I Can't Hold Back

I scarfed down my Caesar salad as I continued to stare at my computer screen. Fridays were my only day off from school and work, and since my roommate was out of town for the weekend visiting her family, I had just stayed in my pajamas all day and watched reruns of Gossip Girl on Netflix. I felt my phone buzz and checked the screen. Be there at 10:30. Hope you don’t mind being squished in with the lads for a few minutes. FUCK. I got so distracted by Chuck and Blair’s romance that I completely lost track of time. Niall was on his way to pick me up for the party he had told me about at the garage two weeks earlier. We had been texting every now and again since then, but I still wasn’t sure if I was his “date” to this party or not. We talked about little things like school and work, but nothing that indicated anything more. I threw my bowl in the sink and closed my laptop, making a mental note to try and look Serena-esque tonight.

Dashing to my bedroom and throwing open my closet doors, I stared blankly at my collection of clothes. I had always thought I owned a pretty good wardrobe, but now it all just looked subpar. Searching through the hangers for about ten minutes, I finally found a navy blue tiered lace dress I had always been wanting to wear out. It had beautiful lace sleeves and a short enough hem to let the eye wander. Laying the dress on my bed, I pulled open my underwear drawer. The only “sexy” underwear I really owned was a matching black lace bra and thong my best friend had bought me for Christmas. I yanked off my baggy t-shirt and leggings and threw on the lingerie, then the dress. Going to my shoe collection, I opted for a pair of simple Steve Madden heels I bought for formal my sophomore year, even though I knew I would be falling all over the place in them after a few too many drinks. A pair of chandelier earrings and a tennis bracelet later, I thought maybe I could pull this night off.

After getting dressed, I applied my make-up and prayed it wouldn’t smudge for at least a few hours of dancing and drinking. As I was applying the last coat of mascara, I heard my ringtone from my phone on the charger. It was a text from Cocky Little Shit: We’re hereeee, and I know you can’t wait to see me. After that there was a kiss emoticon. Who the fuck did this guy think he was – Casanova? I had texted Harry so he would have my number in his phone, but it’s not like I said “I want your cock.” Horny bastard. Rolling my eyes, I replied with a simple: Be out soon. Throwing my phone, lipstick, ID, credit card, and keys into my clutch, I was out the door.

The car outside was not Harry’s Range Rover, but a large black Cadillac Escalade with tinted windows. At first I was surprised, but then came to my senses once I remembered that Niall said this party was a paparazzi’s wet dream. As I approached the car, a boy who looked somewhat like a motherfucking Middle Eastern Sex God stepped out of the back and held the door open for me.

“Hey love, I’m Zayn.” I could barely understand a word that came out of his mouth and was too distracted by his perfect lips. “Hope you don’t mind squeezing in between me and Niall!” He barked out a sarcastic laugh and I could see that Arab Aladdin was baked out of his fucking mind. I smiled back, hopped in the car, and was greeted with a huge hug from Niall.

“Charlie! How are you? You look fucking fantastic!” His grin was intoxicating, not to mention his scent; he smelled like a fucking dream.

“Thanks Niall, you look great!” He was wearing dark wash jeans and a white button down underneath a navy blue blazer. A deep voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts.

“But not as great as me, right, babe?” Harry turned around and blew me a kiss. His normally green eyes were surrounded by a sea of red and they were practically glazed over. So Harry was high, too…well this should be fun. To amuse myself for a little, I decided to throw him a bone.

“My, my, Harry. How will I ever keep my hands off of you?” He giggled and turned back around.

“Let me introduce you to everyone, Charlie. This here behind me in the black is Louis, next to him his girlfriend Eleanor, Liam is next to her, and you already met Harry and Zayn up here.” I waved at these new faces that seemed genuinely happy to meet me.

“So you’re the one who old Niall got into the car accident with, eh?” Louis asked me. His voice was much higher compared to Harry’s, and it took me by surprise at first.

“Yeah, you know, what can I say? I have that effect on people even when they can’t clearly see me.” I smiled as he let out a short laugh.

“Don’t worry about it love, Niall’s used to giving it from behind, aren’t ya boy?” If I had had a drink I would have spit it out. My eyes widened as I looked toward Niall, but he just laughed it off as if he were used to being the butt of a few too many jokes.

