The Story of Georgia Rose (A Harry/One Direction Fan-fiction)

Chapter 1

Georgia

My eyes burst open. I looked out the window. It was too light outside. I turned to my clock. My eyes were so tired and my vision was blurred. I could barely see, but it was already 8:30. I was supposed to be at my interview at 8:00. The makeup crew for the Beacon Theatre is hiring and I have an interview, my one true passion and dream job.

 I threw on some clothes; I didn’t have time to do my makeup. It’s a good thing I have short hair otherwise I would have to style it. I grabbed a banana and a coffee to go. It was a 30 minute drive from Elmont to Manhattan, if there was no traffic. Traffic wasn’t too bad. I was 10 miles over the speed limit, but I decided to slow down when a bird hit my windshield.

When I arrived at the Beacon Theatre it was already 9:17. Mr. James Bullard, the head of the makeup department, was leaving the theatre and crawling into his Mustang.

I have always loved makeup. When I graduate this year I want to study special effects makeup and beauty makeup. I want to do makeup for movies, shows, and pretty much anything.

I ran towards James and raised my arm. “Mr. Bullard! Please tell me I still have a chance for the job.”

“I’m sorry Miss Mitchell. We have already chosen our new assistant.” He stepped into his car and drove away.

I wanted to break down right there, in the middle of the sidewalk, where literally everyone could see me. I stayed strong and waited until I got in my car. It’s not like this is my last chance right? Right. I am only 18. It is not like I don’t have any other opportunities in life.

I blasted my one direction CD and started yelling, “I WANT, I WANT, I WANT, THAT STUPID JOB!” I just sunk into my car horn and everyone starred. I needed that job. As I lifted up my head, I saw Mr. Bullard’s keys on the pavement. I hesitated whether or not I should get them. I got out and started towards the keys. I picked them up and called him immediately. After about two rings, he answered.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Bullard, you dropped your keys at the Beacon Theatre. It’s Georgia’

I heard him gasp then say. “Oh Georgia, darling! Thank goodness you got them! Some stranger could have taken them.” He seemed little too happy.

“Where should we meet so you can get them?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention, I am in the middle of traffic, heading to JFK. I’ll be spending the net two weeks or so, in Milan. Would you please hold onto them?”

“Sure, but what are the keys for?” I asked.

“They just give me access to the Theatre’s makeup department.

“Ok, have a nice trip.” With that, I hung up.

I threw the keys into the cup holder. I started driving home. “Ugh. Would you hold onto them?” I said in a gay, diva accent. “What does he want me to do? Give it a spa day? Cook it meals?” I realized while talking to my self, I had access to the beacon theatre. This power should only be abused under heavy circumstances.

When I arrived home, my best friend, Milo, was waiting in the drive way. I won’t tell her about the keys. It could be dangerous. She was carrying balloons and a white box from 31 flavors. I knew then, Milo was about to kill me with ignorance.

“Yay! I knew you could do it! I’m so proud of you! One Direction is watching you from afar, talking about how awesome and beautiful you are.” She said.

“I hope you brought two pints of ice cream because-“Milo cut me off.

            “Of course I bought ice cream! Is ice cream cake ok? If so, that’s already done.”