Pretty Venom |N.H|

67

Jasey Foster

August 11.

I stand by a door near the side of the stage, watching the band as they close out their final show before we head to Las Vegas.

Niall hands his guitar off to someone off to the side, Louis doing the same with his bass as Liam walks down from his drum kit, and the four of them meet at the middle of the stage, doing a quick bow before they get ready to leave.

"We're Pretty Venom!" Harry raises a hand at the microphone stand still standing in the middle of the stage, giving one last goodbye to the crowd while the rest of the guys walk off. "Thank you, Tampa!"

I watch as Liam peeks out to the stage before tossing his drumsticks out into the audience, then he turns back around and runs backstage, wiping his face with a black towel.

"Jasey! Catch!"

I turn around with my hands out, and in a second, the sweaty towel that Liam was just using lands in my hands.

I scrunch my nose, a small frown on my face that this was what he was tossing at me. He cracks a smile before laughing at me and my reaction.

I could sell this on eBay, maybe pay off some of my student loans that I'm sure will build up through college.

Scott comes up beside me, holding his hand out to me. He looks down at the towel. "I've got it. I'll put it with the rest of their laundry."

I hand it over to him, wiping my damp hands on my sweatpants.

Normally I would be dressing a little bit nicer for a show – nicer, meaning jeans and a shirt, considering the band's presence is quite casual, which I'm thankful for. I don't have to worry about wearing dresses or fancy outfits every night during the shows like I have had to before when visiting my dad on tour.

However, tonight I'm dressed in sweatpants and a loose hoodie, choosing this outfit intentionally since we are going straight to the airport after the show. I could have changed there, or even right now, but I figured it would be easier to just wear this to the airport, and I'm much more comfortable in this. I wouldn't want to hold anyone back or waste time by changing at the arena either.

Harry runs by me next with a bag in his hands, then Louis. My eyes immediately scan the area for Niall, but I can't find him.

I suddenly hear footsteps, and since I'm the only person still standing in this hallway, I assume it's him. I'm proven right when he turns a corner frantically, running like the rest of his band. He still has his headset on, the microphone part pulled away from his face. His in-ear monitors hang around his neck, smacking his chest as he moves.

He's in such a hurry that he doesn't even notice me standing there as he goes by, but he quickly stops in his tracks and runs back to me.

"Sorry, can't talk. We're running behind. I'll see you at the airport, okay?" he says quickly before heading off again. I don't get a chance to say anything before he's gone, but I understand his urgency, so I don't think much of it.

His shoes squeak as he forces himself to stop in the middle of the hallway, running back to me for a second time, pressing a kiss to my lips before heading off again, picking up his pace.

He turns into a dressing room, and as I walk by to go out the back doors of the arena, I see him stuffing his bag full of his things, the rest of the band doing the same as him.

When I make it outside, I notice my dad leaning his back against one of the cars with his phone in his hand. He looks up at me at the sound of the doors closing behind me.