Harry, Edward and Marcel

Chapter 23

"Harry, wake up," someone whispered in my ear. I groaned and rolled onto my back, my eyes still closed.
"Harry," the Irish accent spoke again. "It's nearly 6. You've been sleeping for almost four hours," Niall said again. I slowly fluttered my eyes open and turned to look at him.
"Come on sleepy head. The other two should be here soon," he spoke again, standing up from my bed and walking to the door.
"Get up!" he playfully yelled at me.
"Yes Dad!" I yelled back, sitting up on the bed. Niall smiled at me and shook his head as he walked out. When he did, I fell forwards on the bed and found another comfortable position to sleep in but I heard a faint knock from the door outside.
"They're here BooBear, get up!" Louis yelled as I watched him, through my open bedroom door, walk over and open the front door.
I watched as Edward nodded his head and walked in followed by a relaxed Marcel. Looks like he forgot about our earlier talk. I wish I had.
After about a minute of me trying to motivate myself to get up, I groggily made my way out of the bedroom and walked into the lounge room where everyone was chatting on the couch.
"Hi," I heard Marcel say cheerfully when he noticed me walk in. I smiled in his direction and went over and sat next to him on the arm of the chair.
"What's happening," I smiled when he leant his head on me.
"The boys were just telling us that we can have dinner here," Edward smiled, rubbing his stomach.
"How can you even be hungry still?" Niall said to him. "I'm still stuffed from breakfast," he gagged.
"134 pancakes aren’t enough to fill me," Edward smiled, patting and talking to his stomach.
"How did you survive when we lived alone?" Marcel chuckled. "Cereal for breakfast, fish or something for lunch and salad for dinner," Marcel said and I was confused.
"Is that all you ate?" I asked and Edward shrugged.
"That's what I normally ate. But don't worry about be. Personally I think Marcel has an eating disorder because he eats next it nothing normally," he said. Marcel sat up off me and slapped Edward's arm.
"I have a lot of things but an eating disorder isn't one of them," he said back, his voice going from playful to strict.
"I know but think about it. You have a piece of fruit for breakfast because you don't want to go down but you normally skip it anyway. You never have lunch unless it's a muesli bar from a vending machine at your work, and I don't even know of you're lying to me about that. And for dinner you come home to eat an apple. You need to eat more Marcey," he said, his voice turning concerned. His statement did worry me a little. He needs to eat more than that.
Marcel sighed, slightly angered. "I know I don't eat much. I know how much I need to eat because I'm a doctor but I don't get hungry and you know that," he mumbled. Edward just nodded and dropped the topic.
"Okay," Niall clapped awkwardly, coming behind Edward on the couch and cuddling him from behind. Edward smiled and leaned back. He looked up at Niall as he looked down.
"Pizza?" Niall asked and everyone nodded except Marcel who just sat there and didn't move.
"What does everyone want?" Niall said looking around.
"Meat lovers," Louis, Zayn, Liam and I called in unison. But when I spoke I saw Edward's head shoot to Marcel and Marcel froze.
"Okay then, three meat lovers. Anything else?" Niall said looking down at Edward again. Edward shrugged him off and carefully placed a hand on Marcel's knee.
"I'm-I'm sorry guys but I need to go," Marcel said suddenly, shooting up and speed walking towards the door.
"Do you want me to come?" Edward called, his voice worried.
"No. You enjoy yourself," Marcel said, opening the door and walking out. Edward let out a long sigh.
"What happened?" Zayn asked after an awkward silence started to descend on us.
"Nothing. I think he may have a panic attack so I'm just going to check on him," he mumbled to himself, standing up and following Marcel out the door.
"Was it something I said?" Niall asked worried. He looked really concerned. He hates hurting people.
"I ummm..... Should I go?" I asked the boys.
"I think you should Harry," Liam said. "Even if this is a private matter, these are moments you need. They're bonding and you haven't done much of that with them," he finished so I stood up. I walked out the door and saw Edward standing outside his door talking to it.
"Crap Marcel," he said. "I forgot my keys. Please open up," he begged.
"I'm fine," an exhausted voice whispered back.
"Marcey, let me in," he demanded. I heard the door unlock and Edward pushed it open.
"Edward," I said, running towards him. He looked at me and sighed.
"What?" he groaned. I was shocked.
"Can-can I come in?" I asked sheepishly. He frowned but shrugged. He pushed the door forward and walked in, me following.
"Are you alright?" Edward said, looking at Marcel who was curled up on the couch, biting his thumb nervously. Marcel nodded.
