★ Niall’s POV ★

I can’t quite remember a day I wanted so badly to end.

There was, of course, that one birthday party that ended with me jammed into the three tier birthday cake, but that’s juvenile—never have I wanted a day to end with such fervor during my teenage years .

At least, not until today.

Kam stuck around to help alright—specifically, to help Zayn.  Her attention seemed to be centered on him and only him, leaving any other requests or questions for Marcy to answer, and she didn’t exactly know the responses to any of our inquiries. Regarding the requests, the most she could do was repeat them into her radio and hope an assistant showed up with whatever we wanted. As it turned out, that helper was Jake, and he loudly refused to enter the room, like it was inhabited by demons. He avoided it like the plague.

And, just like that, my sudden anger for Liam vanished, rapidly hurling its way towards Zayn and his stupid ramp hair. Seriously, what did Kam see in him? Or was his hair so eye-catching that it distracted her from his face?

Fuck, I’m horrible, I internally reprimanded myself, but what else could I do? It’s not like I could stand up and try to win her back—not with my other rivals here. Liam would probably join in and Zayn would fight adamantly, as he always did. Poor Louis and Harry would be subjected to watch, along with Marcy.

We’d kick Kam out of the room for the sake of honor.

“I love your jacket,” Kam giggled, easily settling into the seat beside Zayn. She seemed to melt into his frame, an action he gladly accepted.

Lucky bastard.

★ Liam’s POV ★

This is how it is, then?

I didn’t even have to leave Kam and Zayn alone in the dark for them to start hitting it off. They didn’t even talk—they went right for the flirting, faster than I had gone in the same time. More than likely farther than Niall had gone as well.

Speaking of which, what was he doing?

I turned my head to find the fake blonde. He had to be here somewhere; no one’s gone through the door for the last ten—

Wait. Was that Niall? Sulking in the corner?

I bit on my cheek to hold back the oncoming roar of laughter building up in the back of my throat. The infamous heartbreaker Niall Horan sulking? And in a corner? Man, this was gonna get interesting. So very—

It came to me then, the reason I hadn’t bothered looking around for a while. Kam and Zayn were curled up on the couch, huddled around an iPhone with stupid grins on their faces. In that moment, I came to sympathize with Niall. I think I’d be curled up in the corner too, if I didn’t had too much…pride, was it? I have no idea. But it kept me from making a fool of myself.

Most of the time.

When girls weren’t involved.

This time, however, it didn’t stop the frenzied beating of my slowly breaking heart.

★ Marcy’s POV ★

I had no idea what Kam was doing.

But if I had to guess…my conclusion was that it wasn’t going to end well.

When does messing with bros ever end well?

I shook my head and leaned into the wall, wondering when the hell the staff was going to have everything set up for the boys. They were building up too much anticipation for the fans—and if they weren’t agitated then, they were definitely agitated now. Their shrieking pierced through the walls of the building, a steady hum from where we were at.

Oh my God, what had we gotten ourselves into?

Anxiety began to build up at the base of my stomach, sending shots of adrenaline into my veins bit by bit. My legs started shaking. I had to fully press myself against the wall to keep my breath steady.

In, out, in out.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Without another thought, I swung the door open and ran out.

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.

My heartbeat was too loud in my ears.

I rested my head in my knees, despite the fact that the floor was cold against my thighs. In retrospect, it was a really bad idea wearing shorts today.

Before I could shut my eyes, footsteps began to echo around the corner, which unsettled me even more. What if one of the staff members saw me like this? What if they told Cass I was unfit to work here? What if they rescinded my internship and sent me back to—

“You all right there?” A somewhat unfamiliar voice asked, inching closer when I closed my eyes tightly.

“Fine, fine, everything’s…fine.” I choked on the last word, wrapping my arms firmly around my legs. “I’ll be out in a second, just let me breathe for a sec.”

There was silence for a second. At least until the guy sat down next to me.

“These things are always easier than they seem.” He said softly, “More for you than for us. We are signing billions of magazines, shirts, and…boobs.” He snickered at the word. “Your job is to make sure nothing happens to us, and let’s be honest here, nothing ever does. There’s no need to worry.”

Somehow, some way, he was right.

It was nothing to worry about.

Then why was my chest pounding so fast?

I glanced up to get a good look at this mysterious man, only to have my mouth hang open.

He extended a hand, smiling. “Harry Styles. Nice to meet you.”

I stared, unsure of how to proceed.

“This is the part where you say, ‘I’m Marcy, and I’d love to go out on a date with you.’”

A giggle burst through my lips, staying there until I finally returned the handshake. “I’m Marcy, and that would depend on where we’re doing.”

“Someplace nice.” He pretended to think about it. “Somewhere you won’t freak out as much. An amusement park, maybe?”

“Because rollercoasters aren’t terrifying at all!” I stood up, winking as I lifted him up with me.

“It’s alright. You can hold my hand all you want.” He returned the gesture.

Adding nothing else, we walked back to the lounge.

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