Boy Band Games: Why Don't We Edition ✓

S2: 7 | Hotel Roomies

Word Count: 2,373 words

Chapter Seven
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I FROWNED, LOOKING at the sleeping arrangements that were printed out on a small pink sheet of paper.

We just arrived at London.

Almost everyone was already upstairs, getting settled in their respective rooms, along with the staff. Only a few of us needed to settle in and it's resting time, as it was already half past 11 in the evening.

After Jordan and I's conversation in the plane, we exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch. Though I already told him that there was a slight chance I wasn't going to talk to him much because of my hectic schedule as proxy for Trina. He was alright with it.

"As long as you update me about your relationship status." He winked.

I rolled my eyes at him, "And why would I do that?"

"So I know if I have a chance with you or not." He joked.

Well I think it was.. you know... a joke.

I'm not sure if it was a joke, but I hope it was.

The last thing I want is to have another Besson pine over me.

One is already enough.

Imagine two.

"Here's your room key." The curly brown haired tour manager of the boys gave me the key card with a small smile.

I nodded, looking at Ibiza, "Thanks."

"I'm really sorry about the sleeping arrangements." She pursed her lips. "I literally have no idea how that happened because I swear we were supposed to be roommates, but it's too late to change it now."

I read over the pink sheet of paper again and looked back at Ibiza who was looking at me worriedly.

"Oh it's fine." I waved it off. "Besides.."

I looked at the boy who had his airpods plugged in his ears, bobbing his head up and down to the beat of the song he was listening to as he sat on the cream colored lounge chair in the lobby.

"He and I are good friends." I gave her an assuring smile.

Ibiza grinned at me, "Great! I'll get you two settled in."

She looked at the boy in the other side of the room.

"Daniel!" She waved, calling him over.

The boy looked up, removing his airpods.

Ibiza waved him over and he stood up, dragging his large red suitcase behind him.

I scanned his outfit.

He was in a dark blue shirt with the words 'take me away' printed in small white lowercase letters that was probably in the font Helvetica. He wore casual jeans that were a snug fit on his legs and a pair of dark blue Nike Air Force 1's.

Oh and before I forget.

He also wore a deep frown on his face.

He neared us, and I wanted to look everywhere but in his direction, which elicited a quirk of an eyebrow from him.

I ignored his reaction and stared at my wonderful pair of black Niké slides.

Ah, my slides.

Who rides on a plane to London wearing a pair of slippers?

Lotte.

Yeah, that's me muffincrumpets.

I'm the baddest biscuit in the container.