felt like a kid who's just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. I jerked my head back towards my group and tried to look busy, but it was too late. I heard him slam his book shut and walk towards us. 

"Hi, Dave," he said too loudly, holding out his big hands to do that slap-shake thing guys were always doing that girl's had zero understanding of. Dave looked delighted that Harry had remembered him. He leaned in close to me. "Hi, Penny," he practically over-enunciated my name. Dave bristled. "You guys talked?" I opened by mouth to explain, but Harry cut me off. "Oh, yeah. When this Pen came back for your pen, we talked for a while." My mouth fell open in disbelief. I couldn't believe this asshole was throwing me under the bus like this. "That's not what happened--," I tried, but Dave held up his hand angrily. "I'll deal with you later. Go get us some water bottles from craft services. Of of the security guy said it's on the other end of the stadium." I wanted to cry. I shot one last look at Harry, and slunk off down the hall, feeling more miserable than ever. I was fucking up this internship and it was only my first day. 

The stadium was huge. All I heard for fifteen inures was the click of my boot heels as I trudged down the length of the venue in search of water for Dave. Finally, I spotted an illuminated room the right, with a white piece of printer paper taped to the side of the door frame, CRAFT SERVICES scrawled across it in permanent marker. I made the mental decision to take a few minutes to compose myself before bringing the water back to the greenroom. I needed a few minutes just to sit and feel sorry for myself before having to back and face Dave--and Harry. 

I walked into the room and nearly screamed with frustration. Harry was already there, sitting astride a backwards chair, waiting for me.