Unauthorized (Luke Hemmings Fanfic)

Chapter two

"A DATE?!?!

"Yeah, management gets so pissed when we do anything of our own accord! This will send them ballistic!" Harry couldn't wipe the grin off his face. He was obviously pleased with his idea. Possibly more than one should be. For cheese's sake it was only an idea.

I was at Harry's house. He said we had to be quick, some people were coming over soon.

At this point Harry was bouncing up and down like a kangaroo on steroids.

"C'mon Madily! It'll be fun and think about the looks on management faces when they see the headlines. Plus, it's good publicity anyways. And don't worry. No feelings I've got my eye on somebody else anyways."

I thought about it for a second. Awh fuck it!

"Fine Styles. Pick me up tomorrow at seven thirty."

I typed my number into his phone while he was putting his into mine. Damn that sounded dirty. No Madily! Bad girl. You aren't in seventh grade anymore! You may act like it, and yes that... MENTAL SLAP! No. Maturity.

"See ya tomorrow," I exclaimed when he was done. Then I proceeded to trip over my own feet while rushing away.

I swear I'm not insane. I just haven't taken my medication. Ever.

**************************************

"DING DONG, DING DONG, DING DONG, DING DONG, DING DO..."

"Goodness Harry! One is enough!"

"Sorry! You look nice."

I looked down at my outfit. I was wearing my dirty blonde hair down with a black grateful dead tank top, denim shorts, all-stars and my favorite sunglasses. I always wore bracelets, I never took them off. I even wore them to the Grammys. I had on my anklets and treble cleft earrings my grandma had given me before she passed away. I had on my silver swirly ring and my bronze ring with a heart on it. Judging by Harry's outfit I was right on guessing the "date" was casual.

Harry had on a reddish brown bandana, some band t-shirt, freakishly tight jeans come to think of it, and brown boots.

Hopefully this this would include food, because I was starving.

"So what do you have planned Monsieur Stylès?"

"I dunno. You wanna get fro-yo? There are usually a tone of paps by the place on seventh street.

"Perfect! Let us go forth my noble steed!"

"Neigh?"

"Yes Harold that is what noble steeds say, good good," I replied petting his head mockingly and cocking my hip. Hmmm what would and non-noble steed say, I thought to my self. I thought about this all the way to the fro-yo place.

I was broken out of my very important thinking by they sound of a camera flashing and a certain boy grabbing my hand.

"What the fudgecakes?"

"The paps are here! Remember, we're on a date Madiwoo," Harry said, yelling the last word.

"Ooh right!" Then remembering the paps, I laughed loudly. "Harrypoo you are too funny," I practically screamed. Harry looked at me funny. The paps were eating it up.

"Ooh, I have an idea. Do you have and Instagram Madily?"

"Sure, who doesn't?"

"Zayn."

"What?"

"Nothing. Pose!" Harry took the picture. He was making a stupid face and I was kissing his cheek.

"My girls will go crazy over this one!"

"Your girls?"

"My directioners."

"Ooooookaaaaayy..."

"What's your username?"

"@madily_123"

"Okay it's done. And three, two, one,"

"QUACK, DOING, QUACK, DOING" both of our phones went crazy at the same time. We looked at one another and grinned.

"Management."

Harry picked up his phone and put it on speaker.

"Hello?" We could hear Cassandra barely controling herself on the other end.

"Both of you need to get your asses here this very instant!"

"Okay!" I chirped!

"Yeah, we can do that, just tell me one thing Cassie darling," Harry said teasingly.

"What," she growled.

"How long is the flight back from Russia to LA?"

There was a strangled kind of noise on the other end before the line went dead. Harry and I looked at one another and burst end out laughing.

"We... Should... Probably... Go," I said between gasps of breath.

"O...Kay," Harry replied in the same manner.

**********

Are you a cat because you're purr-fect!

Mentally face palms

Gets committed to a mental ward.

Gets kicked out

Becomes a hobo.

And that's how I met your father kids.

I, kidding, you're father was a watermelon.

Why you ask.

I'm craving WATERMELON

WHILE IM MAKING MY WEY-HEY DOWNTOWN

ABBEY

GET IT?!?! Downtown abbey.

No.

Okay bi.

#crappyauthorsnote