"Hey Steven? Where are you? I thought we were supposed to be heading back home." I say, waving goodbye to Veronica as she climbs into what I assume is her Mum's car.
"Didn't I text you?"
"No."
"Oh." I face palm. What an odd duo we make, the fanboy and the idiot. "Well, I talked to Darryll, and considering the fact that's it's Friday and there's absolutely no way I'm driving home at this hour, he said it would be okay if the two of us crash at his place tonight."
"You're hammered right now, aren't you?"
"How can you guess? I've only fallen down like 4 times."
I scoff, of course Steven would be drunk, he's Irish, it's all he knows, "Well, can you at least give me an address then? I don't feel like scouring the entire city of Manchester to find you."
"Uh, 1234, 5 Street."
"I meant the address of Darryll's place, dumbass." A woman walking past glares at me and I feel strongly like I should flip her off. I'm 18; I should be able to swear whenever the hell I want! Besides, it's not my fault my friend uses every possible opportunity to get drunk.
"Right. Darryll! Where do you live?"
Faintly, I can hear someone who can only be this mysterious Darryll say something about a West dorm, then Steven's voice is back, sounding extremely loud to my still-damaged ears. "We're at the University of Manchester, in the West dorm. Just call a lorry or something! See you then mate!"
I make a sound of protest, trying to get a word in, but am rewarded yet again by the sound of the dial tone. Dammit Steven.
Unsure of my next move, I look around to see all the night shoppers still bustling about. One of the perks of living in a small town is that you aren't subjected to the constant stream of 24/7 noise of the cities. At the same time, living in Cheshire means I can count on one hand how many times I've been to Manchester, and I'm clueless when it comes to city life. So, hailing a lorry for the first time, this should be interesting.
I decide to go for the safe approach, and stick my hand out like I've seen people in the movies do it. I stand there long enough for my arm to start feeling like a deadweight, and people to stare at me like I'm a nutter. Finally, after god knows how long, I'm rewarded by the sight of a black lorry pulling up to the curb. I yank open the door and plop down into the plush leather seat, glad to finally be out of the frigid air. I notice the lorry driver looking at me expectantly, and with a start I realise he's waiting for me to specify the location.
"Oh erm, University of Manchester, West dorm please." I say, rubbing the back of my neck. A habit I picked up from my Mum whenever she was in an awkward situation.
Without a word, the lorry lurches forward, and I decide to pass the time by attempting to beat my high score on Temple Run. I play for about 30 seconds, before realising that I simply can't concentrate, and lock my phone.
Settling back into the seat, I close my eyes and let the past few hours’ events sweep over me. I can't believe it. I went to see my idols sing live and act like complete idiots on stage, an experience I wouldn't trade for any sum of money, and to top it all off, I actually got to meet and talk to them. I go over the interaction between Louis and I. His hands were really soft, or maybe mine are just really in need of a moisturiser and sweet Jesus his eyes. Wow that is definitely a sight I would pay to see over and over again. They were just so...blue, like I can't even explain the shade of blue his eyes are. From one angle they would be baby blue, and then you would shift like a centimetre and it would change into a sky blue. God I really want to see those eyes again.
"We're here." The driver says gruffly, jolting me out of my revere, "That'll be £20.35."
I fumble around in my coat pockets for my wallet, a little embarrassed at that fact that I zoned out because of Louis Tomlinson's freaking eyes.
"Here you go." I say, handing him the money and hopping out of the car. The lorry speeds off to pick up his next customer and I'm left standing alone in front of a giant brick building. A little ways off in the distance, someone hurries from one building to another, but other than that, I'm alone out here.
I begin walking towards the building, and have my hand on the door handle when I realise Steven didn't even bother to specify where exactly he was in the building.
"Fuck." I curse, unlocking my phone and dialling Steven's number, looking around the vast campus as I wait for him to pick up.
There's a click and I jump straight in, "Yeah, um, where exactly are you?"
"I know where I am, the question is where are you?" Steven counters, sounding even more drunk than he was when I last called him.
"I'm at the entran..." I stop, why am I answering this? "Just come get me."
"Sure thing Styles, be there in a jiffy!"
Turns out, a jiffy in Steven's books means an entirely different thing than it does in mine, and I'm waiting at least 15 minutes before he comes literally stumbling into me.
"'Arry my man! Wha brings you here?" He slurs, his fingers digging into my arm, "I thought you was goin' to that concert!"
