Chapter 1

               
NOTICE: If you would like to follow this story, you will need to have a google account to do so. Not my rules, but Bloggers/Google. I apologize to anyone for the inconvenience.  If you have a gmail account, I believe that works. I hope you enjoy Chapter 1.

SHE’S NOT AFRAID

March 28, 2015


“Tell me again why ye need to rush out to South Africa?”

“Em, we went through this yesterday,” I answer while shoving items of clothing into a suitcase.

“But ye need a break, Bex,” my very irish roommate laments dramatically from the other side of
the world.

“I have to go. Ben said he needed me,” I say rummaging around in the dresser of my hotel
room. “Where in God’s name is all my underwear?”

“I suppose ye might want to check with the hotel laundry,” Emily laughs. “Ye can’t expect to
have clean under garments if you’ve been travelling half the world taking pictures. I’m sure they
walked themselves to the laundry."

“I’ll just have to go commando until I get into Cannes. I can shop or something. They sell
underwear in Cannes, right?”

“Not like ye haven’t done it before,” she chuckles. “Yes, they sell lots of frilly things in Cannes.
How was the ceremony anyway?”

“Very sad, Em,” I sigh. “Unbelievably. Listen, I have to go. I’ll email you my flight information. I’ll
be off the grid for a while.”

“Call me, please. I’ll be at the office correcting all the parental mistakes of today’s youth. Safe
travels please,” she blows a few kisses into the phone before hanging up. My girls worry about
me. My profession as a photographer takes me to wonderful places, but also areas of conflict
and disaster zones.

Dr. Emily Delaney and I met a year and a half ago in an Irish pub in Boston. I had just returned
from my first assignment with Time Magazine in Iraq and desperately needed a drink. She was
behind the bar holding her own in an argument with a few male patrons. I sat listening intently
as she cussed at them with a sweet irish brogue. After serving them their walking papers, with
the help of two brawny bouncers, she smiled and refilled my whiskey. We started complaining
about men and the rest is history. After several months of nights carousing around Boston, we
rented out a four bedroom home with an attic.

Em, it turned out, was a child psychologist by day and a bartender for her uncle on some
weekends. She put up with my constant disappearing acts due to work and watered my plants.
Both of our leases were coming up and we figured since I was gone so much, we might as well
become roommates. At least she wouldn’t have to walk eight blocks to water my ficus.

Grace Wellington entered our lives one night and never left. I had just landed from another
assignment and was making my way out to Emily’s car. What I found were two brunettes
discussing the terrible american transportation system. Next thing we knew, Gray was moving
in with us and applying for a permanent visa. She currently works as the production manager of
the local NBC affiliate.

We’ve spent many a night at Em’s family pub, Delaney’s, causing trouble and embarrassing
Gray with our rude behavior. The three of us have been mistaken for cousins, and on occasion,
sisters. Until they hear us talk. We’re the Three Stooges, so to speak. The serious witty brit,
the ballsy irish lass and the sassy, rude american.

                                                                         ~</3~

Half an hour later, I’m buckled into the backseat of a plush limo provided by my uncle’s
production company on my way back to Cannes. My laptop sits firmly in my lap as I download
photos from my camera. I needed to have them to my editor before the end of the day. My cell
rings from my backpack as I switch cards. I fumble blindly in the bag for it.

“Yes.”

“You don’t know the question yet,” the familiar voice says loudly.

“You’re wondering if I’ve made it into the limo and if I’m on my way to the airport,” I answer.

“How do I know you’re not lying? You’re notoriously late for everything, Rebekah.” Ben knows
me too well.

“Would you like me to take a photo of the nice blonde in the short skirt they sent to drive me?”

“Hell yeah,” he laughs. “No seriously. Are you on your way?”

“Yes. Sending a private jet on a tight schedule is a bit different than flying with United,” I
mumble to him as I check the images loading. “Well that one is shit.”

“Bex, focus,” he growls into the phone.

“I am. On the job that actually pays me, Ben.”

