Camp Direction

Prologue

"What do you think happened?" a familiar Irish accent chirped, waking the darker skinned boy from his slumber. He sat up and rubbed his eyes with his fists, taking in the sight before him. His fellow band mates were sitting around the room, anxious looks plastered upon their faces.

"I'm not too sure," a boy with a heavy English accent groaned from a corner. "Something about two months off was all I heard."

"Two months off?" a brown haired, blue eyed boy jumped at his own words, gripping the sides of his chair in excitement. He was missing his family dearly, especially his four younger sisters, Lottie, Felicite, Daisy, and Phoebe.

"Don't get your hopes up, Lou," the curly haired one scoffed at the brown haired, blue eyed boy. "I don't think Management would let us off the hook that easily."

"Niall, stop chewing on that plastic spoon. It's freaking me out," the heavy accented boy, otherwise known as Liam, told the Irish one, backing away slowly at the sight of a spoon. His abnormal fear was not helping at all. Niall had finished his apple sauce earlier, and Liam, the heavy accented one, wondered why he still had the spoon.

"Sorry," Niall whined, throwing the chewed up piece of plastic in a nearby bin. He looked over at the dark skinned boy, beginning to imitate his tiredness. He squinted and swayed back and forth on his chair, accidently falling. "Oi!"

"What goes around comes around," the dark skinned boy, or Zayn, said, blinking a few times and yawning. He stared around the conference room for something to drink and satisfy his thirst, but found nothing. It's as if they're keeping us prisoner, he thought, staring around at his band mates.

"Louis finished the water bottles. All of them," the curly haired one, or Harry, said, giving Louis a death glare.

"It's supposed to hydrate the skin!" Louis retaliated, slapping his hands to his cheeks. It wasn't his fault he was afraid of getting older. Aging was his biggest fear of all.

"Quiet, all of you!" a gentle voice hissed as the door opened and shut. All five boys' heads turned at the sound of the voice and stared at their body guard, Paul, with confused expressions. "We have to get you out of here, now!"

"What?" Liam asked, standing up and adjusting his trousers that hung loosely on his hips. "What do you mean? We have an inter-"

"Shh!" Paul said, slapping a hand over Liam's mouth. "The interview's cancelled. Hurry up and move along."

"Where are we going?" Louis hissed, as they all tip toed through the hallway and down the elevator into the lobby, where they could hear fans screaming through the thick walls. "And didn't we come through the front entrance?"

"Just get inside and do as you're told!" Paul scowled, throwing the limousine door open for all five boys and gesturing for them to board it. Louis looked shaken. Paul had never snapped at him before, not even when he had been pranking someone or gotten in trouble with fans.

"Go on, Lou," Zayn muttered, pushing the white faced Louis into the limousine and closing the door after him. Each boy sat on their own in silence as Paul drove them off to the building that held each of their flats. When he parked outside the building, Paul turned around in his seat to face the faces of the scared boys.

"We haven't done anything wrong, have we?" Niall asked, his voice a bit low.

"Not at all," Paul said, shaking his head. He reached into the front seat and pulled out the five pieces of paper that he was instructed to hand out to the boys. As he passed them around, Zayn looked quizzically at the paper.

"What is this?" he asked, flipping through the stapled sheets of paper.

"Looks like some sort of list," Liam said, furrowing his eyebrows at the paper.

"Sleeping bag, flashlight, insect repellant... Paul, what is this? Are we not staying in a hotel next show?" Harry asked.

"No. You're not," Paul said. "You guys are going camping."

"Camping!?" all five boys screeched in shock.