Chapter 11.

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No one else seems to have a problem with the noise. The music is so loud. I even see a few people with ear plugs, but when I try to ask where they got them, they pretend like they can't hear me. Hilarious. I was hoping that my cardigan would make the adults accept me as one of their own, but it doesn't seem to be doing anything.

Cheryl and a few of the make-up artists are the only ones who talk to me. When I hear the opening band leave the stage I explore the arena--backstage passes are magical keys--and even climb up to one of the catwalks for the lights. When my fear of heights gets me I crawl back down.

Someone hands me a fluorescent vest, and points me toward the meet and greet. I wasn't paying attention, though, so I end up standing in line with the vibrant, lively, expectant concert goers.

I miss Britt.

I miss my mom.

Niall and Liam sneak up behind us to surprise everyone. How have these guys gone so long without getting mauled to death?

There's a corner of the room where I position myself, and it's from there that I watch Harry walk in, his smile bright.

Is he faking with me when his face says otherwise? Or is this the lie?

His hugs are brief but solid, his laughs sound genuine.

He glances at me once, and his face freezes. For a second. Then he nods.

I return the gesture, then look down.

On my tablet I make the briefest of observations, labelling the night with words no more meaningful than "happy" and "excited" and "crowded."

I decide, now, that this book will be about the people. Not the band. In a different file, I storyboard the beginning. It comes easily.

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Harry POV

"Tell me you're kidding."

Rob, our tour manager, frowns at me. "It's not my fault that this is what the label decided to do. Other than that, I'm just doing my job." He starts walking down the hallway, away from the dressing rooms. I want to yell at him, but don't, knowing that yelling off stage is the equivalent to forced house arrest to preserve my vocal chords.

"These guys are creeps!" I follow him.

"What, afraid they're going to hit on you or something?"

I'm thinking about them harassing someone else.

"I'm saying that we shouldn't set a precedent to be supporting convicted sexual--"

"Be careful about what you're saying. Not convicted. Only arrested on suspicion."

I'm about to pull the hair out of my scalp. "Listen to what you're saying! They're criminals, we can't let them walk around here--" My own thoughts break my speech. The last time I was near them was different; I didn't have anything to worry about. Anyone.

"Back to Bourke are musicians the same as you," He enters a room off to the side.

"Not the same as me." I interrupt.

"Tonight, you're all commodities. You're all celebrities. Now go do whatever it is we pay you for. Break some hearts. Wink at some chicks." He closes his office door.

I kick the wall. I'm so close to finding the number Aidan called from when she returned Niall's phone to tell her that the plans have changed and she should just stay at the hotel when I walk into our dressing room.

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