Oxymoron Of Us

Chapter 5

I placed my fake eyelashes on with ease, deciding to do a dark, smokey eye today to compliment my tattered, high-waisted shorts and plain black tee. I was in a rebellious mood, that's for sure. There is no way I will let that brat boss me around and take advantage of me again. I tied a flannel around my waist and pulled on a heeled black boot. 

Just as I was finished changing, I heard a familiar vibrating coming from my purse. I quickly shoved my make-up bag in my suitcase and grabbed my phone.

"Hello?" I asked, slightly out of breath.

"Hello. This is Josh, Harry's manager. The tour bus is right out the front doors of the lobby. Please come as soon as possible. The mob is growing rapidly." And with that he hung up.

I blinked a few times, putting my suitcase on the ground and pulled out the handle. The 'mob is growing rapidly'? Who even can say that phrase so calmly? I swear that man has no feelings.

As I walked into the lobby, a feeling of dread was heavy in the pit of my stomach. Not only did I have to see that asshole again when I entered the bus, but I would be stuck with him for a whole year, constantly in close quarters. I groaned, running my hands through my perfectly straightened hair and walked up to the counter.

"Wow you look much different when you're actually wearing clothes," someone said behind me with a regrettably familiar British accent. 

My cheeks turned scarlet as the receptionist raised an eyebrow. I shook my head, ignoring the comment. How could he say such things? Did he really think that less of other people? Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, I turned around to come face to face with Harry- making out with a gorgeous red haired girl. I turned away quickly, my face growing hot,  and headed for the door as fast as I could. When did she even show up? Harry hadn't even been in New York for 12 hours yet! 

I pushed open the doors and suddenly my anger was replaced by annoyance. All around the gates of the hotel stood hordes of girls; some had signs and others just had vocal chords. They REALLY had vocal chords; those girls could shriek. I jumped onto the bus as fast as possible to get away from the frightening and overwhelming amount of girls. I don't understand how they can be so obsessed with a guy they haven't even met. They honestly should be thankful NOT to have met him, judging by the heartwarming experience I had. I never understood the mind of a fangirl. All they did was buy these idiots they worshiped $1,000 Gucci suits and shiny corvettes by hording all their over priced concert tickets and merchandise. In my perspective, it was a sick act of obsession, something I never plan to be a part of.

"You will take the cot in the back," Josh said to me. 

"Um okay. Thanks," I said. I looked out the window and noticed two separate buses. I silently prayed Harry would get into one of those. It was a pretty good possibility. After all, I was only a humble hair dresser.

I walked over to my "bed" and shoved my suitcase underneath. The bus was nice, I guess, as far as bus travel goes. I wonder how someone as high maintenance as Harry managed to survive in this cramped little thing. There were a few bunk beds lining the other wall of the vehicle and a small compartment in the back that appeared to be  a bathroom. 

All of  a sudden a roar erupted all around me, startling me from my observations. It's crazy how loud a crowd can be and even more crazy how many more fans had shown up over the last two minutes. Fans always have ways of tracking these celebrities down, no matter how hard they try to hide conceal themselves. I peered out the window and saw what all the fans were looking at; Harry Styles was standing in the hotel doorway, a cocky smile plastered on his face. I groaned, watching in dismay as he passed the first and second bus, heading to the one I was on.