Hidden in Plain Sight - Larry/Niall Fanfic

Chapter 3

 A/N : Sorry it took me so long to update! Expect two chapters today, and hopefully another 2 before Christmas. :) 

Enjoy! :]

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The car ride was uneventful. It wasn’t exactly how I daydreamed of meeting my favourite people on this earth; signing a contract to be a fucking beard and all. They both seemed to be a lot calmer now anyway and Harry was staring out the window, his tears now lone gone and replaced with anger in its purest form. Both of them were silent and refused to talk to me but it was to be expected. If I was in their position right now, I’d probably kick me right up my non-existent balls.

      20 minutes passed and we were finally there. I got out of the car, staying well clear of the two boys, knowing that they needed space. I only had to stay in the bus until the fuckers took mine and Harry’s picture, right? Then two months or so and I’ll be gone, no more fake girlfriend business. At least, that’s what I hope. 

     I was surprised there was no fans outside the bus, but then again, it was 3 o’clock in the morning and we weren’t anywhere near the arena the guys were playing at. As I walked closer to the door of the black vehicle, I smiled to myself as I heard Niall’s laugh ringing in my ears.  I missed a step on the stairs though and fell flat on my face, banging my head on the hand rail on the way down.

     Zayn, Niall and Liam all came running to the front of the bus, Zayn completely shirtless and Ni wearing a baggy tank top that showed a lot more than was probably intended. Thank God for nip slips is all I can say.

     “Are you okay? Guy’s who’s this?” Liam shouted out to Louis and Haz, who still stood out in the cold air.

       “The new ‘Eleanor’,” Lou replied harshly, pushing past me causing me to nearly lose my balance again.

           “Oh, you Harold’s new “girlfriend”, huh? How much did they pay you to brainwash you into doing this? You’re ready for the whole mobs of paps and fans right? Aaand the hate can get preeeettty bad but you must be trained, I mean, you’ve been hired by our management so of course you know what you’re doing,” Zayn said as I walked onto the hallway of the bus, Harry following suit, pulling back the curtain of what I suppose was Louis’ bunk before laying down next to him in the enclosed space.

      “Actually,” I said in a ‘matter of fact’ manner , “ I woke up today, had a nice unfinished 10 minute shower, got kidnapped by two twins dressed in black, chucked in a van, drugged, brought to my best friend’s dad’s office, forced to sign a contract, and met my idols in the most unprecedented way ever. Oh, and I had threats by Mr.Page himself that he was going to blow my head to bits and now I’ve got 100 thousand quid in a fucking briefcase and I never wanted any of this to happen, nor do I need any of this. It’s all gone way to quickly for me and I’m surprised I’m not even screaming right now because I’m in a tour bus with 5 of the hottest guys on the planet so I think you should lay off me. If you want me to stay away from you, that’s what I’ll do, I get it okay?” I said, finishing my sentence with a huff before storming over to the back of the tour bus and sitting on the circular sofa, trying to calm myself down.

       A couple minutes later, Harry strolled over before sitting next to me and opening his mouth to say something but immediately closing it again. The pain in his eyes was way too much for me to handle so I got up before I felt a hand tug my own, “I don’t blame you.”

     “What? But… it was all my fault, you have every right to blame me.” I said, completely confused.

“Well, you were assassinated by Bricks and Keno, so I think it’s fair to say you had no part in this. You know, James would’ve done it. I don’t doubt that at all. But he’s never ever threatened someone like that before, consider yourself one in a million,” Haz smiled at me, trying his best to convince me that he was okay.

          A bang on the window interrupted our conversation and the bus driver went to open the door to see who it was. Surprisingly enough, it was Summer, but before he could shut the door in her face, assuming she was a fan, her foot blocked the closure and she made her way to the back of the bus carrying my purple suitcase which I’ve actually never used.

     “Summer… what are you doing here? I’m pretty sure you got the message of my ‘I really want you to drop dead, we are no longer mates’ look I gave you…”

   “I know, Franks, but I thought you’ll be needing your clothes and your favourite body wash along with your little pair of monkey knickers,” she laughed and I couldn’t help but smile at that, “Sammie packed it though. She gave me her spare key to your flat and we went and raided your bedroom. I hope you don’t mind. Anyway, Dad didn’t want me here but I didn’t want to see you walking round in one of my thongs. Here, just… I’ll be going, okay babe? I’m sorry for getting you into this mess, I really thought this was what you wanted, and I swear I didn’t know that my father was going to force you into it. Bye Francesca,” She finished, looking down slightly before handing me the dark violet case.

   It scared me that she used my full name, not even my family used it. We all had nicknames; it was the way our friendship worked within our group. I was Franki or Franks, Summer was Sums and Samantha was Sam or Sammie.  She never called me that before and although I knew now that her apology was maybe somewhat genuine, I didn’t know if I had it in me to forgive her. Her voice sounded so pained and she knew that even when I was only 5 or 6 years old, people that were hurt would kill me too, I’d break down into fits of tears. I lived to make people laugh and when I saw people the opposite, I just couldn’t comprehend it. That’s what she wanted, but I ignored my suspicions and hugged her anyway, whispering ,”I know.”

     She left out of the door and I turned back to Harry asking him if there was a spare bunk or anything.

   “Um, yeah but the only one we have is the junk bunk,” he replied sheepishly.

I already knew about the dreaded  ‘junk bunk’. It was One Direction’s pile of manky clothes, stuffed on the 6th bunk that no-one slept on. Ever. They’d spoke about it many times in interviews but when Harry led me to it, it certainly wasn’t what I expected. The whole thing was packed with shoes, white socks nearly black with dust, one of Harry’s many black skin tight jeans and a white sweater which, from the size, I supposed was Louis’ and just so much unidentifiable clothing.

    “Sorry, it’s all we’ve got. It’s either that or the sofa.”  Haz said, gesturing over to the couch we just sat on.

  “Yep. Couch. Definitely. Yep. Hmm” I mumbled, fully aware that most fans would probably hibernate in that bunk and never come out.

    I looked at the digital clock above the driver and knew I should probably have a sleep. It was already 1 in the morning and a well needed rest was probably necessary for the long day ahead.

     I walked over to the couch, cocooning my body up in my jumper, too tired to change back into my PJ’s. My eyelids hung heavily and I brought my legs up to my chest, when I felt a cover being pulled up around me and my head propped up by a pillow.

   “ Thanks,” I said, assuming it was Harry.

“No problem” an Irish accent replied.

   And as soon as I heard footsteps leading away from me, I fell asleep, no longer worried or angry, but content.