I awkwardly brush my drunk friend off my shoulder. Due to his impaired balance skills, as soon as he no longer has me as an anchor, Steven falls straight on his ass, laughing as if it's the funniest thing in the world. "How much have you had to drink?" I ask critically, grabbing his hand in order to help him up.
6 failed attempts later, I'm finally able to get Steven back onto his feet, and he leans hid entire weight on me, I stumble a bit, but regain my balance. "Why would ya tink I had anything ta drink?"
"You're Irish and can't even stand up properly. It's not hard to put two and two together."
"Why do ya havta talk so smarticleish, speak English man!" Steven moves to go left, but his feet betray him and he ends up only stumbling into my side more.
"My English is perfectly fine. Yours on the other hand..."
"Are you the 'Harry' that Steven went to go get?" A voice says from behind me, interrupting my sentence. I whirl around, startled that I didn't hear him before, but I suspect that Steven's drunken laughter, which has not decreased in the slightest, was to blame for that.
"Yeah I'm Harry. Who the hell are you?" I retort, placing my hands on my hips and surveying this guy up and down. Black crew cut hair slicked back with way to much product, slightly chubby face, about 6 foot, wearing jeans and a hoodie. Nothing special.
"I'm Darryll, a friend of Steven's." He says quirking an eyebrow at my obvious expression of distaste.
"Oh okay. This makes more sense now." I nod slowly, "I suppose if were doing introductions I should introduce myself. Hi, I'm Harry, Steven's gay partner in crime." I stick out a hand for Darryll to shake and he takes it almost hesitantly, as if he's afraid it might suddenly grow a mind of its own and bite him, "So...this may seem a bit odd but can we crash at your place tonight? Steven's my ride and I don't feel like dying."
As if to prove my point Steven's drunken giggles start up once again, "We'll leave in the morning once he sobers up."
"Why kid? Can't you drive?" Darryll says, and I see a faint glint of malice appear in his eyes. Okay, so the greaser doesn't like me, that's nothing I wasn't prepared for.
"Not a stick shift. Now help me get dumbass inside." I gesture to Steven's form.
Darryll stares at me for second and I'm pretty sure he's considering just leaving Steven and I to fend for ourselves before he nods his head. "Alright, but only because Steven's my friend."
"No, I thought that we were best buds." I mumble sarcastically under my breath before grabbing Steven's arms in an attempt to hoist him up. "Fucking. Fatass." I grunt, failing miserably.
I hear Darryll say something that sounds suspiciously like pansy before pushing me out of the way and slinging Steven over his shoulder, fireman style, "My room's this way." He says gruffly, bumping into me again as he walks into the building. I stand there on the grass for a few moments before shaking my head and following the two. Once we're inside the building, I'm instantly assaulted by a barrage of noise. It shouldn't be surprising considering it's Friday, but judging by the silence outside, you never would've have guessed.
We push our way past the thrall of half-drunk Uni students who crowd the stairs, which remind me of a club atmosphere, random pinches on the ass and all. Fun.
"In here." Darryll says as we reach the third floor, which is slightly less crowded, and I follow him into a reasonably sized dorm room.
"John's out for the night so you can have his bed." Darryll says, unceremoniously dumping Steven, who has now passed out, onto the floor, "And Steve can sleep there."
"Okay. Thanks." I say, feeling extremely awkward.
"I'm going back down to party. Don't touch my stuff."
With that Darryll's back out the door and I'm left alone with a hammered best friend and food that I can't eat under threat of getting pounded by a scary greaser.
With nothing else to do and no intention to venture back out into the hall, I flop down on John's bed and take out my phone. Well, looks like I'll be spending another night on Tumblr, retweeting pictures of One Direction all night.
*************
"Harry. Harry wake up."
"No Mum, it's Saturday."
"First off, I'm not your Mum, and secondly, GET THE HELL UP!"
At his words I rocket out of bed, the momentum making my hair bounce around like crazy, "What the hell!" I say, blinking rapidly in order to get my eyes adjusted to the sudden barrage of bright light that has assaulted them. Once they do, I'm met by the sight of Steven staring at me with bloodshot eyes about an inch away from my face, "What the hell!" I yell for the second time today, jumping back so I can feel the cold brick wall
Steven closes his eyes and rubs his temples before sitting down on Darryll's bed, "Can you not be so loud?"
"Well good morning to you sunshine. How was your sleep?" I tease, overcoming my tiresless rather quickly at the thought of mocking my friend.
"Shut up."
