Forever (h.s.)

Chapter 8

Chapter 8: One direction of Love

The taxi driver screeched to a halt in front of a bright, booming night club. We paid him and he was gone, leaving us to deal with the twenty foot tall muscled doorman who did not look so enthused with our presence.

"You wanna talk to him?" I asked, turning to Fiona with a huge fake smile on my face. She grimaced, looking from the man to me and back again.

"You do it," she said, pushing me forward. "You're the one who was born in the week of charm." I sighed, unable to argue with fate. Putting on my most charming smile, I walked up to him and said,

"Hi, I believe we're on the list?" The doorman glanced disbelievingly at me, then at the clipboard he was holding.

"I highly doubt that," he stated in a deep, terrifying voice. "This is guests only, sweethearts. Get out of here."

"Excuse me?" I said, putting on my best hell-no-don't-mess-with-me face. "We're with the band. Personal invitation." The guard raised an eyebrow at me, then checked his list.

"Identification?" He drawled, though he seemed a little embarrassed at his mistake. I pulled out my driver's permit and shoved it in his face. "Get in," he said. "Sorry about that." I rolled my eyes and without a word, pulled Fiona inside.

"That was great," she giggled. "Did you even know if we were on that list?" I shrugged.

"I figured if there was a list, Harry would've put us on it," I said. Just then, I saw a familiar face pushing through the crowd.

"Harry!" I called, waving to get his attention.

"Hi, love," he said, nodding to Fiona and giving my outfit a once over. I could see a little glint of excitement in his eye. "You look lovely." I grinned, sort of stupidly, and giggled to Fiona as we followed Harry back behind the club's little stage.

The first thing I saw was an extremely hot guy with an intense look in his eye and a whoosh of dark hair checking himself out in the mirror. He saw us next to his reflection and turned around.

"Hey, Harry," he said. He had a smooth, confident accent to his voice. "Is this the girl you've been raving about?" He grinned at Harry's blush and stepped forward. Shaking my hand, he said, "I'm Zayn."

"Hi," I replied. "This is my friend Fiona from back in the U.S." Zayn nodded.

"I'll go get the rest of the lads," he said, and disappeared. I turned to Harry, my smile amused, and said,

"Raving, huh? Very smooth." Harry rolled his eyes, but I could see a tiny grin creeping onto his lips. I playfully slapped his shoulder and he gave in, giving me a teasing kiss.

Just then, a blond kid with cheeky blue eyes walked into the room and gave us a smile. "Hi!" he said cheerfully, and I was struck by his choppy Irish accent.

"This is Niall," Harry said. Then he turned to his friend. "Where are Louis and Liam? We go on in ten minutes." Niall shrugged, then pulled a guitar out of its case and started strumming absentmindedly and humming along. I could tell, even then, that this show was going to be incredible. We stood in silence for several awkward minutes before Zayn came walking back in.

"I'm kind of nervous," he admitted, checking himself in the mirror again. I turned to Harry and whispered,

"I get the feeling he does that a lot." Harry grinned and looked down at me with a nod. As if to prove my point, Zayn looked around at us all and asked,

"Do I look alright?" Niall laughed out loud and I couldn't help but giggle at his open, rambunctious laugh. Zayn lowered his eyebrows and said, "This is serious!" But that only made us laugh harder, and Zayn eventually stormed out of the room, leaving me tumbling into Harry in uncontrollable giggles.