~Liam~
"We have to be very careful. The only plane left for Europe is ours, and we can't risk getting-" I start, and then I hear it. The sounds that both make us who we are, and terrify us down to our bones.
"It's One Direction!"
"Run!" We yell, trying to get to the terminal. Since Macy isn't carrying anything else, she runs ahead of us, trying not to get caught by the fans. They would tear her to pieces.
"Thank you!" I yell at the guy who closes the door behind us. The rabid fangirls didn't get in, thank goodness. I love our fans, but anytime any of us are out in public it's difficult for us to get anything done.
"Macy, so how's that for your first fan run?" Asks Louis, hitting her shoulder gently.
"Great." She says absentmindedly. She's been getting better for sure. But she's still sometimes needs a little push to talk to us.
"A few weeks on the road will do you good. No worries." Says Harry. When he came back, he said he couldn't find Sammy. It was almost like she disappeared entirely. The worst part was, I don't think he was telling the truth.
Niall on the other hand, has seem to be completely over her. He's really focused on the music, and the band, and almost acts as if she didn't exist. But she did, and hurt him the same way he hurt Harry and Macy.
"Just wait till we hit London!" Says Louis, excited. "Oh man that'll be great! We'll take you out to all our favorite eateries, we could go to all sorts of shops! We'll have so much fun!"
"Thanks guys." She says, running her hand through her hair.
"Don't thank us. Thank Simon. You'll get to meet him soon." Says Zayn.
"Of course." She says, looking down slightly.
Harry and I walk slightly behind the rest of the group, and finally make it to the plane. We have seats next to each other, since Zayn and Louis get the seat closest to Macy. Niall's sitting in front of us, prepping to go to sleep.
"Liam, there's something I need to tell you." He whispers. I nod, and he takes it as a yes.
"In New York, Sammy and I, we sort of did meet." Just like I suspected.
"But thing is, she's not the same anymore." He says, and I scrunch my eyebrows.
"What do you mean?" I ask him.
He sighs, and pulls out his phone. There's a picture of a girl wearing a grey t-shirt, her hands covering her face. She's clearly sitting on some bed, and her bright blue hair is up in a messy bun.
"Who's that?" I ask.
"Sam. Well, Sammy." He says, and my eyes widen.
"Tell me, now." I demand.
