Twist Of Fate

Concert

We reach the arena an hour before the show starts. I've never been to a concert. However, I do know that any arena that hosts a One Direction concert gets filled up hours before the concert starts. Hell, it fills up hours before half of the staff even arrives. True to my knowledge, the parking lot surrounding the arena is filled already, which means that almost everybody is here. Gregg finds a parking space after circling the parking lot five, six times. He wedges his black Audi between a Land Cruiser, and a Range Rover.
"You should've asked Harry to reserve you a parking space." I say, laughing as poor Gregg tries to squeeze his car into the space, without scratching the sides.
"Now you tell me," Gregg murmurs. Once he's parked his car, Gregg and I try to get out without touching the doors with the two cars that are on either side of his. So far I'm not enjoying myself. But I'm sure the evening will get better. Gregg and I make our way toward the arena's entrance. Our tickets are checked, and a young lady with a radiant smile guides us to our seats. The rows are already full. There's barely enough oxygen in this place. The stage is pretty close to us. If not for the barricades lying in front of the stage, I could touch it. The excitement in this arena is palpable. Girls, and boys are already squealing. Yeah, there will be a lot of yelling tonight. Even from me.
"When are they starting?" Gregg asks me impatiently.
"We're an hour early. We only killed about fifteen to twenty minutes in the parking lot, trust me we have a lot of time until they start." I say, my eyes wandering over the large crowd that has assembled to watch four boys perform. A two hour concert is so important to all of us. I realize one thing as I'm standing here, nobody cares about their race, religion, or culture. We're all Directioners, who are here to see a band that makes us smile, that makes us feel special. It's a beautiful sight. Many people have something signifying One Direction painted on their faces, arms, on posters that are in their hands. Other people are wearing One Direction shirts, jackets, jeans, shoes.
"I don't think I can stand this heat for another two and a half hours." Gregg pulls his shirt back and forth, flapping it against his chest.
"It's not that hot, Gregg, stop being a diva." I roll my eyes and take out my phone from my purse. Deciding to spend time by going through Twitter, I open the app and start scrolling. Behind me, and beside me, people are taking selfies, or pictures. I would do that, but I'm not a person who likes taking pictures. Every time I take a photo of myself, I look worse than my usual self. So I don't anymore. Before I know it, the lights dim slightly and I know it's time. It's time for the concert to begin, for the boys to come on stage. My heart starts beating rapidly against my rib cage and my palms start sweating. I shake my head and wipe them against the sides of my dress. My palms always begin to sweat when I'm nervous. Why the heck am I nervous? Suddenly, the boys pop up from the floor of the stage, huge grins on each of their faces. I love the fact that the boys are always so full of energy. Harry begins the concert with 'Best Song Ever'. A girl to my right faints, and her friend catches her before she falls flat on the floor. After that, my eyes are transfixed on the boys until the concert ends. I feel someone's hand shake my shoulder. Snapping out of my trance, I turn my head. Gregg is looking at me with an amused smile adorning his face.
"Mus, are we done staring at an empty stage?" Gregg asks me. I smack his arm, laughing.
"Yes, we are. Are we going backstage now?" I say, glancing around at the dispersing crowd.
"Yeah, unless you want to stare at the stage some more." I roll my eyes and ignore him, heading toward the aisle. "I can wait!" Gregg chuckles from behind me, as I continue down the aisle, completely ignoring him.
"Mus, wrong way!" Gregg yells from behind me. I turn around to find him pointing toward the opposite direction to where I was headed. I cross my arms across my chest and head toward Gregg. I'm lost because One Direction's spell is still affecting my brain. It's not really my fault that I'm in a faze. We head toward the side of the stage, and Gregg shows our backstage passes to a burly man in black. When the man sees our passes, he purses his lips and guides our through a door. The least he can do is smile. Though it must be tough containing so many hormonal, teenage girls. I glance around the room that we're in. It's walls are black, and it has a grey carpet on the floor. There's a small table in the corner with a jar of cookies on it, a thermos, and a few plastic cups lying on it. Some girls and boys are standing in one corner, phones ready to start snapping pictures the minute One Direction come in. I can feel my heart beats in my ears, and my chest. I inhale and exhale long deep breaths. This is not normal. I'm hyperventilating. I might even be having a panic attack, or a nervous breakdown. Though why I'm feeling those three emotions beats me. I place my hands on my knees and bend forward, my eyes at level with my legs.
"Are you okay?" That bloody voice! I shake my head, shutting my eyes tightly. This is not how I wanted to meet Harry Styles again. However, God up there, wants me to embarrass myself to a huge extent in front of Harry. I want to stand up straight. However, I can't. I just can't. I'm stuck. My palms are glued to my knees, and my head isn't lifting up. Someone places their hand on my back, and rubs it back and forth, soothingly. "Get some water." I can hear girls squealing, but their voices are in the background. I'm only focusing on calming myself down. "Here, drink." A cup is thrust in front of my face, and I manage to lift up my arm and take it.
"Thank you," I murmur. I gulp down the water and crush the plastic cup in my hand. It crackles and the sound is oddly relaxing.
"Better?" Harry asks.
"Yeah, slightly." I whisper, straightening up. I turn around, coming face to face with Harry. His face is surprisingly close to mine, and I'm staring straight into his green eyes. Harry smiles at me, and removes his hand from my back. "Thanks."
"No problem," Harry says. I take a step back, slinging my bag over my shoulders and neck.
"I have never seen her like this, Harry. I guess you really do have an effect on girls," Gregg says. I swear if I had a wrench, a knife, or even a gun, Gregg would be lying dead on the floor right now. In fact, my bare hands would do because I can strangle him. Harry smiles and looks down at his boots. I, too, divert my gaze toward his boots. They're brown, and they look worn out. I furrow my brows and look back up. Harry's staring at me, his eyes scanning my face.
"Harry, get over here!" If I'm not mistaken that voice belongs to Niall's.
"Y-Yeah," Harry says. "Excuse me." He walks over to where Niall, Liam and Louis are standing with girls on either side of them, ready to snap a picture. The boys take photos with several girls and boys and then once everyone's left, Harry jogs over to where Gregg and I are standing.
"Sorry for the wait, but you're my friends and I'm sure you understand." Harry says, his eyes sweeping between Gregg and I. I nod my head, and Gregg smiles, slapping his hand on Harry's back.
"Of course we do, Harry!" Gregg says. "Listen, it's around dinner time. Want to grab something?" Harry seems to ponder for a bit.
"I don't think that I can go out for dinner. But you guys can come to our hotel and order room service with me," Harry offers.
"Sure." Gregg says, without hesitating. God, he's desperate to eat a meal with Harry. Who wouldn't be?
"Gregg, can I take your car and go home?" I ask him.
"Why aren't you coming with us?" Harry says, furrowing his brow.
"Oh, I don't think that I should-"
"Of course, you should!" Gregg exclaims, a little too loudly.
"Yeah, you should." Harry says.
"I-"
"I insist." Harry looks at me expectantly, a sweet, genuine smile lighting up his already handsome face.
"Fine," I sigh. Who can say no to those green eyes and gorgeous dimples?