CHAPTER 23
Harry Edward Styles P.O.V
I walked into the room and I fell on the couch. "How was this morning?" I asked Liam, Zayn and Niall sticking my head up.
"Yeah, tell us about it," Louis commented too, pouring himself some juice that he found in the fridge.
"It was fun," Liam said, coming over and knocking my feet off so he could sit down next to me. When he sat down, I put my feet on top of him.
"Yeah. We talked about stuff like football and Britain. Since you told him he was from Holmes Chapel he said he's been dying extra to go to Britain. He's never been there before and always wanted to go but now he knows he's from there, that only makes him want to go more," Zayn shrugged, walking over and sitting on the single couch, a cup of juice Louis had poured him in his hand.
"And I've never ever met someone who could eat more then Niall," Liam laughed, pointing at Zayn. Zayn then started to laugh. Obviously something had happened and I wanted to find out.
"What? What's so funny?" Louis and I said, looking at the three of them.
"Well," Niall said. "When we sat down at the table I instantly started to eat the choc-chip pancakes that we ordered. He laughed at me as I tried to chop it up and I looked at him. He said that I was wasting my time so he leant over the table and picked up my pancakes. I growled," he said and I laughed as well. Of course he growled. No one and I mean no one steals Niall's food.
"So he had my food in his hand and shoved it in my mouth. Time passed and somehow the four of us were having a competition to see who could eat the most pancakes. In the end it was Edward versus me but I was getting full. I stopped because I was going to explode and he said, 'are you done with that?' and them he leaned over and ate my left overs. After about five minutes we were in the elevator coming up and he pat his stomach and said 'I'm hungry. What times lunch?' Can you believe that. Oops," his eyes shoot open. "TOILET!!" he screamed and ran to the bathroom.
"Yeah," Liam laughed. "He was meant to go before we left to rehearse but he didn't have time. He performed all those songs with his bum squished together." We all laughed. Suddenly a loud echo sounded through the apartment.
"NIALL!!!" we all bellowed when we realised it was Niall's fart that had echoed loudly in the toilet bowl.
"I've been holding in 111 pancakes for four hours now so I'll fart as loudly as I want!" he shouted back.
"Ignoring that," Zayn said quiet enough for Niall not to hear.
"Okay, well," Liam clapped his hands together. "Nap time," he smiled and walked to his bedroom.
About three months ago Simon came up with a 'nap time' for us that goes from 2 to 4. If we are booked for something we'll defiantly go but that's because we need and want to. Nap time for us isn't actually for naps most of the time. It helps us relax and yes, catch up on sleep like Liam is doing. We normally play video games and stuff but not talk. We save our voices because it is hard singing for four hours roughly twice a day, rehearsal and the real thing.
I sat on the couch scrolling through my twitter as Zayn and Louis did the same. I could hear Liam's faint snores and Niall's bombers as I like to call them (when your poo drops and the toilet water splashes your bum.)
"Hey people. Can't wait for tomorrow, see you then!!!"
I quickly tweeted and instinctually got thousands of replies. I was contemplating on telling them I have an announcement but I want it to be a complete surprise.
"Did you hear that?" I said looking up. Someone had opened and closed their door in the hall and I could faintly hear the clinking of metal upon metal.
"Someone's probably just leaving. No biggie," Zayn shrugged.
"But it sounded close. Maybe Marcel and Edward's door. What could they be doing?" I said mostly to myself as I stood up and walked to the front door and opened it slowly.
I looked out and saw Marcel doing something to the plastic pot plant that was outside his door. I looked at the two outside my door and they looked normal. What could he me doing to his?
"What are you doing?" I whispered. He jumped back and dropped a wooden box, which the metal things were inside, causing a loud noise.
"Harry!" he whisper shouted as he turned to look at me. He bent down and picked up the box again. I walked out to him. He dug a small whole in the pot and started to bury the old, dirty box.
"What are you doing?" I asked again.
"I'm hiding them," he said back like it was so obvious.
"From who?" I asked. I haven't asked what they were yet.
"From Edward and I but mostly me," he said back.
"What's in the box?" I said putting a hand on his shoulder as the box was covered.
"Knives," he said simply.
"What?!" I gasped.
"What?" he said back, turning to look at me as he rubbed his hands together to get the dirt off them. (It's weird how a fake plant uses really dirt.)
"Why are you burring knives and where'd you get them?" I questioned.
"They were in the apartment. You know, knives, forks and spoons," he said simply.
"And why do you feel the urge to hide them?"
"Well, I would through them out but I don't think I'm allowed to."
"And the reason you’re burying them is..." I spoke sympathetically, noting that he was changing the subject a lot, probably because he didn't want to talk about it.
