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She Will Be Loved

Interviews

My foot tapped along to the beat of the music in the dressing room as Bry was busy spraying my hair with a million different products, attempting to tame it. I knew my hair wasn’t the easiest to work with, because it was too soft and smooth to work with without using a million different texture products to hold it in place. He had worked into a wavy, textured bun that looked nice and messy all at the same time, a concept that I was never able to master. Vee had put me into a simple coral racer back tank, tucked into the softest pair of white, high-waisted shorts I had ever seen. I had slipped on my gold watch and my own pair of coral ballet flats, completely the really simple look that was probably to simple for a nice event, but I didn’t care.

The door banged open to my dressing room, startling my stylist but I had already gotten used to these kind of surprises as the boys sauntered into the room, talking loudly and throwing themselves on the couch, ignoring or not noticing the glares my stylists were throwing their way. Vee and Bry were not accustomed to having boys barge into their sanctuary very often.

Louis walked over to me, standing behind me and crossing his arms over his stripped shirt, studying me in the mirror with an amused expression. I starred at him blankly, waiting for the slick comment to escape his mouth like a flock of doves. I didn’t have to wait long for he said, “You do take a lot of work, don’t you?”

To my surprise, Bry snorted and began laughed. I cast a glance at him and he shut up, clearly still amused. I rolled my eyes, somewhat annoyed but somewhat entertained as I glanced back at Louis. “I see you fixed your cowlick.”

“I never had one,” he said, overly proud of himself and smiling like a moron. “But you look almost presentable, love!”

“Almost?” Vee asked, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Almost is not in our vocabulary, Queen of England. Now please move so I can fix her straps.”

Louis knew she wasn’t being mean, but took the warning, giving me a single look of mock horror before returning to the couch where the boys were rough housing with one another and wrinkling their t-shirts and sweaters. I knew their stylist would have a heart attack if she walked in here.

“You guys should dress her in tighter pants,” Harry commented from the couch while Liam sat on hit stomach, making him sputter for a moment as the air left his body. “She looks good in those.”

Bry turned around, glaring at him and pointed ad comb at my friend. “Keep your eyes off her ass or my foot will be up yours, got it boy band?”

I giggled as the boys conversed among themselves while Vee and Bry finished the last few touches. I smiled, thinking about how defensive the two were when it came to me. Bry had of course been joking when he warned Harry, but at the same time there was a sense of warning and seriousness for Harry to stay away from me. My two stylists knew better than anyone how relationship incompetent I was as of late, and they knew I could not take the stress of another. The last ending had been a nightmare enough.

I could remember all the times Bry was nothing but patient with me when he had to redo my makeup after I began crying, thinking about Penn. One day before an interview he had to reapply make up three times, the third time threatening to quit if I didn’t stop being a teenager long enough to get through the interview without causing my mascara to run like Niagara Falls.

Vee and Bry finally finished and I stood from the chair, stretching my arms and turning to the boys who began clapping as if my stylist had completed some huge feat. I rolled my eyes and grabbed a brush from the counter, throwing it at them and nailing Niall in the back as he ran from the projectile, causing him to yelp, much to my appreciation.

“Yeah, sucks to suck doesn’t it?” I asked them as Jackie waltzed in, casting the boys an exasperated glance. Obviously they weren’t where they were supposed to be. Not my fault.

“All of you, would you come on? You’re on stage in a few minutes.”

We were all excited, that much was obvious. We all began murmuring to one another about how exciting it was going to be and that they were so glad to have me on board so that they could torture me over the new few months. I warned them that I bit back and that I would prank them back just as bad if not worse. I was not a force to be reckoned with.

The voice of the small press conference could be heard from the side of the stage. Our managers and publicists had called up the press conference so that they could announce certain date changes and the new opening act that would be replacing some other act that had a complication.

I was standing on stage, fingers twitching with both excitement and nervousness. The boys had such ha large fan base, larger than my own. I had suddenly become worried that maybe their fans wouldn’t want me to open for them, maybe they didn’t like my music or how I looked and acted. I was a lot more carefree than other teen stars, and I did not always trying and set an example of poise and elegance. I was more of the run around and be immature tomboy as opposed to the composed, beautiful Selena Gomez- who was the nicest person I had ever met.

As if he could sense my apprehension, Louis came and stood next to me, tossing his arm around me and squeezing me close, careful not to wrinkle my shirt. He knew Vee was watching him through narrowed eyes, ready to attack him if he sent her outfit askew. “You’ll be brilliant, love,” he whispered as the host of the conference began introductions, sending a buzz through the crowd. “You’ve got a million fans and wicked talent. And if you suck, they’ll be dazzled by our stunning talent and British accents.”

“Yes, I must admit the accents are attractive,” I sighed, glancing up at him with a smile on my face, instantly feeling better. Louis had that affect on people; he was able to make you feel better while making fun of you simultaneously.

I never got to thank him, for they were being called on the stage and the screams roared over us. I smiled at him and gave him a squeeze, thanking him with my eyes. I knew he understood when he smiled, running onto the stage and screaming like the nut that he was.

I bounced on the balls of my feet, watching as the boys sat down and went through a few introductions and a series of questions about their album and their experiences and the road they took to get here. I stopped bouncing when the woman doing the questioning asked them, “So, we’ve had word that the pop group Tempted dropped out of the tour because of a contract misunderstanding. Who is going to be opening for you guys now, everyone has been dying to know?”

