The next day went by slowly. Aiden and I sat down at our breakfast table (that was really just a coffee table we made several uses of) and began planning everything that was supposed to happen in two days. By 10:30, we had only come up with four ideas.
The first was a question and answer segment, where the boys had to come up with questions to ask the other three. Aiden had thought of this. He said that it would get out what they thought the fans should know about each other.
The second was a contest. Mashton versus Cake in a balsamic-vinegar pong race. Aiden had told me that he thought they would never want to do an interview with us after that game. I couldn't help but agree.
The third was phone calls from fans. Aiden thought that this was a bad idea. I ignored him.
Lastly, I was going to have them perform two songs that the fans had picked. I put up a straw-poll voting system with the four songs I wanted to hear most: Disconnected, Teenage Dream, Voodoo Doll, and Try Hard. The last one was leading, with Teenage Dream close behind.
I wrote down all of our ideas in my work notebook, carefully scheduling when each thing would take place. The questions would take up 20 minutes of our time, if they could last even that long. The pong game would be 20 minutes as well. Ten minutes would be spent taking calls from the fans. The rest of the time would consist of their two songs. I smiled at my work, and then at Aiden.
"Thank you so much, Aiden. You have no idea how much this means to me." I told him, leaning over to hug him.
"Yeah yeah," he said, patting my back, "Just get at least one of their numbers, please? Make this worth it."
I scoffed. "I am meeting one of my favorite bands in two days. It's going to be worth it no matter what."
"Okay dummy. Also don't forget you have school in like and hour and a half." He said, pulling away from the hug.
I looked at the clock, mentally kicking myself. "Call the school and tell them I'm dead."
Aiden laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure your parents would love for me to do that. They're already thrilled that you're living with me."
"Shut up, Aiden. You know for a fact this was better. I couldn't get to school or work on ti-"
"Plus they kicked you out."
I smacked his arm. "They didn't kick me out. They just asked me to take my nose ring out or pack my things. I definitely had options."
He snorted. "Yeah. You were in total control, huh? No screaming and arguing at all."
I hushed him quickly. "Better to live free and in lower middle class than to be controlled and be in upper middle class." I tell him. "Besides, you're my best friend. And we make enough to provide for ourselves. We're a great team."
I left him then, getting into clothes for school and heading to the subway.
I arrived at school only thirty minutes later, and head to my media teacher's room.
Mr. Fent's room was pretty plain. He had some memorabilia up from his college in Oklahoma and a few pictures of his wife and daughter on his desk. "Fletcher, you're here almost 15 minutes early. Great. Let's get started."
I groaned. It was going to be one of those days. Mr. Fent was a young teacher, only having turned 28 in September, but he taught like he'd been there for years. "Mr. Fent, can I just sit down for a little bit?" I ask, setting my bag down by one of the computers.
"Um, yes. Then we need to talk about the multimedia II students." He pointed a finger at me and spun on his heels to open the door for his wife. Mrs. Fent also taught at the school, and she always brought me a Taco Bell freeze whenever she brought man-Fent lunch.
"Hi Mrs. Fent!" I greeted her and she smiled back, setting down my drink.
"Do you get to interview that band?" She asks me excitedly, jumping straight to the point.
"Oh my gosh, yes!" I gushed, and she squealed with excitement, knowing my love for the band.
"Ah that's so great! Don't forget to give Ryan my number, okay?" she laughed and headed out the door.
Mr. Fent looked at me sternly. "Do not give Ryan Seacrest her number." I laughed at him and promised I wouldn't.
The class period after multimedia was simple: a workroom. With Mr. Fent. I'd had a class with him all four years of high school, and we had a strong friendship. He relied on me an I got everything done the way it needed to be.
I headed to the station as the school bell rang, walking four blocks to get to 'Chicago's Number One Hit Station.'
Ryan greeted my promptly, pulling me into his office to "discuss the interview ideas."
"Call them." was all he said as he handed my a slip of paper with a number scribbled onto it.
"Call who? The band?" I asked him, slightly freaked out, but he sighed and explained that it was their manager's number. "Oh, that's not too bad. I don't think I've prepared myself to talk to them yet." I pulled my phone out of my pocket and keyed the number in, pressing the call button and waiting for an answer. Three rings later and they picked up.
"Hello?" a deep voice answered.
"Hi, my name is Fletcher-"
"Hey, that's Ashton's middle name!" the voice laughed and I realized I had been lied to.
"Oh my god." I said out loud, looking at Ryan's face. "You gave me Luke Hemmings' number and then told me it was his manager?!" My voice cracked on the last word and I heard a laugh on the other side of the phone.
"No, this is our manager's phone. He just went to do something and left it with us for some reason. He said he was expecting a call so I guess this is it." He explained.
I took a shaky breath. "Okay, well.. I guess I'll finish this then. Um, I'm Fletcher Harrison. I work for 103.5 in Chicago. I'm supposed to interview you guys-"
"Hey Ashton this girl's name is Fletcher isn't that cool?!" Luke interrupted me. "No you can't talk to her! I'm talking to her!"
"Um, Mr. Hemmings?" I asked, unsure of what was going on.
"Ew formal names. Just call me Luke. But you said Chicago and numbers so like a radio station? That's cool. You sound kind of young tho - oh hi Matt. Yeah radio I think. Did you know her name is Fletcher? Isn't that cool?"
"Luke? Is that your manager?" I asked him and he confirmed. "Could I talk to him? It's about our interview with you guys."
"Oh yeah that's important."
There was a bit of mumbles from the other end and then an older voice answered. "I'm sorry about that, miss. They locked me out of the room for some while before Ashton unlocked the door. Anyway, the interview Thursday?"
I hesitated. This already seemed like it was going to be a mess. "Yeah, ah. I just wanted to run some things by you and the band before I set anything in stone. Is that alright?"
"That's fine by me." he said and I began explaining my plans. He especially enjoyed my balsamic vinegar pong idea. Everything was ironed out in less than ten minutes and then he asked the question. "Do you want to meet them? We can come by early since we're in the states for the next month. Just take a mini vacation to the Windy City?" He seemed to be asking the guys. "Ms. Harrison here can give us a tour. She lives there, Calum, of course she knows the best parts!"
"Yeah, that'd be great! You all can come see what Chicago is really about!" I smiled widely even though I was terrified.
"Really? That's so great. We can fly out tonight or tomorrow morning and then come by the studio and meet everyone, see the set up." Matt told me and laughed at something that must have happened in the background.
"That sounds good. I'm excited to meet all of you." I told him truthfully, my eyes wide in nervousness.
"We're looking forward to meeting you, too, Ms. Harrison. We'll see you then."
The phone call ended then, and it was official. I was meeting 5 Seconds of Summer.
•this sucked, sorry :<
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