March 2015

4.55pm. I had been watching the time for at least ten minutes, as the second hand jerked painfully slowly around the clock face, counting down the seconds until the end of my working day. It had been a long week, but it was finally Friday and I was looking forward to getting home, having a hot bath and eating my own body weight in chocolate in front of the television.

"Jess! Got any plans tonight?" my colleague Sarah called from her desk opposite mine, and I shook my head as I tidied a few glitter pens away and locked my drawer.

"Nope. Quiet night in tonight," I told her.

"Shame," she remarked. "I was hoping you might be in the mood for a night out. My sister has two VIP tickets to Cirque Le Soir nightclub in Soho for her and her boyfriend, but she's just texted me - she's got a tummy bug so she can't go. She's asked me if I want them."

I snapped my head up and met her gaze excitedly. "Cirque Le Soir?"

She nodded, grinning. "Yep. Where Niall, Louis and Liam are known to visit when they're in London. And considering they have just begun a week-long break in between shows...." she let the sentence hang and pulled an overly nonchalant face.

"Oh come on, you don't think any of them will be there do you?" I said. "I mean, I wish, but how unlikely is it? Would you fly all the way back from Japan and head straight to a club, or would you go home to bed?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Jess, you're such an old woman. Where's your sense of adventure?! These are free VIP tickets! Even if no one famous is there, it will still be an amazing night. Come onnnn... what do you say?"

"I don't know," I sighed. "I was looking forward to watching the soaps with a bottle of wine -"

"If One Direction are papped leaving that club tonight, how will you feel knowing you had the opportunity to be there but turned it down in favour of Eastenders?" Sarah demanded. "You will be gutted. And I'll be on Harry's arm, obviously."

I laughed out loud at this. "Harry never goes anywhere like that anymore. He stays under the radar."

"Just because he isn't papped doesn't mean he doesn't go anywhere," she pointed out. "Are you willing to take that risk?"

I sighed and looked out the window at the dwindling late afternoon sun. A hot bath and comfy pyjamas, or a tight dress and painful high heels? There wasn't really any contest for me.

