Harry Styles Point of View
“OI LOUIS GET UP! WE’VE GOTTA GET TO THE STUDIOS, SOMETHING ABOUT A BAND MEETING” I screamed through the spacious flat I live in with Louis Tomlinson, my band mate. After waiting a few seconds I got up off the kitchen counter, put down my bowl of cereal, and ran into Louis’ room without bothering to knock. I found Louis wrapped up in his sheets letting out an almost inaudible snore.
“LOUIS!” That’s pretty much all it took to get him to jump up and scream “IM HERE, IM AWAKE” with eyes these size of saucepans. I chuckled and proceeded to inform him of the band meeting we needed to be at in approximately half an hour. At that, he scrambled out of bed and told me to leave the room unless I wanted a good view of his “Lollipop” which of course I would rather not see.
Once Louis was up, dressed, and ready we ran down the stairs to where my car awaited us. I slid the keys to the ignition and blasted the radio. The car quickly filled up with the sound of Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way” and Louis and I screamed out the lyrics the whole ride to the management office.
Almost the second we got inside we knew exactly where to go, mainly because of the screams of a certain Irish boy demanding Nandos. “I DON’T CARE WHAT TIME IT IS, I WANT MY-“ Niall yelled, but was cut off by the entrance of Louis and me. “Hey Harry, hey Louis” Liam said as he glared at Niall. We looked around the modernly designed waiting room. The walls were painted a blinding white and red and green velvet furniture littered the wooden floors. Upon one of the green couches sat the fifth and final member of our band, One Direction, Zayn. I sent a nod over to him and he responded back with a small nod of his head before returning his eyes to his phone.
Rude.
I quickly brushed it off. “So guys, any idea why were here?” I asked looking around at the four boys. Each shook their head but before anyone could respond the door to the office labeled “Courtney Turner” swiftly opened revealing our manager, Courtney Turner herself.
Taylor Point of View (4 months earlier)
I walked down the crowded streets of Nashville, Tennessee holding only my guitar and cellphone, passing hundreds of people just like me, aspiring musicians with the only thought of maybe someday being accepted and receiving a record deal.
I was like all of them.
I turned a corner and came up to the now familiar, Bluebird Café. It was the perfect time, right when all the scouts came around but also before a big line could form. I quickly ran up to the front desk and asked to play a couple songs. I was 3rd up. I decided it might be a small wait and situated myself at a small table where one other man sat with a button down shirt and khaki pants. I’m a regular here at the Bluebird, and I didn’t recognize him, so I decided that I would be polite and introduce myself.
“Hi! Im Taylor, Taylor Swift.” I smiled at him and he looked up at me and returned the smile “Are you new here? Are you gonna play?” I asked trying to spark a conversation. He chuckled, “Nice to meet you Taylor,” immediately I could tell something was off…maybe it was his voice. OH! That’s it! He has an accent, a british one! We don’t hear many around here in the south so it was a welcome surprise. “Nah, Im not playing, but I am new here, just looking for some talent. How bout you, are you going to sing?” he asked, looking down at where I set my guitar. “Ya, Im 17, I write songs.” I said looking up at the stage where a woman just finished playing a John Mayer song.
“TAYLOR SWIFT?” my name blasted throught the speakers slightly alarming my newfound English friend and me. I unpacked my guitar and ran up to the stage, sitting down on the stool. “Hi everyone, Im Taylor Swift, Im seventeen and I write songs.” I said the words I repeated all too often in front of the mirror into the microphone. The familiar touch of my guitar strings and my pick strumming along to the chords slowly calmed down my racing heart and sent me into what I call heaven. The lyrics of my song “Tim McGraw” made their way onto my lips and I began to sing to my audience of about 50 people.
When you think Tim Mcgraw
I hope you think my favorite song
The one we danced to all night long
The moon like a spotlight on the lake
And, as soon as I started, the song came to an end. I was brought back to reality by the overwhelming applause I was receiving from the spectators.
I led myself back to my seat and packed up my guitar, slowly walking out the door like every other day. Except today everything changed. “Taylor! Taylor wait up!” I heard my name called and swiveled around. I saw the British guy I had sat with earlier racing after me. “Hey whats up?” I asked.
“You were spectacular Taylor! Did you write that whole song by yourself?” He asked me, I giggled and nodded “Yup, all by myself.” I responded. He whipped a card out of his pocket and handed it to me, “Meet me at Syco Records tomorrow at 10. Don’t be late, you wont regret it.” He said before quickly turning around and heading towards his fancy Porshe. I was awestruck to say the least. I turned the card over in my hand and glanced at the name, it read “Ralf White”. This is about the same time I screamed and jumped around looking like a complete idiot to the people surrounding me.
Maybe I was different than all these people, maybe, just maybe I could be special.
(The next day)
My mother, Andrea, and father, Scott, and little sister, Thalia, were absolutely ecstatic with my news. At 9:45 I was bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready for my first meeting with an actual record label. I sat shotgun in my moms car as we turned a corner and was met with a big sign reading “SYCO RECORDS” I squealed and pointed at the sign showing my mom. We parked outside and quickly made our way in through the big glass doors to a white reception area. We walked over to the woman at the desk and told her who I was and who sent me. She then told us to walk into the first door on the right.
We walked into the office where I was met with the face of the man I had met yesterday. Remember him? English accent. Not too hard to forget. “Oh Taylor, welcome please take a seat,” He motioned to the two cushioned seats placed in front of his mahogany desk, “you must be her mother!” He held out his hand and my mother shook it, he then proceeded, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, now lets get down to business. I saw Taylor yesterday at the Bluebird Café and I must say, I was quite surprised. I would like to offer you, Taylor, a record deal with the record company I work for, Syco Records. A Mr. Simon Cowell runs the label in London, but we have offices all over the world. If you do choose to accept our offer, you have no guarantee you will be staying in the country though. I’ll give you some time to discuss. Meet me back here in an hour.”
What. Did that really just happen? Is this real? Someone pinch me.
(Two hours and three phone calls later)
I had a record deal. Me, Taylor Swift. I couldn’t believe it. I was told that if I write enough GOOD songs over the next 2 weeks and I release a single of “Tim McGraw” and IF I get good ratings I MAYBE could open for a band. BRB gonna go write some amazing songs.
Harry POV
“Please boys take a seat.” Courtney motioned to the five seats that were neatly put next to each other in a row in front of her desk. I took a seat in the one in the middle. “So I would like to announce to you that we have decided…to give you guys an American Tour.” Before she could finish all five of us were jumping up and down in an embrace, screaming and laughing out of pure happiness. This would be our first tour. Finally. “BOYS. Calm down, heres the catch.” We looked at each other nervously. A catch, theres always a freakin catch. “We need to start promoting our less well known artists, new ones. So, you will be sharing the tour with someone. Were not quite sure yet but we have some in mind.” Well of course. Its not too bad, as long as the person wasn’t a total bitch. “So who dow you think it would be?” I squeaked out. “We are deciding between Laura Hue, Donny Riwet, and…a miss…
Taylor Swift.”
