During The X Factor (One Direction)

Chapter 14 - The Meeting

I had forgotten how much I had missed the sights here. It may not seem much to others, but I think it’s truly breathtaking. Places like the gorgeous sandy beaches or the luscious green countryside may be beautiful, but they’re nothing to the beauty I can see here.

You might not agree with me. You probably think I’m odd, but I love seeing the differences, experiencing the changes between people’s lives here and my life back home. I’m mesmerized, gazing out the window at the Thames as we glide past.

Let me fill you in on what’s actually happening;

It’s Tuesday, and I’m in London. I caught the train down early this morning and am now driving off in a shiny black car, hired and pre-paid specially for me. Mum didn’t mind, she even drove me to the train station, and offered to lie to the college and tell them I was ill again. That is so unlike my mother.

Now, the reason I’m here: the text.

It was from Harry. I don’t hear from him for about four weeks, so the first question I asked myself was, what convinced him to message me?

Obviously, just before that, I could barley breathe. I saw his name lighting up the screen, looking so out of place next to the new wallpaper on my phone (a photo of me and Elvie trying on clothes in Topshop two weeks ago), and the angry army of butterflies in my stomach launched into battle. With my heart, it seemed.

Then I ran into my bedroom to think about that question...

The first thing that came to my mind – Liam.

Maybe Liam told Harry everything, and Harry’s not happy about it. That message could be full of hate, telling me even more hurtful things that will just erase every happy memory from the last few weeks from my head.

Or perhaps Harry just missed me, and I was right to leave him in the hope that everything will work out eventually. The text could be full of apologies, of him telling me that he’s sorry and wants to be my best friend again.

At this point, the message remained unread.

But my fingers were trembling. I was hesitant to read the message, worried about the outcome. I had to read it, sooner or later, didn’t I?

I closed my eyes and pushed the button to open the message:

Hey, Chazza, how are you? I think we need to talk properly sometime soon. I don’t think apologising via text is going to work ;)

I can get someone to pick you up and bring you here, so we can talk?

Please don’t ignore me.

Love, Hazza x

I smiled at his message. It’s so sweet that he asked how I am - But that’s only because he knows he’s done wrong.

And he’s joking with me, acting friendly, almost like nothing’s happened to separate us - But it has, and it was all his fault, yet he thinks that adding a smiley face will make you best friends again?

He’s never ended a message like that, either. It’s like he really wants to sort things out between us, and is pulling out all the stops.

I had spent the rest of the evening texting him, arranging what we were going to do. Obviously, seeing as it was Saturday he had to go off and get ready to perform, and then actually perform, so we’d stop talking then and I would dash down the stairs and watch the show live.

Just talked with one of the drivers, he told me after their first performance, Only Girl In The World, during which I couldn’t stop laughing at Niall’s dancing, And he said he will pick you up from the station and bring you down on Tuesday. Is that OK?

Of course, it was, but I’ve missed talking to him and couldn’t resist but joke around a bit.

You seem confident that you’re not leaving tomorrow? ;) I had joked with him.

Haha! I’m in a great mood, so I’m gonna stay positive! :D he told me, and I had actually laughed out loud.

“We’re here, miss.” The driver tells me now. We pull into the wide driveway of the huge white house, separated from the outside world by wire fences and big bodyguards. 

I’ve never been to the X Factor house before. Apparently it’s an honour to be invited, because it’s rare anybody other than contestants and crew are ever here.

There aren’t any fans in sight. I think I read in the paper that they all had to be moved down the street because they were causing too much commotion or something, so had migrated to the actual studio.

Harry told me you had to be extra special to be allowed here,

“Or, you just have to know the right people,” he had said on the phone last night.

That was the first time I’d heard his voice since the argument. It sounded nothing like him; it was like he had changed completely. At the time, I wasn’t shaken by this fact, because I was actually talking to him, and we weren’t arguing! I must have been in such a good mood.

I remember being unable to stop laughing at what he was saying. Well, to be more precise, at what his band mates were shouting down the phone at me.

Niall and Louis were repeatedly screaming ‘Chaazzzaaaaaa’ and adding in the odd random word here and there, like ‘kettle’ or ‘piano’ (I’m pretty sure they were just naming objects they could see…) or the infamous ‘carrots’.

“Vas happnin, gurl!” I heard Zayn scream…several times.

Harry had apologised a dozen times, but he kept disappearing from the line to hide his outburst of giggles.

I laugh just thinking about it.

Gary, the driver, holds the door open for me so I can gracefully step out of the car and onto the tarmac.

Wow. This really is the special treatment!

I thank him, and he replies with a delighted nod. My weird mind produces an image of Parker, Lady Penelope’s driver from Thunderbirds and I imagine Gary wearing similar attire. The thought makes me laugh, but luckily he doesn’t see me.

He drives off, leaving me stood alone in the middle of the empty driveway.

I didn’t expect it to be like this at all. I had imagined a swarm of screaming fans surrounding the entrance, screaming for One Direction…and Matt, Rebecca and Cher, of course. But there aren’t any fans to be seen.

All in all, everything is quiet.

Well, that’s what I thought.

Out of the corner of my eye I see blinds twitching upstairs in the house.

When I look up I see two faces disappearing behind the thin slits. Very creepy.

At the other side of the house, the curtains flutter, revealing a face I recognise, big brown eyes staring down at me. I wave at Liam, and he smiles back shyly, before letting the curtains hide him from view.

I feel a stab of hatred, but then immediately dismiss it. Liam doesn’t hate me, I haven’t done anything. Except ignore every message he sent… He’s just being wary of Harry, I bet, and I don’t blame him.

I draw my eyes away from the window where Liam previously was, and spy the large wooden front door. The glass around it is blurry, so I can’t see if there are any more faces lurking behind it, so I’m ever so slightly worried…

Taking a deep breath, I walk towards it.

I stare at the ground, counting the steps I take until my alarm wakes me up and I find out that it’s Tuesday morning again, meaning I ‘d have college in two hours.

But it’s not my alarm that wakes me from my dozy sleepwalking, it’s the large wooden front door flying open and banging against the doorstop on the inside.

Standing in the hall, complete with huge smile lighting up his perfect face, is Harry.

I run to him, not caring about how stupid I look, and wrap my arms around his neck. I don’t plan on letting him go for a while.