“You know I’ll compensate you. I can’t thank you enough for doing this.”

“Well... when the man that helped you start your career calls and asks for a favor, you kind of
jump. It doesn’t hurt that I love you.”

“I know I’m pulling you away from some serious Pulitzer worthy assignments...”

“Stop. I could use the break. Who knows? I could take an amazing picture of this boy band of
yours and win one,” I interject. “What’s their name again? One something?”

“Jesus, Bex. It would help if you knew who the hell you were going to be working with,” he
groans at me. “It’s One Direction.”

“Yes, yes...That’s what makes you beautiful,” I sing off key into the phone.

“I’ll see you later. Try and do some kind of research on them, would you?” Ben hangs up before
I can respond.

“Miss Oliver...we’re here,” the driver says a moment after I feel the car stop. I gather my
belongings and step out of the car. We’re parked alongside a very boring Lear jet. There’s no
huge logo, just the identifying number. I climb the stairs and find a comfortable mix of wood and
grey leather. Individual seats line the sides of the plane. A grouping of 5 chairs is near the
cockpit. I place my camera bag in one on the rear facing seats on the left side of the plane and
sit down in its forward facing partner. A man introduces himself to me as the copilot
before he pushes my suitcase into the rear of the plane and returns a moment later telling me we will be departing soon.

After covering the aftermath of Cyclone Pam in Queensland, I was sent to France to cover a
German plane crash in the French Alps sixty miles northwest of Nice. The terrain was rough to
maneuver and we could only get so close to the wreckage. The Germanwings flight from Spain
carried 144 passengers and six crew members when it went down shortly after its last routine
contact with air control. Today, I covered a memorial service in DigneslesBains
for the victims.

Now, I’m traveling to Johannesburg, South Africa instead of Boston, Massachusetts. My
editors gave me some time off for once. I’ve been traveling for well over three months on
different assignments. And what do I do with that time off? I should be going home but I’m
taking a detour. My “uncle” called me asking me to do him a favor and help my mentor, Cal. I’ll
be photographing a boy band on their world tour for a few days starting in South Africa.
Flying alone is new. I usually travel with other photographers and journalists sent by
magazines, newspapers and news channels. There’s usually tons of chatter about where we
are headed and what is happening. This is a million times better and I can focus on my recent
photos.

Ten short minutes later, we are heading down the runway on our way to Johannesburg.
Spending the first few hours of the fourteen hour flight listening to music on my phone and
downloading my work, I find I’m bored as hell. I use the washroom and grab a water bottle from
a small fridge near the rear of the plane. As I return to my seat, the copilot exits the cockpit.

“Would you like anything to eat? . Mr. Winston requested a few things for you.”

I find myself staring at him. His british accent is thicker than Gray’s.

“Sorry. That would be amazing,” I answer feeling the blush creep up my skin.

“We picked up some cheeseburgers and pizza. Which would you care for, Miss?”

Hoping Ben loves me, I choose a burger. The man strolls casually down the aisle toward the
rear. A few moments later, he returns with what I recognize as a BBQ Bacon burger and tater
tots on a piece of fine china. After setting the plate down, he hands me a wrapped set of cutlery.
“God Bless, Ben!” I say moving my laptop to the other end of the table.

“Mr. Winston was very specific about the order. Enjoy,” he says as he heads back into the
cabin with a few containers of his own.

Picking up a tot, I remember to say, “Thank you!” I moan to myself as I chew the tot. They’re
hot, presumably sitting in a warmer in the kitchen area of the jet. I polish off the burger and
decide to take care of the plate. I quickly wash the china and unused cutlery. I find the correct
place for both and return to my seat. I scroll through some emails on my laptop, quickly finding
myself bored again. I pull out my kindle and chose to read for a bit. My eyes begin to droop
three pages into chapter 22 of East of Eden.

Hours later, the copilot is waking and asking me to secure my belongings for landing. A fairly
smooth touchdown and a few stretches later, we’re lugging my bags off the plane. The darkness
has me slightly disoriented. I pass through customs without much issue but pray there isn’t any
damage to my memory cards. Ben’s dark head of hair pops up from a small seating area ahead
of me.

