"Hi, is Marco here?" I ask with forced happiness. The lady sitting at the desk held her finger up and continued talking on the phone. I rolled my eyes. Come on it takes 2.3 seconds to answer that question. You could even just simply nod. I looked around to satisfy my boredom as she talked with the person on the phone. The clicking of her foot-long acrylic nails on the keyboard made me want to rip her fingers off at the knuckles. I always hated fake nails. How they looked, how they felt, how they sounded when they touched anything. They were an absolute annoyance to ever have on. I continued my search for something to kill my boredom. My eyes wandered to her name tag. It read the name 'Vada.'
Curious. I had a friend once who was dead set on naming her baby girl Vada. I admit, I wouldn't name my daughter that, but it's original. I wouldn't have thought of it. I let out a small laugh and shook my head. We had lots of conversations when we were younger about what we were going to name our kids. She was one hundred percent positive that he was going to marry Zayn and have a baby girl named Vada. Now I know the boys! Who woulda thought? Who woulda thought I'd be waiting for a lady with blood red acrylic nails to tell me where Marco's room is. Not me. That's for sure.
I always hoped I'd meet the boys someday though. My best friends and I always talked about it. What we'd ask them if we met them. How we'd act. I used to read all these dumbass fan fictions about the boys where the girls who met them would "play it cool" and then all of a sudden they were in love. I never really liked those. I liked the more realistic ones. The ones with drama. But not too much, especially relationship drama. Oh my god! I hated those. Oh! And then when--
My thoughts were cut off by the lady practically slamming her desk phone onto the receiver.
"Can I help you?" She snorted, her jersey accent shining through so bright it was almost a necessity to have sunglasses on. I flashed her a fake smile.
"Yeah I need to know if Marco is here." Another smile. I'm pretty sure Marco wouldn't want visitors so I had to try and get on this lady's good side.
"Are you here for an appointment?" She pursed her lips as she asked the question. Almost like the 'duck face' thing was stuck to her lips. It was funny really. I had to suppress a laugh.
"No," I started, but I was cut off.
"No appointment, no visit." She said flatly then started typing again. God I hate those nails. I had to clench my jaw and intertwine my fingers to keep from taking a pen and staking her hands to the desk. Or to keep from saying I'll stake her hands to the desk.
"You don't understand," I said, "this is an important matter of business. I would like to talk to Marco about some decisions he's made regarding the band One Direction." I tried my best to sound intelligent. I'd gotten dressed up so the receptionist would think I'm professional, it'd be no use to ruin it now by talking how I would normally talk.
"No appointment, no visit." She said again without looking up at me.
"If I could just..."
"No appointment, no visit. Marco is a very busy business man." She said rather harshly. I cringed as she said 'business man.' Yeah he's such a good business man. Because kicking Lou out of One Direction is a GREAT idea. Ugh.
"Please," I was starting to feel desperate. "Just give me five minutes with Marco and I'll be gone." She looked up at me through her eye lashes, let out a sigh and rolled her eyes.
"Room 203." I flashed a smile again, except this time it was real. She seemed relieved to get me out of her hair.
"Thank you." I said a little happier than I should've. But who cares? I'm about to go see Marco. I turned and walked away from the desk. There were a couple halls marked with numbers and an elevator. I assumed 203 would be on the second floor, so I made my way to the elevator. This should be fun...
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