Niall: He was late. It would be worse if you were out in the city waiting for him instead of your flat, but nevertheless, he was late. You had gotten the text when you woke up that he would be in meetings all day but he should still be able to make the seven o'clock deadline you had set for dinner. It was your turn to provide dinner, suggesting that he come over to your place after his was finished. The speculation of your relationship would not be fueled if you stayed in. The two of you had yet to tell anyone other than family and friends about your newly formed relationship. You weren't exactly sure when the time was going to be, but by the intense media that had surrounded your outings as you two became closer, it wouldn't take long for the news to break. "Sorry," you hear as you stand in the kitchen trying to keep the food hot. He quickly makes his way through the living room and into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Sorry I'm late." "I was beginning to think I was going to have to eat all of this myself," you joke, turning around to face him. "Don't count on it." He smiles and you return the gesture before he pulls away to see what you had prepared. "Potato dauphinoise with a roast chicken and string beans, and a fruit in the hole for desert," you explain as he opens up the oven to see what all it held. "Amazing," he returns with another smile. You had already set the table while you were waiting on him, so he gets a bottle of wine from the cooler, opening it with ease as he takes it to the table. You carry the dishes to the table one by one, letting the desert set on the stove while you ate. "How did your meetings go?" You inquire once the two of you had filled your plates. "Yeah, about that," he begins, taking a bite almost immediately. "We need to talk." "Uh oh, that doesn't sound good." "It isn't really that big of a deal," he counters, still shoveling more food in as he explains. "After we were done with all of the group meetings we went into individual ones." "Uh huh, and what was yours about?" You question, poking at your food, not wanting to eat until he told you what was going on. "You." "Me? What about me?" "Well just remember, it isn't that big of a deal." "You said that already, Niall." "I know, I just don't want you to overreact." "JUST TELL ME!" "Okay, okay!" He takes a drink of the wine he had pulled out, before setting his fork down. This was something serious. "They asked why we still hadn't come out as a couple yet and I told them that it wasn't really on our mind to actually make a statement about it. I was assuming that people would catch on and nothing would need to be said about it." You weren't sure where this was going, and by his style of explaining you could tell he was trying to stall. "And.." You coax. "And so they took me saying that as we aren't officially a couple." "Why would they think that? I even flew over for Liam's birthday." You had done plenty of things to make them aware that the two of you were an item. "Yeah well since there hasn't been a statement they aren't recognizing it as anything more than a friendship. And they will continue to answer the media in the same way." "Okay, well how hard is it to make a statement? Can't you just post a picture on Instagram and tell them I'm your girlfriend?" "I could, but now that they're saying all of this about how they don't want anything official from us until after the movie premier. We have to keep everything really exclusive and kind of secretive until then." "What?! That's October." Niall nods his head and picks up his fork again. "Like I said it isn't a big deal, we weren't really ever planning on saying anything, and we don't really go out enough to make people think we're anything more than friends." "You know people are already saying we're dating, I've been around for the last four months." "I know babe, but it isn't that much longer. Just under a month." You shake your head. He was right. However, your relationship already had so many restrictions as it is, this one just added even more pressure.
Louis: You'd clearly done something; both of you. The two of you were never called into the offices at once, well almost never. Something was up. You sit with Louis in the empty boardroom silently wondering what all of the fuss was about. They had been trying to reach both of you early this morning, but both of your phones had been in the living room out of hearing range when they started ringing at half past seven in the morning. Thank God. Louis loved his sleep, and you were even worse than him. But once they had finally gotten ahold of Louis a meeting was scheduled for later that day. This was that meeting. "What do you think we did?" You question, swiveling your chair in Louis's direction with a cheeky smile. He shakes his head as the glass door opens and two members of the management team walk in along with another woman you didn't recognize, each taking their seats across the table from you. "Thanks for meeting with us on such short notice," the one in the middle says, spreading out manila folders in front of her. "What's this even about?" Louis asks, turning back and forth in his chair. He hadn't ever been one to sit still for very long. "We have a proposition for the both of you. One we believe you two will like." You look over at Louis. It was highly unlikely that anything they were proposing would be something the two of you would enjoy. "This is Rachel, she is from the E! network over in America and she would like to talk with you all about some ideas she and the network have been tossing around about a potential reality show." A reality show? You can't be serious. "You're joking right?" Louis speaks