Chapter 9: Here Comes Trouble

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[ Harry ]

Niall and I stayed up until two in the morning. I had to force him to go, because he insisted to stay up and make s'mores with extra chocolate. Honestly, I was definetely in the mood for s'mores myself, but I knew he'd have a gruesome and horrific hangover tomorrow morning. And I care for Niall; he's my big brother and best mate, so I thought it'd be a terrific idea if I sent him to bed.

I, on the other hand, couldn't sleep much at all. Niall snored bloody louder than I have ever heard in my entire life, and his words were forever etched into my head.

"You're my favorite, too."

They say the truth comes out when you're drunk... And Nialk was defineteky hammered last night. So, was that the truth? I'm his favorite in the entire band? I probably sound very cheesey, but that honestly meant a lot to me.

Maybe Louis really isn't my favorite. I mean, I never really admitted to him being my ultimate favorite out of the whole band, but people assume things. I guess it's because we're the closest and we always hang out and, well, Larry Stylinson.

But now that I think about it, Niall was and always will be my favorite. I feel a bit bad about picking legitimate favorites, but you know what I mean...

I stayed with Niall all night; he was too drunk to do anything by himself. I found myself asleep on the couch in a rather uncomfortable position, because Niall hogged his own bed. Not that I wanted to sleep with him, the bed is just a bit more comfortable.

The next think I know, Niall was shaking my shoulder and shouting my name, trying ever so desperately to wake me from my slumber.

"Harry!" a deep, grumbly Irish voice shouted, interrupting my random dream of me murdering an enormous tiger shark. "Haz, get up! Simon called."

I groaned, hiding my face from the kitchen light, which was shining on my face. "No!"

"You're going to get your ass yelled out for being late, dim-whit," Niall explained.

Getting yelled at for being late? It's incredibly rare, but it's a big no-no in Simon's book. The word, "Late" doesn't even exist in his world. I groaned one last time before swinging my feet over the side of the couch and sitting up into an up-right position.

Niall's hair was... Perfect. It was touseled and flying in every direction, but he looked adorable; like a grumpy baby kitten or something cute like that. You know...

"Why did Simon call?" I asked, glancing up into his bubbly blue eyes.

Niall only shrugged. "I dunno. Apparently he called all the lads and wants us to meet up at Syco."

"Oh..." I nodded my head, my mind flickering to many possible reasons why Simon would call us on our off-day. Whatever it was, it must be serious. "Erm, do you need and icebag before we go?" I asked, noticing that Niall was rubbing his forehead tiredly.

He shook his head quickley. "No, I'm fine... Just a bit dizzy and a small headache, is all."

"No, you need one. Sit down," I demanded, pointing towards the couch beside me. I quickley got up just as Niall sat and went to go make him another icebag. It was pretty quick to make, as I knew where everything was in his flat, so I was back very fast.

"We need to get ready to go," Niall suggested as I tossed him the bag of crushed ice. "Meet me at the car in ten."

I nodded, turned around, and started my short trek down the hall. I found an empty spare room with a few of Niall's extra clothes in it, and decided to change into those. If this room had a bed, I would've slept back here.

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