My Shoes (Harry Styles Fan- Fic) [Completed]

Chapter Eleven- Interruption

FINALLY FOUND THE RIGHT GUYS TO PLAY PAYTON! INTRODUCING Alex Pettyfer!

Gif on side :)

Chapter Eleven- Interruption

"Wenny...Wenny..." an annoying voice called. Wenny groaned and rolled over in her bed, trying to hide from the wakeup call that was just about to happen. Her bedroom door squeaked open and she heard light footsteps enter the room. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to get out of bed.

"Wen...?" The voice asked, breaking her peace.

"What?" she groaned sleepily.

"It's time to get up." Answered the voice, who she eventually figured was Payton.

"No." Wenny said stubbornly. "Why must you bother me at such an early hour, peasent?"

Payton chuckled, looking down at the mess of curls that was sprawled out over the pillow "I forgot how snarky you get when you wake up, but Wen, its eleven o'clock in the morning, how is that early?"

Wenny sat up in the bed, hearing Payton's light laughter, and rubbed her eyes, freeing them from the effect of sleep. Did I really sleep for that long? "How isn't it early?" she replied, stretching, jokingly.

"Come on. The album release signing is in two hours. You got to get up." Payton said, using his manager's voice.

Wenny was about to complain, but Payton stopped her, saying that breakfast had been made and was waiting for her on the kitchen bench with a steaming cup of tea, but first she had to shower and make herself presentable in change the clothes that were lying on the dresser next to the door. Payton walked out of the room, and she rolled out of bed, sluggishly. She followed his orders and headed straight for the bathroom.

-

After her shower she ignored the siren calls of her bed that was begging her to return to its comforting depths, and headed out into the hallway. Wenny found Payton sitting in the living room, watching the news. He had looked away from the screen when he heard Wenny's ballet flats drag across the tiles, and he smiled at her, happy that she had followed orders for once, before his attention returned back to the screen.

The reporter on the screen was standing on the outskirts of a large car-park and behind her was a large group of people jumping and screaming. The scene held Wenny's attention for the slightest second before she shrugged her shoulders and continued to the kitchen. On her way there, she caught sight out the window of a few photographers hanging around the front of the property, hanging around the security gate that had been recently installed. It still wasn't enough to keep the really hard-core fans out, but it was an alternative until she was able to move to a better location.

As Payton had told her, she found a steaming cup of peppermint tea sitting on the bench, as well as neat little blueberry muffin placed on a saucer, beside the cup.

Her eyes widened and she quickly pranced over to the counter, practically diving on the muffin, taking a huge bite. The taste instantly melted on her tongue and she groaned with a food indulged pleasure. Payton turned around in his seat again, and gave her another smile at the sight of her enjoying the food. Payton had enjoyed the muffin that he was given as well this morning.

"Take smaller bites or you're going to get a tummy ache, Wednesday." He told her, using his terrible impression of his mother's voice, which was a high winey and nasal-y tone.

"Who made this marvellous creation? I must hire them as my muffin slave...my muffin man!"

The television had been abandon as Payton stood from the couch and glanced at the half eaten muffin in her hand.

"You mean the muffin?"

I nodded impatiently, her mouth full of food. Just tell me man!

"Harry did. He made a whole batch this morning while you were still sleeping." He answered, pointing to a container sitting on the bench. Wenny's jaw went slack and the contents of her mouthful fell onto the saucer with the rest of the muffin.

"Payton!" she exclaimed.

"Wednesday!" He replied.

"You could have killed me! What if he had poisoned the muffin batch? I could have died."

Payton rolled his eyes, turning the television off with the remote and started heading towards the door. Wenny left the muffin on the bench and sculled her tea, slightly disappointed she didn't have enough time to indulge the taste, but was glad when she didn't scald the roof of her mouth and followed Payton toward the door.

"Don't be ridiculous." he said calmly.

"But that's all I'm good at." Wenny wined, jokingly.

A frown came across Payton's face. He seemed troubled. "That's not true." He said confidently. "You're good at a lot of things."

Wenny raised an eyebrow, directing it at her friend standing in the doorway. "Oh okay, like what?"

"Well...there's the obvious thing like singing and writing songs. You're good at meeting new people, and walking out in front of a huge crowd and not looking at all bothered by it. You make meeting new people look so easy, because all you do it make them laugh, and you have fun. You're good at a lot of things, Wenny."

Wenny smiled at his analogy of her, but some of it wasn't true. She hated meeting new people; they made her nervous, because she made an idiot out of herself. That's the only reason why people laughed, because she did and would say stupid things, and it just happens to be funny. She also hated going out on stage and seeing thousands of people looking at her. In the back of her mind she knew they were all her adoring fans, but she always had a fear of going on stage.

"Then what are the not so obvious things I'm good at?" she asked, testing him.

Payton avoided looking at the girl in front of him; his gaze was stuck on his shoes. "You're good at getting lost in your music. You're good at solving puzzles, and finding the double meaning behind things. You're good at being competitive, yet gracious in defeat. You're good at moving on from what your past says about you and not letting that define you, and you do an amazing job at just being yourself. You had every opportunity of becoming some over exaggerated diva that came off a crappy television show, but you didn't. You're still the girl that prefers wearing trainers and sweatpants. You're still the same girl that reads second hand books, and sends post cards and letters. You're still the same person who enjoys walking down the street instead of cowering for cover in your old busted up car. You're good at making people love you, because you're still you; a genuine person, especially me-...."

There was a sudden knock at the door, and Wenny missed the two last words of Payton's sentence. It was Ashton who stepped into the house after she said he could come in, and stood in the front entry. She could see the Land Rover stalling in the drive way, the paps waiting more eagerly now that there was the promising sight of Wenny going outside, and she sighed, gathered her things, readying herself.

"I shouldn't be long Ashton; you can wait in the car if you like." she suggested, and he nodded, returning outside. Wenny was grabbing her phone when she heard Payton muttering to himself quietly. He sounded angry, and she gave him a concerned look. As if feeling her eyes on him, Payton froze and looked up at the younger girl.

"Are you okay?"

"Yea, I'm just tired." He played off, sounding expressionless. Wenny frowned slightly, as he made his way over to the door, shoulders slumped, feet dragging. "Come on Wen. Let's go, we're going to be late."

Wenny blinked, trying to figure out what was wrong, but not even she could read him this time. She grabbed her phone off the charger, and a bottle of water out of the fridge before racing out the door after Payton.