The Lift (A One Direction Fanfiction)

Chapter Eleven

Turns out I have some strange and nosy investigator inside of me. I would equate it to Sherlock Holmes, but the difference between our intellects is quite vast.

Screw you, Robert Downey Jr.

Immediately after hearing Harry's semi-hard-to-understand confession of how he likes Niall, I go into Nancy Drew mode and bombard Harry with questions.

"Have you ever liked a boy before?" I ask over the phone, adjusting my position on my bed so I'm more alert. I must have my wits about myself.

Harry responds quietly. "No, but that's really-"

"What is it you like about Niall?" I interrupt.

"A lot of things, Erin. Are you-"

"What is your favorite color?"

"ERIN!" he shouts. "I could use some help here."

"Sorry," I giggle, though this is a completely inappropriate time to be doing so, seeing as I'm basically mocking Harry's obvious confusion and stress. Hey, I don't deal with stress well. It's one of my less endearing qualities. "I just don't know anything about you is all."

"Yeah you do," Harry retorts. "Aren't you, like, a really big fan of ours? Don't you know all that trivia about us?"

If Niall had to have an opposite in the band, it would definitely be Harry. Niall got all huffy about me thinking I know his whole life through the Internet while Harry expects me to help him solve a personal problem with only self-gathered information.

"I'd rather hear it from you," I say. "I don't know what's true and what isn't."

Harry sighs. "Fine, what do you want to know?”

I spend the next hour or so asking Harry the most random and trivial questions, ones that aren’t really necessary. He seems a bit annoyed by my inquisitiveness but I just don’t feel comfortable delving into the deeper parts of his mind to help him with his boy predicament. I want to be able to say that I know him, that I understand what’s going on in his mind, and the way I do that is through incessant questioning.

My questions range from favorite colors and movies to what he wants to be when he’s older and when was the first time he ate a corndog, et cetera. Total overkill I know but I basically create a crash course for myself in Stylish, the study of Harry Styles.

“Okay, last question,” I say after the hour has passed. I’ve learned quite a lot but I do need to know one more thing before he can start explaining his confession. “It’s going a bit more personal than the last ones have. Are you okay with that?”

“Sure,” Harry grumbles, obviously irritated by my pestering interrogation. Hey, he was rude as fuck to me. I think I can justify being a bit annoying back to him.

“Alright,” I begin. “Who is your best friend?”

“My… best friend?” Harry chokes up. “I… I’m not sure.”

“It’s not Louis?” I guessed a while ago that they had a falling out, but I’m not sure where their relationship stands at the moment. When One Direction was first formed, the two were inseparable. Now they barely talk to each other in interviews, they never playfully touch each other, and they don’t give off the romantic vibe. I wonder where it’s gone.

“It used to be,” Harry sniffs. “You know what I’m talking about. We were really close.”

“What happened?” I ask.

“Larry Stylinson happened,” Harry stammers. “It was fine at first when we were on ‘X Factor’. Everyone thought it the same as all the other pairings. But it got to be too much. Louis and I decided it would be best to be more casual mates on camera, less touchy and stuff like that. Basically, what we tried to stop in public ended up stopping in private. We eventually stopped talking altogether, except a bit for work reasons.”