inspirations // harry styles

chapter two // companions.

"And it sounds like you have a date tomorrow?" Liam asks, not hiding his disapproval to the slightest.

"Yes sir, I figured she could join us for dinner and make an appearance at Tyler's party with us," He shrugs, taking off his jacket and shoes, getting ready to settle down.

I know how Tyler's parties always end up... Complete ragers. How classy Harry. He's probably planning to get her buzzed and then get lucky. It really is no surprise Harry's the only single one out of us all.

"And how did she react to you? Did she scream, or did she cry a little?" Zayn asks, knowing how majority of girls react to us. We have numerous funny stories of female-fan encounters.

"That's the best part! I told her who I was and she had no idea whatsoever of who I am. She's different. Perhaps she doesn't even know who One-Direction is," Harry explains, catching all of us by surprise.

 There's not a single person that doesn't know who we are- whether they're huge fans or despise us.

"Does she live under a rock?" Liam asks, furrowing his brows. We all watch Harry, the one who's known for loving the perks of being famous, smiling.

"Ha. Very funny." He rolls his eyes, "I find it incredibly refreshing. This way she'll view me as a real person and all the feelings will be real. You can't write a song with forced feelings, isn't that what you were telling me, Liam?" He brings up Liam's warning from earlier this evening.

Harry flops down onto the couch, pulling out his phone as if it were nothing.

"You're a piece of work, Harry," I grumble, taking off and heading out the door. I hear Harry call after me as I head next door, to my own flat.

"Niall, don't be so selfish! You have Alicia!"

That just makes me even angrier. Yeah, I have Alicia, but the thing is that I like her and she likes me. It's mutual. It's not something I'm doing just to get something out of it.

So how can even have the nerve to call me selfish?

Olivia's POV

After getting home, I take a shower and get ready for bed. My mind is fuzzy with thoughts of tonight. So much had happened that I can't even wrap my head around it.

So I pick up my phone and call the only person I know that will listen to my crap; My best friend Tea.

"Hola, mi amigo!" She says, sounding more chipper than usual, "Why are you calling me on this lovely evening?"

I just let out a loud sigh,

"Tea, I need some spilling time," I groan.

Instantly she transforms from the goofy friend that answered the phone to the helpful, trustworthy friend that I need. That's one thing I love about her, she's willing to go to no ends for her friends.

"Let's hear it,"

How do I word this without sending her into a mad rage. She hates Tate will all the hate her heart can make. If I even mention him, she goes off on a rant saying how much of a jerk he is.

"Guess who stopped into the store today?" I cringe,

"Uh-oh,"

"Tate."

Cue Tea's angry rant.

"That little pig! What in the hell was he doing there? Did you kill him? Did you run him over with your car at least?" She roars. I can nearly picture her pacing around her poster-cover room, pulling out her own hair in frustration.