Imagine, in 20 years. You’re in the car and your daughter bugs you to change the radio station. So you slam a random button and hope its a song she’ll enjoy. The mans voice on the radio speaks. You sigh and almost hit the next button. “This ones for all you older ladies. I know you remember the words. Sing along.” A familiar guitar strum sounds. From Grease maybe? Then the cowbell. And suddenly, you remember. “What’s this?” You’re daughter asks. “Sh.” You say turning it up as the words come in. “You’re insecure, don’t know what for.” The picture of Liam’s face pops into your head. On that beautiful beach in LA. Without meaning, you begin to sing along. All the boys memories flood your head. The fandom, the tweets, the fights, the concerts, the trips, the fangirling, the friends. Your eyes tear up instantly. The song ends and you can’t help but shut the radio. You’re not in the mood to listen anymore. “Who was that?” Your daughter asks. You wipe the tear from your eye and half laugh. “Just a band I used to like.” You say. There’s no reason explaining it all to her. She’ll never understand just how much One Direction meant to you.
Reblog if this will be you one day.