"Are you alright?" I asked stepping forward. I got the same answer Edward did, he just nodded. "Can I please talk to him alone?" I whispered into Edward's ear.
"I-I don't know," he whispered back. I gave him a pleading look and he sighed.
"Okay," he mumbled back. "Marcey, don't freak out. I'll go talk to the others and we can get something else. Don't panic please. I don't know where your puffy thing is," he said and Marcel chuckled.
"It's right here," he smiled, patting his pocket. Edward smiled too. He nodded towards Marcel and then turned around and walked out the door. I sighed. They're so close and it's sad that I know I'll never be that close to either of them. I at least hope I can be closer than what I am.
"Not to be rude but," Marcel whispered from the couch, making me snap my head from the door where I watched Edward walk out, to him. "Is there a reason you're here?" he asked. I walked over and sat next to him.
"I was worried about you Marcel," I said smiling at him weakly.
"You don't have to be," he blushed, looking down at his lap.
"I know but you don't know how much I love you. I bet you think that I want to be your friend but you'd be wrong. I want to be your best friend. I know you only met me yesterday so you won't feel as strongly as I feel but I've known about you my entire life. I had dreams about you when I was younger and you have no idea how much I've wanted to meet you. If you run off like you did Marcel, you have no idea how much that worries me, especially after our talk in the hall a few hours ago. I was and still am worried sick," I rambled on.
"It's okay Harry," he interrupted.
"Okay, can you tell me why you walked out on us then?" I said, rubbing his knee.
"I was just overwhelmed."
"About what?" I asked.
"I'm a really strict umm..." He mumbled. I nodded to encourage him to continue.
"I'm a strict vegetarian. I didn't want to ruin your dinner but I refuse to be in the room if you guys are having any sort of meat on the pizza," he said looking up.
"Oh," I whispered to myself. "You know," I said louder. "You could've just told us. We would have just had something else like.." I thought. "Sushi...wait no," I said and he chuckled.
"Fish is meat," Marcel smiled.
"What do you eat then? You won't have pizza, spaghetti, sushi. What do you normally have?" I said curiously.
"Edward told you what I normally have."
"Yeah I know but something decent. What did you have for dinner last night?" I asked.
"I had a garden salad," he relied.
"Girly," I chuckled and to my delight he laughed too.
"I know but it's hard being vegetarian. Nearly everything has meat," he sighed.
"Why didn't you just tell us?" I said tilting my head so I could see his eyes.
"I don't know. Overtime I guess I've learnt to just keep everything secret," he mumbled.
"You know you can talk to me though. And Edward and the others. You no longer have to keep everything bottled up," I whispered and he nodded slowly.
"Well okay, moving on," I said. "Let's skip dinner and cook popcorn and eat ice cream while watching movies," I suggested standing up. He nodded.
"I'd like that," he smiled getting up too. We walked towards the door but I stopped just before I opened it.
"Can you tell me why you were burying the knives earlier?" I whispered. As soon as the words left my lips, Marcel froze.
"You don't need to know," he said back.
"Yeah, but I want to. Remember what you just said. You've learnt to keep things secret. I'm your big brother. You don't have to hide things from me," I said, hoping to persuade him.
"I...." he hesitated. "IusedtocutbecauseIcoukn'thandleit," he whispered quickly, all in one breath.
"Marcey, I didn't get that. Please say it slowly," I said.
"Please don't judge me," he begged, tears rolling down his cheeks. I smiled sadly at him and leaned forward, engulfing him in a hug.
"I will never judge you," I whispered in his ear. He wrapped his arms around me as tears started to fall heavily. I walked him back over to the couch and he sat on my lap. "Unless you sleep with my girlfriend," I whispered and heard him chuckle.
"Wouldn't dream of it," he sobbed.
"What's going on Marcey?" I said, patting his back.
"Do you remember when I said that I get bullied?" he spoke quietly. I nodded.
"Well, I don't just get bullied verbally like most people. I get bullied verbally and....physically," he hesitantly whispered, his voice extremely quiet. I was shocked and overwhelmed. I nodded my head and urged him to continue.
"Sometimes I can't....cope," he slowly said, thinking of the right words.
"What does that mean?" I whispered, rubbing his back as he sobbed into the crook of my neck.
"I cut," he cried. He sniffled into my neck and I felt warm tears drip onto my skin.
To say I was worried and shocked was an understatement. My poor, poor brother. It's my fault. I should have made an effect to find him sooner and maybe it wouldn't have gotten that bad.