Liam got my attention by apologizing for Louis, “Sorry, some of the lads were too excited to wait for the party to have fun.” I smiled at him and shrugged it off. My eyes moved to Eleanor, who looked absolutely ravishing in a black sequin dress.

“I adore your dress, where did you get it?” I asked, hoping drool wasn’t running down my chin.

She smiled at me. “Aw, thank you, darling! I bought it online a bit ago, never thought to wear it until tonight.”

“Well you look incredible in it.” God if I didn’t stop complimenting her, everyone was going to think I was a lesbian. Her smile, however, just got bigger.

“You’re too sweet, thank you! You look absolutely brilliant in your dress as well!” I thanked her and brought my focus back to Niall, who was staring out the window, looking so serene. I just wanted to kiss his fa –

“Do you drink?” he asked me suddenly, interrupting my train of thought. I inwardly cracked up. He had no idea of the life I led at Southern Cal. I’ve been to more keggers in the past two and a half years than most people have gone to in their entire lives. I worked for the athletic department for fuck’s sake; I knew where each party was happening and when the time to show up was. But I didn’t want to come off as some crazy party girl, so I racked my brain for a good response.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for a good cranberry vodka every now and then.” Well, talk about understatement of the year.

He smiled and took my hand. “Listen, if things get a little crazy tonight I want you to know that you can come to me at any time and we can leave. This is a lot to handle for someone who hasn’t been to one before, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to stick around while Nickelodeon TV stars start fucking in the middle of the dancefloor.” I laughed at his vulgarity, but his words were oddly sincere. I once again saw the passion in his eyes I had seen at the garage. But, before I could respond, the driver announced that we had arrived at the party, so I had to deal with squeezing his hand in response as someone – I’m guessing their manager – started giving them a list of rules.

“Alright boys, you know the drill. No excess drinking and/or drugs so that you need to be escorted out of the club. In fact, no drugs – we don’t need a rehab stint. No fighting with anyone, even if they call you names. No having sex with random girls in the bathroom – Harry, Zayn.” They snorted with laughter at this, seeming higher, if possible. “No streaking of any kind – Louis.”

“Aw, come on, it was one time!” Louis groaned in response as Eleanor patted his arm but stifled a laugh.

The manager ignored him and continued. “Do not send any drunken texts, tweets, etc., so that people will be able to ever use them against you. And last but not least, no leaving the club without telling at least two of the others exactly where you are going. Now go have a kick-ass night, lads.” With that last statement, the driver opened the door and we were blinded by flashing lights.

Niall grabbed my hand and dragged me through the hoard of paparazzi who were shooting questions at me left and right – “who are you?” and “how do you know One Direction?” Trying to ignore them, I looked up to see where we were, and saw it was Opera. Fuck, even on a weeknight I could never get into this club – and trust me, I’d tried – because it was one of the hottest scenes in L.A. After what felt like an hour of pushing our way through, we finally made it inside, and saw the inside was just as chaotic as the outside was. There were girls dancing on tables and somewhere the latest Katy Perry song was blasting. As we made our way to the bar, I saw countless who I thought to be innocent young actors and musicians snorting cocaine and grinding up against one another. Where the fuck was I?

At the bar, Niall ordered a pint of Stella Artois for himself and a cranberry vodka for me. When we got our drinks, we began to survey our surroundings. Pretty soon the rest of the gang caught up with us, and Harry ordered everyone a shot of tequila.

“Want to make yours a body shot?” He winked at me.

Almost thoroughly disgusted, I replied chirpily, “only if I get to shove it up your ass.”

He frowned, then snapped out of it, and handed out the vials of golden liquid. “To a sick ass party!” He shouted. Niall responded with a “cheers!” and downed his shot; I followed with mine. Shaking my head, I repressed the urge to gag. Not only did tequila taste like shit, but it also had a tendency to make my clothes fall off. Oh well, I had the urge to get drunk, so I quickly cleaned off my cranberry vodka and looked up to see Niall looking impressed. He winked at me.

“Two can play that game, babe.” He finished his beer and licked his lips. “Let’s get really drunk, shall we?”