up, reading your mind. "Hear her out, Louis," the woman says, smiling over at the somewhat intimidated woman beside her. "Right, okay, we have been trying to come up with a show for our eleven o'clock slot since Chelsea Lately is now off air. We were throwing around ideas and the topic of you two came up rather quickly in our conference meeting. Louis, your life is one people can only dream about and putting it out there for everyone to see is a great opportunity. It's a guaranteed success seeing how much power your fans hold." This was ridiculous. She was literally wasting her time. There was no way in hell Louis would ever agree to do this. "And not only your fans, but it would also bring in new viewers as well. The regular network viewers would watch too, and that is great publicity for the band." Since when did One Direction need more publicity? Exactly. "It would also be another source of income for the two of you." "How exactly would this work? Like how often would the cameras be around?" Louis's inquiry catches you off guard; surely he wasn't actually considering this. "Well there would be cameras with both of you. Some at your house," she explains, looking at you with a smile as if cameras crowding your house would be a great thing. "And then some would be with you whenever you weren't at home. So either on tour, at the studio, or wherever else your job takes you. They would start filming at seven in the morning and leave at midnight." "Every day?" "Yes, every day." Louis is still turning back and forth in his chair. "How long do we have to make a final decision?" Was he serious? You had enough cameras following you around as is. Where was there any room for more? "We can give you until tomorrow afternoon." Louis nods his head, sliding the chair back from under the table. You follow him out of the room, taking his hand as he holds it out behind him. "You aren't seriously thinking about doing this are you?" You question once out in the hall and heading to the elevator. "Hell no, but I see no harm in getting their hopes up." His smile was so devious, you loved it.
Zayn: "What happened to you, Muffin?" You question, as you see the brightly colored guitarist lying on the couch, a trashcan beside him on the tour bus floor. "The Chinese screwed us," he answers. "Us?" You question. "Yeah, Blink 182 is in the bathroom. It's not good." You smirk at his use of your nicknames for his band mates. You bend down beside him, stroking his thin, bright, red hair. "Do you need anything?" You inquire, as the bathroom door opens and the miserable looking drummer appears, only to crash on the couch opposite his band mate. "What about you, do you need anything?" They look at each other. "A favor?" "Yeah, sure, what is it?" You look down at him as you still continue to stroke the newly dyed red hair. "We can't go on tonight, there's no way. But Zayn told us earlier when he was in here that you had your guitar on the boys' bus." "No," you say, knowing where this was going. "Please! They can't bring anyone else in since it's such short notice. You're an amazing singer, we've all heard you. All of those covers you do on YouTube, you're great." His pleading was making him ill, you could tell. "It was Zayn's idea," you hear from behind you. You turn and look at him helplessly. "Help us out, please." He tried to smile, but the sickness was already creeping back. "It's only one night, we will be fine by tomorrow." You turn back around, staring at the boy below you. The door to the bus opens then and Paul and Zayn emerge up the steps. "Have you asked her?" Zayn questions. They both nod. "And?" "There's no way Zayn. That is a stadium full of people. A stadium!" "We don't have anyone else for an opening act," Paul adds. "Then don't have one, there's nothing wrong with just the boys performing!" "Those fans can't sit in there until almost nine o'clock, they're already starting to file in." You roll your eyes, this was not happening. You had only sang in the comfort of your own bedroom and along with the boys on the tour bus. A stadium full of people who had paid to see anyone else but you was way too intimidating. "They don't even want to see me," you counter, making your point. "They paid to see them." You nod towards the sickly on their respected couches. "Well that's not happening tonight," Paul instructs. "What is happening is that you are going to go up on that stage, Zayn will introduce you to ease them into the idea, and you will play their slot." "That's almost an hour!" "And you can do it!" Zayn counters, causing you to glare back at him. "I don't even have that many songs. All I sing is covers. They don't want to hear me sing other people's music for an hour." "You do more than covers. You've written like five songs, sing those." You sigh, sitting down on the floor. "Does that mean you're giving up?" Zayn questions with a smile. "I hate you." "She's going to do it!" He cheers. A hand reaches to your cheek, and you turn to face the kid on the couch. "Thank you," he says weekly. "Anything for you, Muffin." "Hey, what about me?" Zayn questions, faking jealousy. "This was your idea, so I hate you." You get up from your place in the floor, pressing kisses to the cheeks of the boys on the couches before exiting out of the bus, Paul and Zayn behind you. "Don't forget your guitar," Zayn reminds you as you begin walking towards the door. You turn on your heal, glaring at him. "I swear to God if they boo me off stage I am spending the rest of this tour on the Sauce Bus and away from you." He laughs at your threats knowing how unrealistic that sort of outcome would be.
Managment Asks For A Favor
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