"I....I don't," he whispered. "I get....tempted," he spoke sadly looking down at the floor. I stared at him confused.
"I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled, looking back up at me.
"Marcel?" I said quietly, turning him back around when he turned to go back inside. "Please," I begged. "You may not know me as much as you know Edward but I'm your brother too. You can trust me," I spoke softly, staring him straight in his oh-so-familiar green eyes.
"I just..." he hesitated, looking anywhere but my eyes. He was really starting to worry me now. I slid my arm down from his shoulder and held onto his right wrist. He looked down at it and sighed.
"Go away," he whispered, pulling out of my grip and going back inside his room. He turned to look at me one last time as he closed the door slowly.
I stayed outside his door and just stared at it for a few minutes. I had a strong suspicion on what he was talking about but I hoped I was wrong. Not just wrong but I hoped that what I was thinking was way off.
I sighed and turned around and headed back into my hotel room.
"Hey. You were out for a while. What happened?" Zayn asked as he heard the door click closed.
"It was nothing," I whispered, too deep in thought. What is Marcel not telling me?
"What's wrong Harry?" Louis said concerned, putting his phone down and getting ready to stand up and come to me.
I shook my head and he sat up. Zayn put his phone down and sat up too. They came over to me, Zayn standing in front and Louis rubbing my back.
"Harry?" Louis whispered.
"I think something's wrong with Marcel," I said, my voice cracking. I am so worried. He's my little brother, why wouldn't I be?
"What happened?" Zayn said sympathetically.
"Marcel was outside," I sniffled, trying to distract myself from all the stress and worry I was starting to develop.
"He was doing something to one of the pot plants outside his door. I walked over and saw he was burring a box. I asked what was in it and he said knives," I looked up at my friends when I heard their breathing hitch.
"Why-why was he burring them?" Louis said, looking to Zayn who shrugged nervously.
"He said he'd rather through them out but it's a hotel room so he can't. Anyway, I asked him that question, and he said 'I get tempted.' I'm really worried guys," I looked up into Louis' eyes and then into Zayn's.
"Do you think we should ask him and not take no for an answer. The worst he can do is yell, right?" Zayn said, looking at me and Louis.
"I think I've made him mad enough for now," I whispered and walked out of the group.
"Get some rest Harry. We don't have anything planned for the rest of the day so sleep in," Louis said over my shoulder.
"I was planning to play some football on the field down the road with you guys but if you're not up to it, we can order room service and invite Edward and Marcel over here for dinner," he said and I nodded.
"Okay," I mumbled and walked into my room, closing the door.
I crawled into the bed and laid on the blankets, twiddling my thumbs and staring up at the ceiling. I hope it's nothing big. I wished he had just answered me so I didn't have to worry so much.
It felt like hours when my eyelids started to become heavy. Slowly they closed and a heavy darkness devoured me.
"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.
The ride to the stadium was surprisingly quick even if it was down the street. I thought there'd be more traffic because there's a big game on tonight.
The driver pulled into the VIP car park and I jumped out. Before Marcel had opened his door I run around and opened it for him.
"You're a true gentleman," he smiled as he grabbed the hand I had given to help him step down.
"So you made it boys," a voice from behind said. I turned around and saw Bobby Boswell. The Bobby Boswell. If you don't know who he is, he is a legend football player in DC United.
"Nice to finally meet you Harry. My daughter never shuts up about up," he said, walking over and extending his hand. I dropped Marcel's and shook it excitedly. I know he's not a British player but I do have some favs that don't play for England.
"Nice to meet you too Bobby," I whispered starstruck.
"So you know who I am," he nodded. "And who's this?" he said to Marcel, reaching out and shaking his hand.
"That's Marcel," I smiled at him. He looked like he had absolutely no idea who he was or else, just not starstruck like me.
"And are you two...." he trailed off, pointing between Marcel and I.
"We're not together," Marcel said quiet loudly.
"Oh," Bobby chucked nervously. "Anyway, you can come with me to meet the boys before the game if you want," he asked, pointing behind him. I nodded excitedly while Marcel just shrugged. "Okay boys, let's go," he said turning around and walking off.
I grabbed Marcel's hand and pulled him behind me. "If people ask us that question again Marcel, don't say no and don't say yes. Just let them be. If you say no they'll wonder what's happening," I whispered in his ear closely, leaning over his body.
"Boys, no PDA please," Bobby said, looking at us. I pulled away from Marcel and blushed.
"S-Sorry," I stuttered. He shrugged it off and we followed him up some stairs and down a few corridors.
"Here we are," he said dramatically, opening the locker room door. We walked in after him and I almost froze. So many legends.
"Harry!" half of them cheered and the others looked over and smiled. OMG!!! THEY KNOW MY NAME!!!!