I stretch and move into a more comfortable position on the bed, jumping a little as I come into contact with the wall again. Maybe I shouldn't have worn just my pants to bed....nah. "So, if you hate the sound of my voice so much, why are you waking me up?"
"I need someone to go grab like Advil or something cause Darryll doesn't have any."
"Speaking of the devil, where is he?" I ask, looking around the room.
"I dunno, he just texted me saying that he wouldn't be back for a couple hours."
There's a silence in the room before the two of us make eye contact, "Laid." We say simultaneously before busting into laughter.
"Haha that's...ow." Steven groans, flopping down on the bed and putting a pillow over his face, "Ew gross, there's like grease all over this or something."
"I'm not surprised."
Steven chucks the pillow at me which I'm able to catch with relative ease considering his hungover throwing skills. "Just go get it."
"Fine then Mr. Grumpy Pants."
I climb out of bed and start pulling my clothes from the day before, making sure to make extra noise just to antagonize Steven. Once I'm fully dressed, I run a hand through my unruly hair and grab my phone, "Um Steven?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't have any money."
"Yes you do, I thought you said you were going to bring some to buy merch?"
Instantly my mind flashes back to yesterday and I scramble around in my pockets, pulling out a few crumpled notes, "Will this be enough?"
"I dunno. Just go get them." He waves a dismissive hand and turns over so that his back is facing me, signalling the end of our conversation. Wow, I can sure pick 'em.
************
45 minutes later and still scarred from the encounter with the slutty cashier who made no attempt to hide her shameless flirting, I return to Darryll’s dorm with 2 shopping bags loaded with random crap.
“I come bearing medication!” I announce, stepping back into the room and throwing the bags towards the lump on the bed.
“What the fuck man?! I was sleeping!” A very disoriented Steven makes his way out of the covers and stares at me with groggy eyes. “I’m hungover! This isn’t going to help.”
“Too bad, I felt like being annoying.” I say, plopping myself back down on John’s bed, “Besides, you owe me for the meds.”
As if noticing them for the first time, Steven sits up and promptly empties the contents of the bag out onto the bed. He holds them up less than an inch away from his nose, scrutinizing it.
“Uh. Is there something wrong with the packaging?” I ask.
“Nope, just making sure it’s the right kind.”
I shake my head as Steven unscrews the top and downs 2 pills without any water or anything. I have a weird friend. I suppose Mum was right in her first assumption of….Mum!
“Steven did I call my Mum last night to tell her I was staying over here?”
Steven looks up from where he’s playing with the lid of the pill bottle and gives me a look of exasperation, “Uh…I was kind of incapacitated for most of the night, you expect me to remember that?”
I mentally facepalm but don’t spend much time dwelling on my own stupidity. Mum is probably pacing around, thinking that I was killed in a car accident or something like that.
I dial Mum’s number and hold it a few inches away from my ear, preparing myself for any amount of torrential ranting and yelling on her part. She picks up after 2 rings and I jump in right away to try and spare myself from extra scolding.
“Hi Mum. It’s Harry. Look, I’m really sorry about not calling last night but I’m fine and so is Steven.” I look up at the lad in question who is still fully concentrated on trying to spin the lid back on in one move, “Well he’s okay by Steven standards. But nevermind, we’ll be coming home soon and…”
“Honey take a breath before you kill yourself.” She responds. The tone of her voice is normal, and I can’t detect any concealed rage or disappointment, so that’s a plus, “I already know about you guys staying in Manchester for the night.”
I’m silent for a few seconds, “What?” How could she have known that? I’m pretty positive I didn’t call to tell her…
“Steven drunk dialled me last night and it was obvious about 2 seconds in he was in no condition to drive home.”
I look at Steven again, “Why the hell do you have my Mum’s number?”
He shrugs, “She gave it to me.”
“Why did you give him your number?” I ask my Mum.
“Because I needed a backup form of contacting you. Although I wish I didn’t, he said some pretty odd things.”
I groan. “What did he say?”
“Well. At first it was just some mumbling, but then he told me that you couldn’t come to the phone because you were busy banging some French guy in a closet.”
“HE WHAT?!”
“He told me that you couldn’t come to the phone bec….”
“No no no don’t say it again!” I glare at Steven who now has his full attention focused on me; I smile thinly at him, “Could you wait for a moment please?” I ask Mum in an icy tone before pressing the hold button.
“Um. Could you explain what’s going on and why you’re staring at me with the ‘I’m going to rape you then kill you brutally and hide your body in my basement’ face?”
