Tangerine

Chapter 8

Soundtrack: Pink Floyd - Brain Damage (1973)

Dedication: Emma — I love scrolling down and seeing you in my comments, it makes me smile every time :) Thanks so much for staying updated and being so kind. Hope you're well. x — Jen

·

It was the end.

We said goodbye for now, just in case our managers are in touch, but most of us understood that it was goodbye forever.

By the morning after the party, I was living in hangover city. My head was full, throbbing from such a random mix of alcohol the night before, but any headache was worth it.

I'd just experienced a boyband, of all the possibilities in the world.

What a ride it was.

·

Mitch sits us down as soon as we enter his London office. He places a finger over his lips in thought, playing up the fact that he's burning to tell us something. I'm still a little mad at him for taking me to such a shady gossip magazine those few ago, but it's part of the job ‒ as Mitch said, any publicity is good publicity ‒ and I'm just waiting for the answer, the resolve.

But it's a no.

"Unfortunately, you didn't make the Wembley show," Mitch finally tells us, as if saying unfortunately before the bad news will make it any better.

Obviously, it's unfortunate. We already know it's unfortunate.

Most of the air escapes my lungs.

We knew exactly what we were in for, yet it still hurts to hear it. Our surreal celebrity days have come to a close. Even my band looks let down.

"You didn't make the Wembley show," Mitch goes on, "because there was no Wembley show."

"Wait, what?" I react, frowning up at the man before us.

"What are you saying?" Elijah voices skeptically.

"Now... bear with me, here..." Mitch begins, taking his time to process each of our reactions. "The idea was that you were being auditioned to open a single stadium show at Wembley stadium. Although the supposed opening act would only perform a select few songs if chosen, One Direction's people had you play for them as if you were going through an entire setlist. And, like some of you seemed to have caught on," he looks specifically at Keith here, who grins successfully, "that full set was actually your audition for something more."

"Wise Keith," Pete shakes his head to himself, while Elijah and I still remain confused.

Mitch raises a hand, as to finish.

"One Direction has a world tour coming up in the next couple of months," our manager directly spells it out for us. "The Wembley show was bait, to audition bands undercover and find the most substantial act for their upcoming tour. Unknowingly, you auditioned... and they want you."

"Hold on..." My pulse reaches my ears, numbing my chest.

"You just said we didn't get it," Elijah stalls.

"We did..." Pete clues in. "We didn't get the show, because there was no show..."

"Lost the show and won a tour..." Keith sums it up in a sentence.

"Fuck," I blanche.

Elijah looks at us, then back to Mitch. "How do we know this is real?"