Harry leaned forward and said, “Funny you should ask that. We brought our opening act here with us today to introduce them. We really think you’re going to like them- even if they are about as immature as we are.”

Everyone laughed and I rolled my eyes. “So you brought them here?” The woman asked, excited. “Before we bring them out, is there anything you want to say about working with them?”

Liam leaned forward before Harry could get a word out, knowing that whatever was going to come out of his mouth couldn’t possibly be safe. “This person probably should have been our first pick, and we’ve been so honored that they agreed to perform with us on such short notice. They really are an amazing person and artist, and although we have just met we’re all really good mates already, and we welcome this person with open arms.”

“And she’s really pretty!” Zayn yelled into the make, causing everyone to laugh.

“So we’d like to announce,” Niall yelled into the mic, pausing for dramatic affect. It worked when people began yelling for him to continue in his little Irish lilt. “That Bentley Slade is our opening act for the Up All Night Tour!”

I had no idea how the crowd would react, but the screaming and the cheers that went up over the stage in a wall of sound was not what I expected, and I knew that I must have been red in the face when I walked on stage, waving to the fans and the crowds of people who had swarmed the small auditorium that we were using, filling it to it’s max. I smiled brightly, feeling elated as I floated over and took a seat next to Harry at the end of the table.

I avoided his green eyes, knowing that they would be on me, glittering and beautiful as always. I didn’t need any more reason to feel nervous or jittery, so avoiding the warm feeling he gave me was a must. But sitting next to him, with his cologne wafting off of him like I was walking around Abercrombie and Fitch was nearly enough to send me out of my chair.

“Bentley Slade,” the host said, smiling her white smile at me. She was a middle waged woman, with brown hair and the whitest teeth I had ever seen. “You are a teen sensation, a pop star and amazing at what you do. How do you feel about this collaboration?”

“I couldn’t be more pleased,” I said honestly, smiling at the guys who beamed back at me. “These are one of the most talented group of people I’ve met, and each and every one of them brings such a perfect element of greatness to the table. It’s a real honor to be opening for them on their tour, and I cannot think of a better group to open for in all honesty. They’re amazing guys.”

“Have you ever met any of them before this?”

I shook my head. “No, but I was always sort of a fan. Something about there music makes you feel pretty.” Laughs went around the room. “I think every girl wants to feel pretty.”

“Yeah,” Harry grinned. “We have to sing to her to get her pretty, otherwise she wouldn’t look like this.”

I rolled my eyes. “Harry’s just upset that he won’t be the only diva on stage anymore.”

The questions went on for a while and we all answered honestly and even cracked jokes. Then it was time for the fan questions, and the first few went to the boys as expected. The few questions that I was asked was mainly how I wrote my songs, what I was feeling when I wrote them, and how excited I was to go on tour with such and awesome group of guys. All the questions were to be expected by fans. Others… not so much.

“Do you think it’s going to be difficult working with such a large group of attractive guys?” a girl around my age asked. Her tone wasn’t rude, but it wasn’t exactly the nicest way to phrase a question either. Normally I liked to snap at these kinds of people, but I was in the public eye, I wasn’t allowed to be mean.

“Don’t get me wrong,” I answered. “These boys are all handsome and have great personalities, and although I’m making friendships, this is also a business relationship and I don’t feel that it’s healthy or professional to mix business and pleasure.”

What the next girl asked me was even harder to answer. “Do you think Penn would be upset that you’re going to spend the next few months with a group of hormonal teenage boys?”

I tried not to blanch at the question. It always came back to him. It seemed that no matter what I did, I would forever be known for my incident with Penn. And I hated it. I hated it more than anything, and I secretly wished more than anything that we had just sorted out our differences in order to avoid these stupid questions.

I felt a brush of contact on my hand as Harry’s warm hand found mine, squeezing it. I had realized I hate hesitated, causing the room to go absolutely silent. It was moments like these that ended up in the magazines stating that I was still love struck over my ex and that I was begging to have him back.

“Even if it did bother him,” I began slowly and carefully. “It shouldn’t. We have a very strict set of rules and guidelines, it isn’t as if I’m going to be sharing the same rooms and such with the boys. I am a profession at what I do, this is a job and although it’s a job that allows me to have fun, I would never jeopardize that with relationships and with discrepancies. I’d like to believe that Penn would know this was a job, not some attempt to upset him.”

There, I answered the question flawlessly and with so much class that I kind of felt like raising my pinky in the air and wearing one of those single eye glasses and scream out the phrase ‘like a sir.’ Even Harry through me a cheeky glance, which was the closest thing to approval I was going to get from him. I was beginning to think that Harry Style’s didn’t know how to be serious.

It was then that it dawned on me that his hand still rested lightly on mine.

Comments

@theressomethingaboutharry
http://www.mibba.com/Stories/Read/471031/She-Will-Be-Loved/

sorry, I don't go here so I didn't see your comment sooner.
Carpe Diem ! Carpe Diem !
12/23/12
@Carpe Diem !
Really?! Aaah I love this story though :) can I have a link please? :D
@theressomethingaboutharry
Thank youu! I don't really post anymore of it on here cause it's all on miba..
Carpe Diem ! Carpe Diem !
11/30/12
I love this story!!
@thelovelyreader
Thank you dear!
Carpe Diem ! Carpe Diem !
10/29/12