"Shhhhh, calm down Marcey," I cooed into his ear, patting his back softly. "Can you show me?" I asked nervously. He looked at me with sad eyes.
"Why?" he mumbled.
"Because I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn't there," I whispered. He nodded slowly and a tear rolled down his cheek and onto my skin. He leant off me and reached for his sleeve. He hesitantly looked at me before sliding it up. He slid it up to his elbow and everywhere from there to his wrist was covered in hundreds of different sized scars. Too many to count. They were scattered randomly. The thought of my baby brother bringing a knife or razor to his skin sickens me. I feel so.....sad.
"When-when was the last time you, you know?" I whispered.
"Two maybe three years ago but that's not the problem," he said leaning off me. His face was all red and tears were still spilling rapidly. I reached up and wiped away a tear, knocking his glasses a bit.
"What's the problem? " I comforted.
"The problem is that I haven't really stopped. I haven't actually down anything but there have been sometimes I was very close to doing it. I can't keep a knife in the house because it's too tempting and I baby proof every sharp corner. Sometimes I just can't," he cried and I engulfed him in a hug again.
"It's alright Marcey. You know it's not safe and you acknowledge that it's a problem you can get help now. I will always support you and so will Edward. When and if you decided to tell the boys, they'll support you too," I whispered and he nodded.
"I'm fine hiding. I've managed so far." I nodded when he spoke.
"Well," I said, letting go of him and looking him in the eyes. "If you think you can manage I'll let you be, but promise me this," I reached up and grabbed his chin, tilting it so he would look at me. "Promise me, that if you ever cut or, you almost do it, you'll get help," I whispered. He sniffled but nodded.
"Let's forget the boys tonight," I said suddenly cheerful.
He looked down at me confused.
"We can get you all cleaned up and the two of us can go out instead of watching a movie," I smiled and he slowly nodded.
"Where are we going to go?" he asked, wiping away his tears.
"Anywhere. We're in DC. Is there anything exiting you've wanted to do in DC. No museums," I said the last part strictly but he chuckled.
"But there's so many famous museums here," he joked.
"Somewhere else," I said. He looked away in thought.
"I have no idea. You choose. I'll have fun. Something new will be fun," he smiled at me.
"Okay then. Why don't we go to a fancy pants restaurant so you can have your girly salad at an unbelievably high price again, OOWWW!" I yelled. "There's a football match tonight at 9. We were going to watch it on TV but I can score us VIP tickets pretty easily and the game should finish at about 11 so we can go to a bar afterwards," I smiled at him but he crossed his arms and frowned at me strictly.
"Harry, we are underage," he spoke strictly.
"Okay then," I shrugged. "We can go go-carting if you want. I haven't done that in ages."
"That does sound fun but it'll be late," he said worriedly.
I shrugged. "Who cares," I said simply and I saw a smile creep onto Marcel's face. He nodded quickly, his big goofy smile amazing to look at.
"That's boy," I said, patting his back. "Go get yourself cleaned up and I'll tell the others that were going to watch a movie. They'll never know."
He stood up and reached his arm out to help me up.
"Okay Marcey. Clean yourself up. I'll be back real soon," I spoke and he nodded. I headed towards the door, my head slightly throbbing, still getting used to the information it had just heard.
I walked out and closed the door quietly. I walked over to my door and opened it.
"Is he okay?!" Liam yelled at me as soon as I entered, the other boys looking intently at me for the answer.
"Yeah, he's fine but we're going to watch a movie together tonight instead. He's a vegetarian and doesn't want to be in here while you guys eat pizza so I said I'd spend time with him. He told me to tell you guys not to worry, he's fine," I answered. They all nodded and turned to continue what they were doing before, except Edward. His arms were crossed and he stared at me strictly. I tried to turn away from his harsh glare but he started to walk forwards and soon he was right in front of me.
"You're not watching a movie," he whispered.
"What? Yeah, we are," I protested but he shook his head.
"You're a terrible liar Harry," he smiled slightly at me. "I don't care where you're but I have rules." What? He has rules about Marcel.
"What are they?" I whispered.
"Number one, don't yell at him. I know I break that rule a lot but I try not to. He gets too emotional."
I nodded my head and waited for him to continue.
"Second rule, don't do anything he's uncomfortable with and Harry," he eyed me. "That means going to a bar. If you were taking me out, I'd love to go but I don't want you to pressure him into going," he said sternly. "And the third rule, do not leave him alone." he said this part extra strictly. I gulped, slightly scared with his protectiveness, but nodded.
