Friends.

Chapter 67

“This, my beautiful girl, is Brisbane.” His hand rests on my thigh as he drives through the city of another foreign town and I stare out the window, trying to let it all sink in and taking mental pictures for my memory. I’m so devastated to leave Melbourne, I really loved it there, but after a night of post-concert drinking in Adelaide with Harry and Ed, and staying the night, we had to fly here for the show in Brisbane tomorrow night. Harry assures me the rest of the boys would’ve flown here by now.

“Remind me again why we’re not just staying here?”  

“Because we’d get mobbed, but if we stay a bit out of town, at a place called the Gold Coast, there

“Poor fans in Brisbane who actually want to meet you.” I roll my eyes.

“Trust me, you’ll like the beach. You’ll be able to wear the swimwear you bought.” He looks away from the road long enough to raise his eyebrows at me.

“Eyes on the road. It’s concerning enough that you’re driving in a foreign country, I need you to be alert, I would like to actually survive this trip.” I smirk and he smacks my leg.

“I’m a good driver, besides I drove here last time we came, it’s fine.” He assures me and I resume peering out the window, though we’re no long driving amidst sky high buildings, instead we’re on a three-lane highway, with forestry lining either side.

“What’s there to do at the Gold Coast?” I ask, digging my phone out of my bag so I can do something to pass the time.

“Well there’s a beach, lots of beaches. But I don’t really know anything else, cause I’m generally stuck inside.” He shrugs and I find myself staring at him for a really long time, he bites his lip while he checks his mirror, switching lane. His concentration face is adorable and if we weren’t driving at 110 kilometres an hour I would definitely be tempted to distract him by means of my hand running up his thigh.

“You really really need a hair cut.” I laugh, looking at that stupid ponytail that is both  ‘what the fuck’ and ‘the hottest thing in the world’, in my personal opinion.

“I like it. Don’t you?” He pouts.

I would respond to his question, but my jaw has fallen to the floor and is incapable of functioning properly to get words out. In my mindless scrolling through twitter, I am overwhelmed with images that…I was not expecting.

“Don’t you?” He repeats, before looking over to me to see why I haven’t responded.

“What’s wrong?” He questions.
“P-pull ov-er.” My eyes fixated on the screen, my voice shakey as he veers off to the left into an emergency parking bay.

“You’re scaring me.” He says, taking the phone from my hand, immediately dropping it when his eyes drink in the image on the screen.

A camera captured our embrace at the Ed concert. And not just a hug, a full on kiss, my hands in his hair, his hands digging into the curve of my arse. I thought we were hidden.

His eyes are wide as I look over at him, picking the phone up from his lap where it fell.

“Holy fuck.” I finally say, gathering some composure.

“Shit.”
“Oh God. Louis.” The familiar wave of guilt washes over me at the thought of him seeing these photos. Fuuuuuuck. Everyone knows…this is awful!

“He’s a big boy, he’ll be okay.”

“Yeah he might, but I won’t! Fuck. Do you know what this means? I’ve been photographed kissing three different members of one direction. Louis hates me, Lou hates me, fuck, your whole fandom is going to hate me. Oh my god, your Mum!” Oh poor innocent Anne is going to see this pictures and hate me too.