The meet and greet has been going on for what feels like hours now, but I’m not complaining. Not really. The room’s warm, buzzing with energy, and there’s a steady stream of fans moving along the table. I’ve lost count of how many photos I’ve posed for and how many autographs I’ve scribbled. My hand’s starting to cramp, and my cheeks ache from smiling, but I’m used to it. Still, I’m absolutely gagging for a cup of tea and a lie-down.

Louis is beside me, chatting absolute rubbish to a girl across the table, pulling faces and making her laugh. Niall’s cackling about something Liam’s said, and Zayn’s leaning back in his chair, looking cool as ever. I take a sip of water, glancing down the queue to see how many we’ve got left. My eyes skim over the faces, and then I stop.

Hang on. I know you.

Not personally, obviously, but I’ve seen your face before. More than once, actually. Tumblr, wasn’t it? You’ve got quite a popular account. I remember seeing a post you’d made after our London show last year. A photograph of yourself outside the venue, absolutely beaming. I’ve always had a fairly good memory for faces. Especially when someone’s taken the time to write something lovely about us.

I lean back in my chair, watching as the queue moves you closer. Well, this is interesting. When you’re finally standing in front of me, I grin, setting my pen down for a moment.

I tilt my head, looking at you with a slightly cheeky expression.