Snapshot » l.t.

Chapter 7

Chapter 7



Louis' POV



"I still can't believe we have to go to a photo shoot at eight in the morning," Zayn groaned, tilting his head towards the roof of the car. "I'm still suffering from jet lag."

"We all are," Liam pointed out. "And we're not complaining. You can rest when we get back."

"But I won't be tired then!"

As the two argued, Harry leaned over and whispered in my ear, "While they're going at it, do you think anything will get done?"

I shook my head and shrugged slightly. "I don't know," I replied just as quietly. "Probably not. We'll give the poor photographers a migraine."

Harry grinned. "Do you think there'll be any hot ones?" he asked excitedly, and I rolled my eyes. "Doubtful," I retorted. "And besides, why would you want to date a photographer? Especially one that is affiliated with paparazzi?" Harry nodded resentfully in agreement.

We just wanted to get this photo shoot done with. We didn't need any trouble on our hands, especially with paparazzi. We were already beyond annoyed with them.

"Will there be food there?" Niall asked.

"Hopefully," Harry said. "I'm hungry."

"They always have food there," Liam said. "You guys will be fine."

"Are we there yet?" I yelled at Paul for the hundredth time.

"No," he replied calmly. See, this was why I loved Paul. No matter how annoying we were, he'd put up with us. But, at the same time, that kind of annoyed me.

"But we're almost there," Paul added.

"Really?" Zayn asked. "How much longer?"

"Maybe five minutes."

We whooped and settled back in our seats. That car ride was long. So long, in fact, my foot had fallen asleep. I jiggled it to wake it up, but got pins-and-needles instead. I hate that.

Four minutes later, we stopped in a parking garage and went to the building next door, the studio. I was limping the whole way, and Niall glanced at me. "Pins-and-needles," I told him, and he nodded in understanding. He let me use his shoulder for balance.

We went up to the front desk lady in the lobby. "Hello," Paul rumbled. "What room is the photo shoot for One Direction at?"

She looked up dully. Harry visibly grimaced. She was a makeup nightmare. "Studio 12," she replied.

"Where is that?"

"Take the elevator up to the second floor. Walk down five rooms, and in the sixth room you'll find your studio."

"Great, thanks," Paul said and we somehow managed to cram all of us into the tiny elevator.

"My foot hurts," I complained.

"It'll get better if you walk on it," Paul told me. Niall moved away from me, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

The elevator doors opened, and we followed Paul down to the sixth room. The studio inside looked pretty dull, but our stage was all set and ready to go.

"There are only three makeup stations," Liam noted. "Who wants to go first?"

"They will," Harry and I said simultaneously, pointing at Niall and Zayn. "You will, too," I added to Liam. He rolled his eyes, but dragged Niall and Zayn along with him, who both didn't look happy with the arrangement.

Harry and I wandered around the studio, gazing around. "It's dark in here," Harry noted.

"It'll get brighter when the photo shoot starts," I reminded him.

I noticed that, besides us, there were only two other people here: the aged makeup artist, and a pretty girl about my age speculating some light thing. She must be the electrician, though she didn't look it.

"Hey, check this out!" Harry exclaimed behind me, and I turned around. "What?" I asked, frowning at the thing he was staring at it. "It's just a light switch thing."

But it was different from other light switches. There were multiples of them, and some were pulled out and hanging by cables. They were jumbled around and tangled.

"I don't think so," Harry disagreed. "Watch this." Before I could stop him, he played with one of the switches. A camera started whizzing around, whipping back and forth, depending on the way Harry was messing with the switch.

"Oh, cool," I said enthusiastically. "Let me try." I took the one he was playing with and spun it around the studio. Nobody noticed it. We snickered.

"What about that one over there?" Harry asked, pointing at the ceiling. I followed his finger and spotted a really cool array of cameras all facing different directions. "Imagine how many pictures they could take with that thing," Harry mused.

I glanced back at the switches, and followed with my eyes a cable that attached itself to the ceiling and connected to the display. At least, I thought it did. It was too dark to tell, but I was pretty sure.

"It's this one," Harry said, pointing to a different switch that I wasn't looking at.

"No, it isn't," I objected. "It's this one." I pointed to the one I had been looking at it.

"No, it's not," Harry argued.

"Yes, it is."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Here, I'll prove it to you!" I exclaimed, and flicked the switch that was bound to be connected to the cameras.

"Stop!" a man yelled, and we turned around, but it was already too late.

I would regret that mistake for the rest of my life.

Something flashed behind us, and I heard a blood-curdling scream. I flinched and spun around. The electrician was illuminated by the light, and she was staring straight into the light thing, where the light was coming from. She didn't close her eyes. Only then did I notice the camera around her neck. So she wasn't the electrician....

"Turn it off!" someone grunted near me, and I was shoved to the side. A man that was dressed like an electrician turned the switch off, and the girl collapsed to her knees, clawing at her eyes. We raced towards her, but she fell backward and didn't move. Was she dead?

Did I kill her?

That thought nearly stopped my heart from beating. That had appeared from nowhere. But this was my fault. The awful truth dawned on me. That switch I flipped had turned the light on, the one the girl was staring at, and now she could be dead....

We knelt beside her, and the man felt her pulse. Up close, she was beautiful. She had wavy-ish reddish brown hair that curled at the ends. Her face was round, her lips full, and her figure slightly curvy.

"She's alive," the electrician announced, snapping me out of my revere. I breathed a sigh of relief. That was close. But she was unconscious, and we probably had to take her to the hospital.

But before I could suggest this, the man turned on me and Harry, who was with me. "What do you think you were doing?" he exploded. "Don't touch something that is unknown to you! You could have killed her!"

I winced, and Harry moved behind me. Now we didn't only have trouble with paparazzi, but with electricians, too. What was with these people?

"The worst that could happen is that she could be blind now," the electrician continued, and I stiffened. I could responsible for that? I could responsible for ruining this girl's life with darkness?

I looked down at her body guiltily. I'm sorry... for whatever that could be my fault, I thought. After all, her being blind hadn't been confirmed yet.

"Louis! Harry!" a familiar voice shouted, and Paul appeared between us and the electrician. "What's going on here?" he demanded.

"Louis flicked a switch that he thought was connected to a camera but instead turned on a light that girl was looking at and now she's unconscious and she might be blind according to this guy," Harry said all in one breath, occasionally pointing to me or the electrician. I glared at him.

Paul glared at me for a bit, but then looked down at the girl with concern. "I can lecture you later," he said. "Right now we have to get this girl to the hospital!"

"I'm coming with," I said firmly.

"No, you're not," Paul disagreed. "You need to stay here and participate in the photo shoot."

"Who cares about the stupid photo shoot?" I exclaimed. "This is all my fault! And I think she was supposed to be our photographer!" I pointed to the camera around her neck. Paul gently removed it and shoved it into my hands.

"What's your name?" he asked the electrician.

"Erik," he replied.

"Why are you here?"

"To fix the broken light those morons turned on."

I clenched my fists but didn't say anything. I didn't need to cause any more trouble.

"Tell your boss or whoever you're working for at the moment that there's been some trouble," Paul ordered. "Tell the front desk that we're taking one of their photographers to the hospital." Erik nodded and skittered off.

Paul picked up the girl and carried her like he would to a baby. Liam, Niall, and Zayn were still by the makeup artists, but Harry ran over to get them.

Soon we were rushing out of the studio and to the hospital. I kept glancing at the girl and biting my lip nervously. By the time we got to the hospital, I could taste blood.

I prayed that the girl wasn't blind. I hoped that she would be alright.

This was all my fault....