"Go have fun Harry," he said cheerfully, unfolding his arms, smiling and patting my shoulder.
"Thanks Edward. I won't hurt our little brother," I assured. I waved to the others and they waved back before I walked out into the hall. Marcel was already standing there in his nerdy but adorable clothes, with a jacket draped over his arm and a Fedora in his hand.
"Hey," he said when he saw me. I smiled and walked over. His face was a bit puffy still but it wasn't red at all. I stared at his face.
"Foundation," he mumbled extremely softly. I nodded and looked at the stuff he was holding. "For you," he said, reaching out and passing me the clothes.
"Thanks," I said and put them on.
"Yeah, I didn't think you'd remember a small disguise. You still need to be recognised but not too much," he said as I put the coat on.
"Who's coat?" I asked, it was about half a size too small for me but I wasn't going to say anything.
"It's mine and you don't have to button it up if you don't want to," he smiled at me, watching me struggl. I blushed from embarrassment and put on the hat.
"Who's that?" I asked. I really liked it. It looks just like the ones I usually wear.
"Oh, that's mine. I sometimes wear it to formal occasions. I would have worn it last night with a different outfit but you wanted me to wear this," he showed off his outfit by waving his hands in front of him. He was dressed almost identical to last nights but a few colours had changed.
"Okay. Let's go. I'll ring the stadium and get a reservation in the car," I smiled as we walked toward the elevator.
When we got out we were met my loud screams. I didn't even know people were out here. We usually hear them chanting or singing from our hotel room but I couldn't hear anything so it shocked me when heaps of girls were outside.
"Good thing you wore the hat Harry, you had a horrible case of bed head," Marcel whispered as he slowed his walking pace and hid behind me.
"Yeah. Speed up Marcey," I said, stepping back and grabbing his hand in mine. He tried to pull away but I held on tight.
"Harry," he scolded. "We can't hold hands in public. I've seen what your fans can do. I'll get so much hate," he whispered.
"What could they hate?"
"They don't know who I am and they could think the worst. They'll hate me because for 24 hours they'll think I turned their idol gay," he whispered but I only pulled him closer.
"No one knows who you are and if they do there's no way for them to contact you. Let them think what they want for today. Tonight's about us and not my reputation," I smiled up at him.
He smiled at me and then squeezed my hand. "You sounded like we were dating," he laughed and I chuckled along with him.
"I know, I meant to," I nodded, approaching the door. I opened it and security immediately did its thing.
"Wait here if you want, I won't take long," I whispered, close to his ear. He nodded and let go.
"Who's that?!" many people screamed as I walked over to the sides and sighed various slips of paper.
"Is he your boyfriend?!" More people bellowed. I smiled and shook my head every time someone yelled something about him.
"Hi," I said to a girl before I bent down next to her and she snapped the selfie.
I walked away, still waving and signing things on both sides. "Shit," I whispered to myself. I turned to Marcel. "Hurry," I practically had to yell over the noise. I'd just seen the E News van pull up and I was in no mood to speak to them. I'll be forced into so many interviews in the coming weeks I want to enjoy my spare time.
He walked over to me and come close. I walked up and whispered in his ear. "E News just arrived. Whatever you do, do not speak to them or even look at them. Got it?" I said and he nodded. I grabbed his hand and started to walk forwards, dragging him behind me. Just as we reached the awaiting car and I thought we had missed them, a short lady stepped out of the crowd and blocked the car door.
"I am Devesa King and you are watching E News with Harry Styles and a mystery boy. Harry," she said, pushing the microphone in my face. The camera turned to me and I felt Marcel's grip tighten and him step really close to my back, cowering behind me.
"Who is the mystery boy behind you?" she asked and pushed the microphone at me more. Well, she's rude. One of the rudest people I've met.
"Ummm...." I thought. "I'm sorry but if you want to talk you'll need to book an interview with Paul or Simon. Excuse me," I said pushing past her but suddenly Marcel's hand was no longer in mine. He was in a circle of people, lights and cameras. I saw him and was about to push through when I saw what he was doing. He was hyperventilating.
"Who are you and how'd you meet Harry?" that Devesa girl said, ignoring his panicked state.
"Out of my way!" I bellowed and everything went silent. The people in my road created a path for me and I walked up to my hyperventilating little brother.