I brush off the insult, “Sure thing, but could you explain to be first why you drunk dialled my Mum last night and told her I was banging some French dude?”
Steven’s eyes widen in realization, “She was the one I called? Oh god mate I’m sorry but I was drunk and I didn’t know it was her…”
“HOW MANY PEOPLE NAMED ANNE COX DO YOU HAVE IN YOUR CONTACTS?” I roar before leaping across the space between the 2 beds and tackling Steven onto the ground. “And why would you say something like that?!”
Steven doesn’t try to fight against me, instead keeping his arms on the ground, “Well….that guy in the boyband that you fancy, his name sounds French so I suppose I was voicing your desires to your Mum.” I can feel my face turning a deep shade of red, mostly from the anger, but there’s a little from embarrassment, “Wait, you do want that right?”
“Of course I do! But there’s no need to go blabbing about it to my Mum of all people!” I cover my mouth almost immediately after I say it and quickly go back to sit on one of the beds. Steven raises an eyebrow and starts grinning at me. Oh god, he’s never going to let me live this down.
“So you would like to bang him then.” He shuffles over to where I’m sitting and places his chin in his hands before resting his elbows on the edge of the bed like some schoolgirl who’s pressing for answers. “Top or bottom?"
If a hole could’ve opened up in the Earth beside me I would gladly jump headfirst down it, “Oh my god Steven you can’t ask people questions like that!”
“Well I just so it’s obviously not a problem. Anyways stop trying to change the topic Styles!”
I flip Steven off and put my Mum off hold, “Steven dead now?” She says. I swear, that woman can predict anything.
“Bastard got very close to it.” I give a pointed glare in Steven’s direction to let him know that it’s him I’m referring to.
“Well it’s nice to know that I won’t have to bail you out of jail for murder charges.” I laugh, my anger over Steven’s drunk mistake slowly dissipating, “But anyways, when will you guys be coming home?"
I look at Steven, who has managed to climb up onto the bed next to me and has something that looks like a smirk on his face.
“Dunno. We’ll leave soon, but there’s no set time.” Steven seems to be shifting closer. What is going through that mind of his?
“Alright love, but try to get home earlier okay? I remember you saying something earlier about a Maths test you wanted to study for and I want to hear all about the concert!”
“Yes Mum I’ll make sure to come back early.” I say in an exaggerated voice.
“Okay, love you sweetie.”
My head rapidly turns to look at Steven for a second before I inch away from him and place my hand in front of my mouth, “Yeah yeah, love you to see you soon.” I mumble into the receiver. She laughs.
I go to press the end call button, but before I can Steven puts his plan into action and knocks me over.
“HARRY BOTTOMS!” He shouts before ending the call.
“STEVEN I WILL END YOU!”
**********************
“I’m still mad at you.” I say as we walk out to the car. Steven sticks his tongue out at me in response and playfully shoves me so I go stumbling onto the lawn, “Hey!”
“Learn to stand your ground pansy.” He retorts before skipping the rest of the way to his car. And he calls me the pansy, take a look in the mirror mister.
I dust off my trousers and sprint the rest of the way. I know for a fact that Steven would leave me stranded here without a second thought and I’m not going to give him the opportunity.
“TO CHESHIRE!” He yells as I climb into the passenger side. Well, I see that yelling no longer bothers him.
I settle down into my seat and take out my phone and start playing Temple Run, regardless of the fact that the battery life is dangerously low as we pull out of the parking lot. About 10 seconds in however, I get interrupted by the being known as annoying best friend and my little avatar gets eaten by the death monkeys.
“What do you want?”
“Come on Styles cheer up a little. Where’s that loud, flamboyant fanboy who doesn’t shut up about One Direction? I mean you just saw them in concert, shouldn’t you be busy exploding or something?”
At his words my mind automatically repeats memories of last night and all bad thoughts about Steven go flying out the window, “Of course the concert was amazing. But the meet and greet was better.”
Steven’s mouth drops open, “You’re shitting me.”
I place a hand on my chest, “I shit you not.”
“How the hell did you manage that? From the strange fuzzy things I remember from yesterday, you only had a normal ticket.”
“I know, but I got to know this girl…"
“A GIRL?! Is my gay boy going straight on me?!” Steven exclaims, taking his eyes off the road to gape at me.
“EYES ON THE ROAD!” I shout, grabbing his face and turning it in the right direction. “And FYI, my sexuality has not changed in the slightest. If you would have kept your mouth shut long enough to listen to the rest of the sentence you would have known that she was aware of the fact I’m gay and that she got 2 tickets handed to her by security.”
