When Lennon met Harry

So... I'll just sit here and wait then

One month later

I wish I could say Harry was blown away by my sparkling wit and dazzling personality, but of course he wasn't. He must meet so many people on a daily basis, our little conversation on that balcony must have been out of his mind as soon as he walked away.

It wasn't his choice and I can't say if he'd have picked me anyway. It's one thing to talk to someone you happen to be in the same breathing space as, quite another to employ someone with no qualifications and only a vague sense of social norms to organise your entire career.

Which is why they didn't choose me.

Star rang me a week later to say that I'd kind of, sort of, got the job.

Well, not THE job but a job.

I'm 'part of Harry's team'

I have no idea what this means. It makes him sound like a superhero with a load of minions. So I'm a minion. The littlest runt minion who has even even less of a clue what to do than the rest.

Unsurprisingly, they chose one of the other girls to be his actual PA. Stars friend managed to get me a job though, but I'm yet to find out what it actually is. All I know is that my hours aren't set and they'll call me when they need me.

Which appears to be never.

It's been three weeks and I still haven't heard anything, apart from being called to an extremely boring meeting to sign a load of confidentiality forms and stuff. There was a clause saying that I wasn't allowed to have a relationship with my employer, ie Harry. There's zero chance of that. My closest relationship right now is with the fridge and the couch.

So. I'm still living at Glens. I'm still broke. I have an ambiguous job title and I'm yet to work a single day in my new role.

Still, since I met him I've actually given One Direction a listen.

Actually they're pretty decent. Who knew?

***

The living room door opens Glen walks in clutching a mug of tea. He's wearing an oversized backstreet boys T-shirt and his boxers. Glen has obsessively attached himself to every boyband since the 90s.

"Christ, are you still in bed?"

"It's hardly a bed." I mutter, pulling my duvet up along the couch so he has room to sit down.

"Sorry if the free accommodation isn't up to your standards princess." I roll my eyes and take the tea off him.

"What are you doing today?" I ask the daily question, as if either of us actually do anything on a day to day basis.

"Well... I've got a date."

"What?!"

"Yeah... I'm going for a coffee with this guy-"

"Which guy?"

He pauses.

"I met him on tinder-" He quickly holds up his hand to shush me as I groan. "No, this one seems really sweet, he's-"