"I think I'll give it a miss," I replied.

~~~

Four hours later I found myself shivering in the queue outside Cirque Le Soir as the crisp March air whipped around my bare legs, raising goosebumps on my skin and causing my insides to quiver; from the cold or nerves, or maybe both, I wasn't sure. Beside me, Sarah was desperately trying to keep her cool.

"What if they're actually in there?" she asked in a hoarse whisper. "What if we come face to face with one of them? Oh God, if it's Harry I don't think I'd survive it. I think I'd die right there, in front of him, in a miserable mess on the floor at his feet."

"Don't," I muttered, feeling a flutter in my stomach at the mere sound of his name.

Did I mention I was a One Direction fan? Of epic proportion? And that Harry Styles had been my guilty crush for the past two years since I took my teenage sister Maddie to her first concert in 2013, to the point where a picture of Harry was my desktop wallpaper on my work laptop, Kiss You was my ringtone, and I read every article I could lay my hands on about him and the rest of the band. And no, twenty two was not too old to be a fan, thank you very much. Although my older brother enjoyed taking the piss out of me at every opportunity for being an "adult Directioner."

"Did I bring the VIP passes?" Sarah worried, opening her bag for what was possibly the tenth time since we had joined the queue five minutes earlier, and rifling through it.

"Yes," I said firmly. "They are in the little zip compartment. You already checked."

"Sorry," she said breathlessly. "I'm just so fucking nervous. How are you not a wreck? Why am I the only one freaking out?"

"Because it's highly unlikely any of them are going to be in there," I answered. "Trust me, if I actually thought for one moment that I might come face to face with Harry, I'd..." I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence as my legs gave a discreet wobble at the thought of meeting Harry Styles. I refused to work myself up into a state, because it would undoubtedly be a huge letdown when it didn't happen. Don't get me wrong, I secretly hoped with all my heart that one day fate would land me in Harry's path, and my deluded inner fangirl regularly fantasised that he would fall hopelessly in love with me and whisk me off into the sunset on his private jet. But I was also a realist, and I knew the chances of any of One Direction, much less Harry, being in attendance tonight were slim to none.

"They're letting us in," Sarah hissed, as one of the bouncers moved the rope aside and allowed us to approach the entrance.

"Do you have membership?" one of the doormen asked.

"Um, yes, I mean, no, we have tickets - passes - VIP... things," Sarah stammered, and fumbled again in her bag. The doorman waited patiently while she retrieved them, and then took them from her trembling hands and examined them closely. He scanned them with a small handheld machine, and glanced down at the screen before nodding.

"Welcome to Cirque Le Soir. This way please."

"Oh my God," Sarah muttered faintly as he opened the door and ushered us inside the door, through the foyer and into the club.

I took a moment to take in the surroundings. The entire venue was circus themed, hence the name, and all around the room were various different performing acts; from magicians, to fire-eaters, to a man swallowing a variety of metal objects in front of a crowd of spectators. The music wasn't my usual choice (ie it wasn't One Direction) but the people on the dance floor seemed to be enjoying themselves and some were dancing provocatively, rubbing up against one another and running their hands over each others' bodies. It was like no club I had ever been to before. I was fascinated by all of it.

"Let's get a drink, I need to calm my nerves," Sarah said, and she grabbed me by my hand and headed past a man on a unicycle in the direction of the bar that was already packed two people deep. 

"This place is weird," I mused, watching the crowd on the dance floor as they swayed to the music and gyrated against each other. I glanced at Sarah's black dress, with its plunging neckline and flowing chiffon folds down the side, and then critiqued my own dress: dark blue, with a short hemline and no sleeves, that hugged every curve of my body. I had worried I would be out of place with my choice of outfit, but now if anything I felt under-dressed compared to everyone else. The girls around us had perfectly manicured nails, designer labels and expensive blow drys; the men wore mostly tailored trousers and shirts, with gleaming cufflinks and aftershave that probably cost more than my entire week's wages.

"Do you think they serve Prosecco?" Sarah wondered. "I don't want to be laughed at for asking. What if they only serve Champagne?"

"I'm sure there'll be a variety," I told her, peering over the shoulder of guy who looked about my age, perusing the cocktail menu. 

We bought a jug of Cosmopolitan (we nearly fell through the floor at the bill) and then weaved our way round the edge of the dance floor to the VIP area. A bouncer that must have been at least six foot five moved the rope aside for us, and we slipped into the first available booth and grinned wildly at each other.

"This is fucking intense," Sarah said, barely able to contain her excitement. "Although I'm glad it's a one off. I might need to take out a mortgage to pay for another of these cocktails."

"It's the city," I shrugged. "And we're in one of the most elite places. I'm not exactly surprised."

"It's a good way of keeping out the riff raff," Sarah observed, and I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Sarah - you do realise that we are the riff raff."

We stared at each other for a moment, and then broke into hysterical cackles at the sheer excitement and disbelief of being in a place like this. I felt my phone buzz in my bag, and I pulled it out to see my friend Callie was ringing me. 

I answered it and held it to my ear, but over the loud music I could barely hear a word she was saying. "I can't hear you!" I shouted. "I'm in a club and I don't think I've got much reception!"

I heard her shout something back, but I couldn't decipher it over the noise and eventually pulled it away from my ear and hung up. I typed out a quick text:

To: Callie: I'm so sorry, I'm in Cirque Le Soir on a 1D mission (don't judge.) I can't hear myself think and I'm out of signal. Are you OK? Text me back if you get this xx

I pressed send, but after several attempts it became clear that it wasn't going to work, so I held it in the air in a last effort to get just one bar of signal. I was so preoccupied that I was unaware that opposite me Sarah was quietly having a mini meltdown.

"Jess," she whimpered. "Jess. Jess!"

"What?" I asked, distractedly, jabbing the send button before locking my screen and throwing my phone impatiently in my bag. "Seriously, why do places like this have lead-lined walls? It's so annoying."

"Jess, I think that's Louis Tomlinson."

"What?" I squeaked, starting to turn round, but Sarah grabbed my shoulders and held me still. 

"No! Don't make it obvious! He's facing this way - oh my God..."

"What?" I hissed. "Are you serious? Is it really him? Oh fucking hell Sarah don't do this to me, don't be winding me up, I can't take it. I'm not ready."

"I think it is," she moaned.

"You think? You think?" I demanded. "How can you not know?"

"I don't think I believe my eyes," she wailed.

"I need to see this for myself," I stated. "Where am I looking?"

"OK, just turn around slowly, about two o'clock, wearing a white tshirt, jeans and Vans, looking completely out of place."

"I don't even need to turn round," I said. "It's him, isn't it? Wearing that outfit, it could only be Louis."

"I need you to confirm," she begged. "Just don't make it obvious. Oh God, he's literally facing me, about ten feet away. It's a good job this music is loud and he can't hear me freaking out."

As discreetly as I could, I shifted in the booth and casually twiddled the straw in my drink as I glanced over my shoulder. My gaze fell straight on a pair of bluey green eyes, looking straight at me. My heart came to a complete stop as our eyes locked for a second, and a hot flush instantly began flooding my body. He gave a slight smile, and nodded at me briefly, before I panicked and turned back around to face Sarah.

"He just fucking smiled at me," I hissed. "Eye contact and everything. Fuck."

"Fuck!" she hissed back.

"I know," I said, my voice strangled as I struggled to breathe.

"No, you don't," she said, in an equally strangled tone. "He's coming over. He's heading straight to our booth. Oh my God be cool be cool be cool - hi!"

I froze in my seat, unable to look up. Why was I suddenly unable to function like a normal human being? 

"Hi," came a voice I recognised from thousands of videos on YouTube and four albums that were constantly on repeat on my iPod. "I don't suppose you'd mind us sharing your booth would you? We'll move to our own as soon as one becomes available."

My heart was banging in my chest so hard I felt sick. I lifted my head to look at him, and the sight of his face up close caused a twist in my stomach so painful I almost winced.

"Of course," someone answered. "Sit down." 

I looked over at Sarah, but she was staring at me with what could only be described as an expression of awe, and I realised my mouth had answered for me.

I shifted along in the booth, moving my cocktail glass out of Louis' way and very nearly spilling it all over the table, and he slid into the booth next to me, his friend (whom I recognised with another painful jolt of nervous excitement and disbelief to be Oli Wright) taking a seat next to Sarah.

"I'm Louis," he said, extending his hand and smiling mischievously at me.

"Jess," I replied, taking his hand and shaking it, praying to every god in the universe that he couldn't tell I was trembling. "Nice to meet you."

---***---

Thoughts? :)