One In A Million

xxvi

"Simon says you have a press conference this morning then a dinner with your next songwriter this evening." Zayn stated plainly as he shuffled into the living room, staring at his phone.

I sat up abrubtly, choking on my own spit, "Dude!? Why didn't he call me!?"

Zayn looked up and gave me a look, "Because you slept in."

I gave a sheepish grin, "That's nice."

"Not nice," Liam charged into the living room and shut the TV off, "You need to be more responsible, James."

At least he didn''t call me Lily, eh?

I nodded and sat up, "Sorry, Liam. I'm going to get ready."

"Wait!" Niall shouted from the kitchen, "Come!"

Sighing, I trudged into the kitchen and snatched the coffee from him before running back upstairs. I chugged the scalding liquid, sighed and fell to my bed. But then Liam's voice rang in my head, sending me into the shower quickly. It being nine-thirty as I got out of the shower, I huffed and ran to my closet.

The dress I picked was a short sleeveless, bright yellow dress. After I painted my nails an identical yellow, I struggled to pull my tan tights around my legs. This made me giggle. I sported three rings: a silver ring with a weave texture, a thick blue and silver one with the word 'Guess' in the center, then lastly a thin silver one lined with half-real diamonds. I finished with a pair of light blue peep-toe heels which matched the ring.

I plopped myself in front of my vanity then waterfall braided my hair. After staring at myself for what seemed like forever,  I used my eyeliner pen to trace the rim of my eyelids, finishing the look I wanted. "You guys ready?" I screamed from my doorway as I shut my phone off and fixed the ankle of my heels.

"Yes!" they yelled back. I nodded and ran down the stairs. In the car, we talked for a while, conversing over the matter of the press conference, when my phone went off loudly.

"Sorry," I mouthed and answered it, "Hello?"

"Miss Stomp? I needed someone to talk to . . . I thought I could turn to you . . . " Mark stayed so quiet on the other end.

"Mark, call me Lily. What's wrong? What happened?" I whispered, my face clouding over in worry.

The boys stopped talking and turned to me. "You knew my wife was pregnant, right? Well, our little girl died today . . . My wife was only four months along . . . " he broke into angry sobs.

I had to purse my lips and squeeze my eyelids shut to stop myself from crying, "Mark . . . . "

"I don't even know what happened! No one does! But I think I do . . . . I think it's my fault. I should've been there for her . . . "

The tears came down rapidly, "Would you listen to yourself? This isn't your fault. Hang in there, Mark. I'm so sorry . . . I can't be with you right now, but call me at any time, okay?"

He hiccuped and sniffed, "Thank you, Lily." he hung up, as did I.

"What happened?" Liam asked, tilting his head.

"A grown man just called me in tears. His unborn baby died only a few hours ago . . . It's not fair!" I exclaimed.

Zayn pursed his lips and shook his head, "No, it's not."

I sighed as I watched out the window, "We're here and I'm late. Come on." Opening the door, I gave a weak, closed-mouth smile to my fans, my eyes covered by hair and sunglasses as I walked into the business building.

The press was already situated in their seats, most of my team was already in the fold-able chairs on the stage thing. The boys sat to the side, watching, as I got onto the wooden stage and sat down in the middle. In front of me was a bottle of water, a paper with the questions they usually asked and a small mic on its base.