Everywhere I looked, left; right; front; back, all I saw was the same thing. Screaming fan girls. Some screeching the lyrics in a voice that should be illegal. Others crying tears of enjoyment, seeing their everything up on the shimmery platform. And some, were just, well... Plain lunatics. Now I understand why all the security is needed. I still don't think its enough. An army of 100 pound teenage girls could easily put the buff men in hospitals, even worse; 6 feet underground.
And I, well I was stuck in the mess of it all. I lived though. Not a very nice time to be living at the moment though. I honestly didn't hate being here, I'm just not that big of a pop- junkie. I'd choose alternative over bubble gum pop any day. But, sadly I'm stuck listening to five men sing about finding love in a club.
"Story of my life,
I take her home.
I drive all night
to keep her warm,
and time..
Is frooooozen."
So wish I was dead at the moment. But, thanks to a big ass wipe, I'm stuck here for who knows how much longer. I owe my pain to Trisha. If she hadn't had offered me the new box of Oreos, I'd be home right now watching 21 Jump Street. Oh, Channing Tatum..
"I'd like to make a special announcement." one of the guys said, the crowds automatically hushing, except for a few arrogant souls still screaming. I squirmed in my seat, uncomfortable as heck. Who makes chairs out of freezing metal? Obviously the dimwits that build this stadium.
"We were just informed, that a few lucky fans out there tonight.." another one of the members began. How long does this 'special announcement' take? It's probably going to be another one of those 'meet a random fan' things. Oh, what a joy to be a part of this Reaping. I'd rather be in the Hunger Games Reaping. At least that way I could kill myself without anyone stopping me.
"Are going to get a chance to hang out with us back stage!" the first, original you could call it, finished. Well, what do you know. I was right, again. Let's just hope I'm not one of those people. If I was, I don't know what I'd do. Kill myself with the tall one's jaw bone? Let's go with that.
"We are going to pull the section and seat numbers out of this.." he said, grabbing an Abraham Lincoln styled hat from a man off stage. He awkwardly walked back to the middle of the stage with the massive head wear.
"Out of this hat!" he exclaimed, motioning another member over to him. Then, pulling out a few pieces of paper, reminding me a lot of bingo at the senior center, cleared his throat. "Section B, seats 236, 257, and 293." they began. Knowing this would take a while, I curled into my seat, pulling my hoodie over my legs.
"Section F," they started up again. Then, realizing that I was in Section F, I pleaded they didn't call seat 647. "seats 672, 605, and 648." I sighed in relief. Then, like a firework, Trisha jumped up in excitement. She's seat 648. How amazing, I have no ride home because of her miracle.
"You are coming backstage with me!" She said to mean in a breathy tone, seeing as she was practically hyperventilating. I shook my head 'no' vigorously. Then, realizing who I was telling this to, I halted and slumped into my seat. I guess I'm meeting One Direction tonight.
"After these next few songs, the lucky fans will meet us backstage." And with that, they began the music up again, signaling for boys to get in place for the rest of the show's performance. This night is just crackers and cheese, don't you think so?
.............................................................................................
A/N: So that's Chapter One! I'm not sure if I'm going to continue on with this one yet. Next chapter should be posted by Friday at the latest. -Cinnamon :3