"Are you okay?" I whispered in his ear once I'd reached him. He stood there gripping his hair and panting. He didn't acknowledge my presence other than a slight shake to his head. He shook his head no. He's not okay. That might've panicked me a bit. I bent over and to everyone's surprise, picked him up fireman style. Many news teams were here by now but I ignored them and jumped in the car, slamming the door shut.
As the car drove away I saw the fans yelling at Devesa and yelling stuff like "don't pressure him" and "I can't believe you pulled that boy right out from his grip."
After all that and them now thinking I'm gay, they are still supporting me. I love my fans.
"Are you alright?" I hugged Marcel who was rocking in his seat, taking deep breaths.
"Yeah just....too many," he whispered with a croaky voice.
"Too many people? How are you going to go at the football game then?" I asked.
"I don't know. If it's normal I'll be fine because they won't be crowding us in particular but if what just happened spreads they'll storm us," he mumbled.
"Don't worry baby," I cooed, patting his back. "I'll book a private box. You like that? We'll only have celebrities around us and they will be cool," I whispered and he nodded in my arms.
"Sooo...." I said as he sat up, taking a deep breath. "You're claustrophobic?" I asked and he nodded.
"Don't worry. You'll get used to it after a while. Louis used to be claustrophobic, obviously not as bad as you, but he was. He got over it pretty quickly," I assured. He nodded, looking nearly calm again. I pulled out my phone and rang the stadium. I booked a reservation for two in the celebrity’s box. At first they didn't think it was me but I quickly convinced them.
"So where are we going tonight," Marcel asked politely when I hang up and put my phone in my pocket.
"I wanted to go somewhere near the stadium and the closest place is a nice Spanish/Mexican restaurant down the road from it," I answered. I looked at him and I don't know if he was happy or not. "What's wrong?" I asked.
"Those countries eat a lot of meat but I should be fine," he said back.
We spent the 20 minute car ride talking nonsense.
"Okay boys, I'll be here when you're done," the driver smiled at us as he pulled over and parked next to the cozy looking restaurant.
We walked in unnoticed by the people on the street and into a small but modern waiting area. We walked up to the podium where a man in a tux was standing patiently.
"Bienvenidos caballeros. ¿tiene usted un resivation?" He asked when we stood up. I looked at him confused and he sighed.
"Harry, do we have a reservation?" Marcel whispered and I nodded. I did that on the phone in the car too.
"What name?" he asked.
"Styles, duh," I said sarcastically. He turned to the man.
"Sì, Styles," he spoke confidently. The waiter starred at him impressed.
"¿Hablas a Español?" The waiter said and I just stood there confused. Marcel smiled at the man and nodded his head.
"Sí. desde que era un niño," he said and the waiter nodded.
"Impresionante. Bueno chicos, aquí," the waiter smiled and started to walk away.
"What's happening?" I whispered to Marcel. "I'm so confused."
"He's showing us to our table," Marcel said following the man. We walked over and sat at a table the man had stopped at.
"Voy a ser volver a llegar a sus órdenes," the waiter said and passed us some menus, that were thankfully in English, and walked away.
"What were you two saying," I whisper shouted because I was so confused. They could have been talking about me.
"When we came in he said 'Welcome gentlemen. Do you have a reservation?' and I said 'Yes, Styles.' He then said 'You speak Spanish?' and I said 'Yes, since I was a child.' When he started to walk away he said 'Impressive. Okay boys, right this way,' and just now he said 'I'll be back to get your orders soon.' Didn't you understand that?" he said, reading the menu.
"No," I rolled my eyes. I can't believe I booked a Spanish restaurant that only has Spanish speaking staff. Well, at least one staff member speaks English, the person on the phone.
I picked up my menu and read it once over and had chosen to get a garden salad with chicken. I wanted to be good for Marcel but plain salad is a bit tasteless to me so I added the chicken. I put the menu down and watched Marcel. He was reading over it, his eyes moving slowly. He mumbled the words as he read them. I noticed his eyes were moving left and right but not up and down. It looked like he was reading the same line over and over again.
I watched Marcel as the waiter came over to us.
"¿Los niños listo para pedir?" The man said politely.
"Are you boys ready to order?" Marcel said to me as I nodded. I know what he's doing. He's going to translate. Why didn't I think of asking him that?
The man looked at him confused and Marcel mumbled "Traducir."
"I said translating," Marcel smiled at me. "Are you ready to order?" Marcel asked me and I told him I wanted salad and a coke. He translated and said "Dos cocas y dos ensaladas, uno con pollo y un plano."
The waiter smiled and wrote them down before he walked away.