“Geez Bex, you gotta stop growing up!” He hugs me tight and laughs. “How was the flight?”

“Okay,” I nod as I readjust my camera bag on my shoulder. He takes my remaining luggage.

“Do you think my favorite Uncle might be able to find me a clothing store? I need to pick up a
few personal things.”

“You’ll have to go tomorrow. Everything’s closed. It’s one in the morning, Bex.”

“Oh, right,” I say yawning into my hand.

“Let’s get you back to the hotel,” he laughs.

                                                                        ~</3~
We pull up to our rather posh looking hotel after a short drive. As usual, I grab my camera bag
and let the hotel staff take the rest. The conversation between us is easy as always. We talk
about the things going on in our lives. His with the boyband and upcoming talk show and mine
while on my assignments.

The air shifts and my nose picks up a definite male scent. A moment later, a tall figure in a
oddly patterned shirt flies past us with a smaller male in tow yelling at him in an irish brogue.

“Where’d you think you’re goin’ with that, H!”

“I’m taking it to my room. I have some songs to write,” he says continuing on his way. “Ben.”

“Ye won’t be waking me up again with your horrific playin’!” The other yells chasing after him.

“Hello to you too,” Ben calls after him. Something about both these boys is familiar but I can’t
quite place it. “They’ve just gotten in from a show. They’ll be up for a while.”

“Bex...hey...where’d you go?”

“Sorry,” I say shaking off the feeling. “I’m just tired.”

“Let’s get you to your room. Are you hungry?” Ben says as we make our way down the hall.

“I could use a shower and a comfy bed. I don’t suppose I can get away with not talking about
work tonight?” I ask as he swipes a card on the door and hands it to me.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I’ll try not to bother you. I’m just up the hall, 2256, if you decide you want
to eat.”

“Thanks,” I say pecking him on the cheek. I step into the spacious room. My bags are placed
neatly next to the bed. It’s not a suite but it feels like one. The rooms I’ve slept in while on
assignment could only be described as bare bones. A bed, a small table and a shared bathroom
down the hall. Being one of the only females, I never had to share a room.

Pulling out a pair of shorts and a tank top, I start the water in the bathtub and strip down. A
good soak will relax me and maybe help me fall asleep. I spend the time downloading the
released albums by One Direction onto my iphone and listen to a few songs off the first album
before getting out. I dress in a pair of shorts and a tank top before flopping on to the plush bed.

“Just me and the moon...” I mumble to myself glancing out the window. The moon has become
my companion. No matter where I am in the world, the moon is always there. You can’t exactly
bring someone with you while you’re photographing death and destruction.

                                                                            ~<3~
The sound of someone singing and laughter wakes me from my short nap. Or what I thought
was a short nap. The clock next to the bed reads just after eleven. A short rap on my door
followed by Cal’s voice calling me forces me to sit up.

“Hang on,” I say as I rub my eyes and make my way to the door. I open it and find his smiling
face.

“Jeez, Bex. Put some clothes on!” He covers his eyes and turns his back. I check and I’m still
in the shorts and tank from last night.

“Whatever,” I groan. “What do you want?”

“We’re meeting downstairs in about an hour for a production meeting and then heading out to
the stadium. I need you in the meeting so you’ll need to get ready.”

“Oh...alright,” I say stepping back into my room. “I’ll be down as soon as possible.”

“Cal!!” A soccer ball races over his head just barely missing him.

“Louis, you are going to get us kicked out of the hotel,” he yells. He smirks at me and says,
”Apologies! Boys will be boys.” Turning quickly, he heads in the direction of the ball.

A flash of brown hair passes by quickly. “Morning, Love,” the young man says with a laugh.

An old memory flashes in my head reminding me that I have met these young men before.
While in school, I did a small turn as an intern for Cal while he did some promotional
photography for a young up and coming boy band. I spent most of the day carrying his
equipment back and forth, handing him different cameras and checking lighting levels. He would
talk to me about all the details of the photos as we went through them on his computer.