I smiled at him and he ordered us two double whiskey sours. Guess I was mixing all my alcohols tonight. I knew two nonetheless four ounces of whiskey was going to send me over the edge, so I sent up a quick prayer before taking the drink from the Irishman with the iron liver. I had planned to just sip it slowly at first, but that was before Louis came over and tilted my glass in the air, forcing me to swallow the drink in its entirety.

“That’s how you fucking do it! Woo!” He screamed before running off, probably to do the same to someone else. I glanced at Niall who just shrugged and finished his drink, too. He ordered himself another whiskey sour while I tried to stay standing.

However, that plan went out the window when I was suddenly dragged onto the dance floor. “Come on babe, got to have some fun!” Zayn yelled as he twirled me this way and that. My stomach wasn’t going to go along with it much longer, but my buzz was starting to kick in big time, so I pushed the nauseating feeling aside and started dancing. After the song that had been playing ended, people began to surround us to start talking with Zayn. Zayn introduced me to everyone, and I couldn’t believe I was chatting with so many celebrities. Talk about star struck. I was talking to someone about the newest Chanel bag when all of a sudden I heard a familiar da duh da duh da dun dun tick tick tick. In an instant Zayn was suddenly hollering above the noise and yanking my arm to get us back to the bar.

“It’s our fucking song, Louis, our fucking song!” he yelled as I watched Louis and Eleanor approach.

“Well, you know what that means, FUCKING SHOTS!” Louis shouted, ordering six more shots of tequila. I looked quizzically over at Niall, who had two more empty glasses near him since the last time I saw him. Fuck, that boy could drink.

He laughed at my expression. “We do shots every time we hear one of our songs.” Ah, that obviously explained the sudden excitement. I nodded and then turned to the current commotion, which was Harry and Liam. Well, the commotion was really just Harry and poor Liam trying to watch over his friend, who was screaming the lyrics to his band’s song as he stumbled towards the rest of us.

“To living while we’re young, motherfuckers!” Louis raised his tequila shot, and we all downed the drinks and cringed. Well, I know I cringed. Suddenly out of nowhere, Harry jumped on top of the bar and grabbed at Liam and Zayn, dragging them with him, Louis soon following with Niall in tow. They started to do their signature ‘rowing’ dance move to the interlude of the song and I was in tears with Eleanor who was laughing so hard she could barely stand.

When the song ended, the boys bowed to the rest of the club and jumped off the bar. Niall came up and embraced me, and even with the countless shots of alcohol that had made their way down his throat, he still smelled like heaven. I pulled away and looked up at him, my eyes hazy from too much tequila.

“How are you feeling?” he slurred.

“Fucking fantastic,” I replied, still holding onto his torso. Truth was, if I wasn’t I would have been on the floor flat on my face.

“Well I’m getting fucking bored. Let’s go back to the hotel, yeah?” I simply nodded as he grinned and pulled out his phone. He stared at it for a few moments before mumbling, “Fuck it.” He handed the phone to Liam and asked him to text Paul, whoever that was. Shit damn motherfuck, I was seriously feeling this alcohol. I needed someone to talk to, and since it was impossible for me to coherently text any of my friends, I stumbled up to Eleanor, who was sitting at the bar looking so delicate among the chaos surrounding us.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?” I asked her as she threw her arms around me in a hug.

“Of course, Char, I fucking love you!” She laughed, and I joined in.

“I fucking love you too!” We danced around for a little while Bruno Mars played from the speakers. When the song ended I cursed at myself. Fuck drunk me for always getting easily distracted. I shook my head and focused on why I came up to her in the first place.

“Do you think it’s a good idea for me to go back to Niall’s hotel room with him?” I whispered. I don’t know who the fuck I was expecting to hear me.

She widened her eyes at me. “Oh my god, yes! You guys are darling together! Plus I overheard him telling Lou earlier that he really fancies you.” He fancied me? Dear Lord, I was getting in over my head. I kissed El on the cheek and asked her to wish me luck as I walked back to Niall.

He grabbed my hand as I approached. “Ready?”

“You bet your ass I’m ready,” I beamed. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t even close to being ready for the fuckery that this whole thing was about to become.

Notes