Confused Much? // l.t

20: Media Attraction to the Max

Amanda’s POV:

The flashes erupted the second my family and I stepped out of the airport.

My mother screamed, and her right hand grasped onto Jett’s unbelievably tight. On her face stained a look of complete shock. A hand grasped on my shoulder from behind me, but the touch was familiar. I knew it was my fathers, and I felt a bit more relaxed. Still however, I was terribly worried.

From left to right strangers called my name, or incidents that had happened in the recent past. It felt like a tornado blasting me off guard. How did these people have any connection me?

“Paparazzi,” a voice I knew as my Dad’s whispered. My eyes were unable to drift to his face, but I knew his expression was full of protection.

My family had distaste for social media. It was impossible for them to watch the television without one of them turning it off. Although, I did persuade them into using twitter… only to check up on Jett and I’s profile. How either of them didn’t ditch us and walk back into the airport was a mystery. I was thankful they stayed.

We were all stood directly in front abnormally amount of people surrounding us with cameras. Soon enough, annoyance filled me, but I dared not to let it show. Who knows what these grown men can change whatever I say into.

“We better do something Jim, I can’t stand here my whole life. I’ll be aging by the second.” My Mum’s eyes never tore off the sight ahead of us as she spoke to my father. However, he didn’t reply.

“Just walk us to the car. Whatever, they say guys, don’t answer.” I felt oddly smart and accomplished once I came up with a decent plan.

My family immediately agreed, and we all struggled to walk through the crowd of people. Some were kind enough to move over for us, but most just wanted a nice shot of my face. Not that my face is nice in the first place… oh god, I must be looking like absolute crap. With the amount of hours I spent on that plane, someone could have given birth to triplets.

“This way honey!” My Dad yelled, gesturing his arm to the left. I assumed it was the direction to our car.

I was proved correct once the somewhat worn out Honda came into view. Once the car came into was in an appropriate distance, we all speed walked in sync to the vehicle. You’d think we would run to get into the safe metal contraption, but we made a promise never to run on the road when we were young.

Hopping in hastily once I got to the blue door, my brother climbed in with me, following in toe. My mother got into the passengers seat, and my father into the drivers. Buckling our seat belts in, my father spoke, “Amanda what were they talking about?”

The question made no sense whatsoever.

“What?”

“The paparazzi?”

“I didn’t hear.”

“They were screaming questions at you. About your relationship status.”

“I also recall one saying something along the lines of, ‘how do you feel about breaking up One Direction?’ Whatever that is.” My Mum added in, her breathing unsteady from the fast walking.

Suddenly I felt the need to punch someone in the face.

Everyone in the car looked at me, sensing something wrong by the look on my face. I bet you, if I got a dollar for every ounce of color that had been drained from my complexion, I’ll be a millionaire. Running through my mind were thoughts on how stupid the human race was – with them changing things up to make people more interested.