He really helped shape my “eye”, so to speak, when it came to an image. As I went through the
rest of my course study, Cal would graciously take my calls, give me honest critiques on my
photographs and ended up becoming a friend.

As I pull my tank top over my head, someone else is knocking on the door.

“Just a second!” I yell deciding my current attire isn’t very appropriate for company. I pull it back
over my head quickly. “Sorry!” I say opening the door.

A thin, white haired woman smiles at me. “I’m Lou! How are you, love?” She makes her way
into the room holding a small bag.

“Hello, Lou. I’m Bex,” I say closing the door. “Can I help you with something?”

“It’s not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you,” she laughs holding up the bag.

“These, love, are new pants for you.”

“Pants?”

“Knickers. Underwear...”

“Ohhhh...um. Who...” I stammer in embarrassment.

“Please! A beast of a man named Winston asked me to hook you up. Voila!” She smiles and
places the bag in my hand.

“Well, thank you. I appreciate this,” I say looking through the pairs of undergarments noticing
the sizes are correct. “How did you know I needed them?”

“Ha...funny that. Apparently, you’re infamous for traveling commando. Cal said you were
probably close to my size. I just figured maybe a size up. I’m pretty thin. He was fairly red in
the face trying to describe you. I’m off! We’ll see you later today!” She sweeps through the
room to the door.

I’m not sure how she managed to get me underwear, but I appreciate it none the less. I toss the
entire bag into my suitcase and make my way to the shower.

                                                                         ~</3~

Forty five minutes later and frustrated as hell, I’m standing at the front desk of the hotel arguing
with a young man.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I cannot tell you if there’s any meetings going on involving any of our guests,”
he smiles at me.

“Seriously! I’m a guest of this hotel and an employee of Cal Aurand! You can look up the
room,” I argue.

“Again, I’m very sorry...” he starts but I cut him off when I spot Cal.

“Calvin!”

“Hold the elevator, I’ll be right there,” he says to the tall brunette he’s with as he makes his way
toward me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sir, this young woman is insisting she is with your party,” the desk clerk says looking me up and
down.

“She is. This is Rebekah Oliver. She’s one of my photographers. If she needs anything, give it
to her,” Cal says wrapping his arm around me.

The young man looks rather embarrassed and begins typing information into the hotel
computer.

“Yes, Sir. I’ve made a notation in the system. My sincerest apologies, Miss Oliver.”

“Come on. We’re running late,” my savior says pulling me toward the open elevator doors. We
step in and find the brunette leaning on the wall of the elevator on her phone.
I nudge Cal with my elbow and give him a “What the hell?” look before whispering, “Really Cal. I
didn’t take you for that kind of guy.”

He chuckles which causes the other occupant to look up. My breath hitches in my chest.

A pair of green eyes and a furrowed brow looks between Cal and me. It’s a man. A rather good
looking, long haired man. The blush of embarrassment begins to cover my skin, but I cannot
look away.

The young man looks to be in his mid twenties. His jeans are black (and tight) covering a pair of
saddle colored boots. His shirt is either missing buttons or intentionally left open revealing a
tattoo just under his pecs that I can’t quite make out.

The elevator stops forcing me out of my induced trance. I clear my throat and look to Cal.

“I’ll see you later,” the deep rasp of the young man’s british accent sends a shock through me as
he passes through the now open door.

“I’m sorry,” I stammer to Cal. “I thought...”

“It’s okay. He’s been mistaken for a girl before,” he laughs as we step off ourselves.

A loud “Oi Oi” can be heard from one of the conference rooms on our floor. It’s immediately
followed by someone singing “Dick in a Box”, which causes me to chuckle.

“You’re here! Let’s get this started,” a man says at the head of the table. “We’ll start with the
security badges.” He begins to call out names of people in the room. The woman who brought
me the underwear earlier, Lou Teasdale, appears to be the hair stylist for the group.

