In 2012, I spent all 24 hours of a family road trip to Florida listening to One Direction’s “Take Me Home” album. I had my dad’s hand-me-down Nexus S phone that allowed me to take photos, play games and listen to music. The album is only 55 minutes long, but I was more than content with having it on a loop. “C’mon C’mon” and “Heart Attack” were my hyperfixation songs.
Although I eventually stopped checking Twitter every hour for 1D updates and slowly replaced their music for another British boy band, The 1975, my love for the group never truly faded.
One Direction member turned solo singer and songwriter Liam Payne died Oct. 16 at the age of 31. I was, and still am, in an absolute state of shock. I received text messages from friends I had not talked to since middle school. When these tragedies happen, it can feel strange to grieve someone you’ve never met. In this case, it was someone who in recent years I didn’t keep up with. Payne’s death in many ways feels like an end to childhood.
Above all things in my childhood, I was a Directioner. In 2010, I started following their X-Factor journey, tuning into their video diaries and crying when they didn’t win the show. One Direction was the first fandom I joined. I knew every inside joke from Kevin the pigeon to the “Vas Happenin” song. I spent part of my family’s Easter Sunday celebration in 2012 watching iCarly because they were going to be on the episode. My notebook in fifth grade was dedicated to a countdown to their 2013 Documentary “This is Us.”
Payne’s death has broken my childhood self. The kid who dreamed of seeing them in person and spent every second of her free time watching compilations of their funniest moments.
Everyone had their favorite member of the group, mine being Niall Horan. That favorite member was a part of your identity as a fan. I chose Horan as my favorite for a very elementary school reason. I had just gotten clear braces and was feeling insecure about my smile. Coincidentally enough, Horan had just gotten his. I immediately felt a kinship with him and from that moment on, he was mine. Even though I favored Horan, the rest of the group meant the world to me.
One Direction was a bonding force between friends. I loved going over to my friend Valerie’s house because she had a life-sized poster of the group. During elementary school recess, my friends and I would sit on the playground and test each other on fun facts and lyrics. I bought every copy of the J-14 magazine I could get my hands on, smuggling it into school to trade posters and gossip that was definitely made up by the editors.
I still feel shellshocked from Zayn Malik’s exit from the group in 2015. This past week has felt a little bit like that. My social media feeds are filled yet again with old photos, song lyrics and interviews. I feel like a kid again in the worst way. I grieve my younger self who went to their music for comfort.
One Direction’s antics were always silly, and they gave fans a reason to laugh in the hardest times. Although they were massive superstars, they felt like people you could be friends with. They were extremely accessible through their social media presence, a feat that is especially rare today.
Liam Payne’s death has brought an outpouring of support across the One Direction fandom. Despite the band going on indefinite hiatus, I and a lot of fans had always held on to the hope that one day they’d reunite. Payne's passing has crushed that dream.
In the weeks leading up to his death, Payne was surrounded by controversy, but that didn’t diminish the shock everyone felt when they heard the news. Despite everything, Payne’s impact on a generation of fans and their memories of One Direction will never be forgotten.
Today, I remember Liam Payne’s fear of spoons, an anecdote so strange, yet hilarious. I feel lucky to have loved something so hard at such a young age. And now, I will continue to celebrate Payne’s legacy and the songs that shaped me.