"I said two cokes and two salads, one with chicken and one plain," he smiled at my confused face. "You looked so worried. We haven't spoken about you," he said. "Yet," he added in a whisper and I kicked him under the table. All he did was laugh in pain and rub his leg.
"To think, you've been to Spain about three times and you can't even say a word."
"I can so!" I protested.
"Do it," he said cheekily.
"Sì. See I can say something," I said pocking my tongue out.
"And that means?" he said cockily.
"I don't know. I heard you say it."
"It means yes," he said in a matter of fact voice.
"You know what; I can speak a whole sentence. Ready? Escogí un plano de excremento de elefante," I said loudly, crossing my arms proudly.
Marcel started to laugh and the ladies behind me stared at us.
"Lo siento. No se habla español," he laughed and the old ladies tried to hold in their giggles.
"What did you say?! What did I say?!" I yelled worried.
"I said, 'I'm sorry. He can't speak Spanish.' Never say that again Harry," he laughed at me.
"What did I say?!" I said worried. I hope it's not too bad.
"You said 'I picked a plane of elephant dung,'" he laughed at my horrified expression. "Never ever try to speak Spanish again," he said as I blushed and sunk into my chair. The ladies were still looking at me and whispering to themselves.
"Tell the ladies there's no need to whisper. I can't understand them anyway and use the exact words, 'he told me to tell you that there's no need to whisper because I can't understand it anyway.'"
"Dijo que le diga que no hay necesidad que susurrar porque de todos modos no lo entiende," he said to the ladies and they laughed once more before they started to talk about something else. I only know that because the stopped looking at me and giggling.
"Looks like you're quiet a charmer," I said to Marcel.
"Yeah. They just complimented me on my clothes and the fat one said that when she met her first husband he was wearing pretty much exactly what I'm wearing. I think I need to change my look," Marcel whispered the last part. Now it was my turn to laugh at him.
After about ten minutes our meals had arrived. He spent about 20 minutes eating while I ordered a dessert which took awhile to eat.
As I put a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth, I watched him read the menu again. His eyes moved very slowly across the paper which I found weird. Slowly his eyes drifted up and met mine. I turned away awkwardly.
"Do you like what you see?" He smiled at me.
"I'm in love with it," I relied sassily.
"Eww," he laughed. "Why are you watching me?" he asked after a few seconds.
"I'm just... You're such a slow reader," I said. He reacted differently them I expected. His eyes became glossy and he suddenly seemed miserable. "Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry," I said as soon as I noticed. He shook his head and took in a breath.
"No, it's fine. Just don't bring up my reading again," he said quietly, standing up.
"Are we leaving?" I said and he nodded. I looked down at my half eaten sundae. As I was pulled away I scooped all of it in my mouth. I couldn't close it properly so I covered my mouth with my hands so the paparazzi wouldn't see it. Marcel nodded towards the waiter as he walked out. I climbed into the car after him.
"Marcel," I tried to say but it came out as a muffled slur.
"Gross Harry," he sighed, pulling out a napkin from one of his pockets. I unwillingly accepted it and spat out my delicious ice cream.
"Are you alright?" I asked. "You seem to be to upset tonight," I whispered to him as the driver started to drive towards the stadium.
"Yeah it's just that....my life's been hard and I have a few problems that make it harder. I'm sorry I'm doing this to you," he whispered looking at me.
"I love you Marcey and I don't care if you breakdown every second of every day. If you have a problem or want to talk you can always call me. You have my number," I winked at him and nudged him with my elbow. He smiled at me while he rubbed his arm.
"I'm such a wimp," he sighed, leaning back in his chair.
"Well, not every wimp will have thousands of girls fainting when they see them. By tomorrow night, you'll be famous."
"No I won't Harry," he said and I looked at him confused. "Yes, people will know my name but I won't be famous. Gemma's not famous and she's still known as your sister. I'll be known as Harry Styles' nerdy brother and Edward will be known as Harry Styles' bad boy brother. I think you're over thinking this," he said, his face in his hands.
"What if the three of us do a special single? Only one because people will think I'm going solo or leaving the band, but if we do one song, everyone will want you. I've been told you can sing. Can you?" I asked. He looked at me, his face slightly red from embarrassment.
"A little," he said.
"Can Edward sing?"
"Yeah," Marcel sat up and smiled. "He's amazing. He's just like you but a bit deeper. He says that I'm just like you but a bit higher but I don't see it," he smiled and I smiled too. If they can both sing, my idea could actually work.