“Oliver Bex.”

I’m busy scoping out the people in the room and not paying attention.

“Oliver?”

“I played Oliver in school. Please, Sir...may I have some more,” the young blond irish boy jokes.
Everyone laughs as Cal pokes me.

“Oh, sorry. That’s me,” I say sweeping past the table.

“Jaysus...that’s not an Oliver. That’s an Olivia...”

“Shut it, Niall.”

I take the badge and make my way back to where Cal is standing. I don’t look up as I stand
next to him.

“Everyone, we’ve had some changes in the last few weeks,” my friend announces. “Ben and I
have asked a personal friend for some help with the show. I’d like to introduce Bex Oliver.
She’ll be working with me for the next few dates of the tour.”

I look up at the faces in the room and immediately recognize one of them. I smile gently at the
blueeyed, brown haired young man. He smiles back.

“Hello,” I say giving a small wave.

“Welcome, Bex,” the man at the head of the table smiles, “I’m Paddy. I’m personal security.
We’ll continue on with the meeting and you can meet everyone after.”

“Sure,” I nod in agreement.

The rest of the meeting pertains to schedules, travel updates and accommodations for the rest
of this leg of the tour and finally production. Cal takes over this portion of the meeting. I slip
into a seat at the table with the small steno pad I brought with me and begin taking notes.
Several cameras are used during the show focused on each band member. I learn Cal usually
is all around, and up on the stage at times, with a hand held video camera. He smiles and tells
the group that I will be handling the actual photography instead of him.

“Oh boy,” Lou laughs from the other side of the room.

“It’ll be fine,” Cal reassures her with a chuckle of his own.

“Have you looked at her, Salt?”

“I’m fine wit it!” The blond says raising his hand in the air enthusiastically. “Boys?”

“It’ll be buzzin’, Lou,” the one I recognize laughs.

“The four of you idiots will be playing to the lens for sure,” she says shaking her head.
“Welcome to the world of One Direction, Love.”

“Uh...thanks,” I say as the three very good looking young men look at me with mischief in their
eyes.

“Right then...it’s settled. Meeting adjourned. We’ll be heading to the arena later. Have a good
day, everyone! Bex, can you stick around for a minute?” Cal asks as everyone else leaves the
room.

“Boys meet Rebekah Oliver,” he says walking toward me.

“Hello, Love.”

“I remember you,” I smile and offer my hand. “Louis, right?”

“Yes, it’s good to see you again. Been a while, yeah?” He nods shaking my hand.

“I think I’d remember if I met you,” the irish one pipes in. I laugh and offer him my hand. “I’m
Niall Horan.”

“Rebekah, but everyone calls me Bex.”

“Pleased to meet you, Love. Liam Payne,” the third one smiles. “How do you know Tommo?”

“While I was finishing my degree, I spent a few days with Cal while he did some photography for you. If I walked past you on the street, I probably wouldn’t recognize you but Louis here,” I say smiling at him. “His smile doesn’t change a bit. He also walked past my room a bit ago and he said
something that jogged my memory.”

“My memories failing,” Niall whines. “I remember everyone.”

“I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself. It’s been about 3 years since then. We all look a tad bit
different,” I try to assure him. “I honestly didn’t put two and two together until this morning.”

Liam and Louis share a look, almost as if they’re holding a private conversation without words.

“Let’s get something to eat and I can show you some videos of the last few shows so you’re
familiar, Bex,” Cal offers. “There’s a great restaurant down the street.”

The other three boys are now talking quietly between themselves. Liam face shows concern
when he looks back at me.

“Did you want to join us?” I ask smiling.

“Oh, no...don’t worry about us, Love,” he says quietly. “We’re getting ready to leave.”

“Alright. I hope I won’t be in your way the next few days. If I do get underfoot on stage, just kick
me,” I laugh as we leave the room.

“You’ll be great,” Louis says nodding at me. “Have fun with Cal.”

AUTHOR NOTE: Comments/Questions are always welcome. Thank You for reading.
All the Love, x.