“Wow Styles you are one lucky guy. I bet any girl would’ve murdered her way through a country in order to get those tickets.”
“It would be easier if they had a Death Note.” I joke, but stop when I see the blank look on Steven’s face. Right, he doesn’t know what Anime is…I’ll have to change that. “Sorry, anime humour.”
“Of course.”
A silence descends upon the both of us for a couple minutes as we weave our way through the city of Manchester. After about 10 minutes though, the growling of my stomach reminds me that neither of us have eaten yet today and it’s almost noon.
“Steven stop the car!”
He looks at me, “We’re in the middle of the road.”
I roll my eyes, “I didn’t mean right here idiot. I’m hungry!” As if on cue my stomach rumbles again.
“Now that you mention it I’m pretty hungry to. How about we stop at Nando’s or something like that?”
I shake my head amidst my looking about for any place that sells food, “It’s too far away, I need food now.” I point to an approaching little shop that caught my eye, “How about we go there?”
Steven takes ones look at the Café and immediately pulls into the parking lot, cutting off a few drivers along the way.
“Fucking cunt!” Someone yells.
“Shut up arsehole!” Steven yells back, flipping the whoever the hell it was off.
“You know, I’m beginning to think it’s not a good idea to take you into public places.” I say, climbing out of the car.
Steven scoffs, “Name one time other than this where I’ve sworn at someone while with you."
I wrack my memory for the numerous occasions. “The time you got drunk at my house and wanted to see how loud you could yell Fuck so you went outside and yelled it until the neighbours called the cops.”
“But that technically wasn’t in public.” He interjects. I keep going. “Or that other time where you threw a donut at some lorry and we had to run for 20 minutes to get away from the driver who was threatening to break our legs…”
Steven punches me in the arm, “Okay okay, that’s enough reminiscing, I thought you said you wanted food so let’s get the damn food!”
Wow, way to change the subject Steven.
I follow my friend into the little café and I’m instantly bombarded with the smell of coffee. It’s a nice little place, quaint but modern in its furnishing. It’s nice.
“Harry go find a table, I’ll order your food.” Steven says the moment I catch up to him in the small line-up, “But leave the money here so I can pay.”
Of course. “Just don’t spend it all.” I say, carefully depositing the money into his awaiting hand. “Thanks mate!”
I just roll my eyes and walk off towards a secluded corner of the restaurant with a view of the busy street outside. I can feel myself relaxing just by watching the movement outside and my mind wanders back into its thoughts.
I met One Direction. Well, 2 of the members, I just got to observe the others from afar but no one needs to know that little detail.
With a start I realize that I really can’t gossip to anyone else about this but my Mum and random girls on the Internet. Ouch, that bites. For the first time in my life I have something interesting I can share with people and I have no one to share it with.
“Here you are. I got you a cappuccino cause I know you like them and…oh shit!”
I’m pulled harshly back to reality by the feeling of something hot landing on my trousers. “Fuck!” I exclaim, hopping out of the booth as fast as I can to get rid of the burning hot…thing that has just landed on me, “What was that for?”
“Sorry, dropped me sandwich.” Steven says apologetically before picking the sandwich up. He scrutinizes it for a second before taking a bite. I pull a disgusted face. “Aw come on. That was on the floor.”
“So?” He says through a mouthful of sandwich.
I open my mouth to say something but realise that it would just be easier to save my breath, “I’m going to the loo. Don’t eat my food.”
“No promises!”
I make my way over to the Boy’s toilet, all the while cursing the stupidity of my friend. I push the door open, revealing a surprisingly spacious room before walking over to the sinks.
“Fucking tosser. Now I have to have wet trousers for the entire ride home.” I curse as I use a paper towel to try and clean the stain, “Someday I’m just going to take that scrawny little neck of his and…”
The flushing of a toilet behind me causes my sentence -and the rest of me- to abruptly come to a halt. Oh great, someone else is in here to, and they just heard me confessing my murder plans. Peachy.
My sluggish brain starts to work again and I furiously scrub at the stain, trying to get rid of it and get out if here as fast as I possibly can. In fact, I actually think I’ll be able to make it when I hear the sound of a stall door opening and I turn around to exit the toilet. Except instead of a clear path to the door, I smack right into whoever else was in here.
“Oh shit I’m sorry ma…” I trail off when I see who it is.
There, standing literally centimetres away from me is none other than Louis Tomlinson himself.
Well, I guess I have something else to talk about.