I nervously waved at them. One of them wolf whispered and I looked at them.
"Who's that," Davy Arnaud winked at Marcel who was still clinging to be hand. I turned and looked at him as he hid behind me. He was as red as a tomato.
"That's Marcel," I said to them but still looking at Marcel. "Say hi Marcey," I said and slightly pulled him forwards. Some of the the players awwww-ed and some others whistled.
"You're cute. Don't be shy," Davy spoke again, coming closer a little. I'm just telling you that no one in this room is gay and Davy of all people isn't. He's happily married and has three little girls, Josey, Lucy and Gabby.
"I ummm.... I'll be outside Harry," he whispered.
"No Marcey, stay. It won't take long," I replied. He sighed but stayed.
"So Harry," another player said. "I never knew you were gay. When'd you come out?" he asked. I shook my head.
"Neither of us is gay," I said.
"So you're not gay," Davy said, pointing to our hands. Marcel let go and put it behind his back.
"No," I assured.
"Then what's happening here?" another played asked.
"I'm not telling anyone so think what you want. I want to keep it a secret a bit longer," I said to the grown men.
They nodded and went back to doing what they were doing before. Before we left, some of them asked for autographs to give to their wives or daughters and some just wanted it for themselves. I asked them to sign a Snapback they gave me so I could give it to Niall, and I also asked them to sign my shirt. I was wearing a football jersey just for the occasion. I was about to leave when the handed me three more pieces of clothing they all had signed to give to Liam, Louis and Zayn. I greatly accepted them.
I waved goodbye before I grabbed Marcel's hand again and walked out.
"You look like you're having fun and the game doesn't start for about ten minutes," Marcel said, leaning his head on my shoulder as we walked, hand in hand, to the VIP box.
I opened the door for him and he walked in before me, smiling a thanks.
"OMG! Harry! Is that you!" I women yelled as I walked in. "It is!" she yelled. She ran over and hugged me. I hugged back even though I didn't know who it was yet. She let go and that's when I got to see her face.
"Katy!" I said surprised as I was looking up at Katy Perry's face. "What are you doing here?" I said cheerfully.
"Well, I was in DC and had nothing to do so I came here hoping someone I knew would be here too. Who's this," she smiled at Marcel.
"This boy right here is the love of life," I smiled.
"Awwww," she sang.
"Yep," Marcel spoke up, wrapping his arms around me from behind. "Me and my brother make up his whole world."
"Wait, what?" she said confused.
"What? I love him and his brother equally but Edward's hanging with the boys tonight so I decided to take this rascal out for dinner them we came here," I said, ruffling his hair. "Gross," I chuckled, wiping the gel that was now on my hand, on my pants.
"So you're dating both of them," she said confused.
"Nope. Not dating any of them."
She looked so confused. "And you're okay with that?" she said to Marcel. He nodded.
"I'm not gay. Neither is Edward or Harry," he said.
"I'm so confused," she mumbled. I laughed at her and Marcel let go of me, laughing too.
"Don't worry love, I'm not gay or a whore so I wouldn't be dating both of them anyway. It'll make sense tomorrow. We're just trying to trick the press," I said.
"Okay. Well, the game's about to start so let's go lovebirds," she said, walking over to the window.
As we watched the teams do their warmups I quickly ran through the rules for Marcel. He nodded every time I looked at him to see if he was following. It looked like I really didn't have to do it though. It looked like he knew all the rules already. He told me afterwards that he likes football. He said he doesn't know all the players on every team but he knew the rules and that he had favourites.
The game started and DC United was in the lead, kicking the ball towards their goal.
"Foul!" I screamed, standing up from my chair and banging the glass. The referee blew his whistle and signalled halftime. "That was a foul!" I yelled at the people running around like they could hear me.
"Did you see that?!" I said turning to Marcel as Katy giggled. We were sitting on a lounge chair and I was in the middle so they were at the edges.
"Yeah," he nodded. "I've seen a few," he said. I looked at him weirdly. "Didn't you see them?" He asked jokingly.
"Number 4 on the red team caught the ball with his hands, the ball went off the field about three times and number 6 on the blue team just elbowed number 9 on the red team in the gut," he said to me.
"I never saw that. I saw the last one but..." I trailed off. "Foul!" I turned and screamed in the glass, knocking it with my fists again.
"Calm down Harry. The team you're going for is winning so don't worry," Katy said, putting her hand on my shoulder as I sat down.
**********************
"Whoa," I smiled as Marcel and I walked out of the box, hand in hand. "I can't believe DC won! I love them!"
"Yeah I know. You've told me. What time is it?" he said, looking around the corridors hoping to see a clock. I pulled out my phone and answered.
"It's nearly midnight. 11:47. The game ran overtime," I said and he nodded.
"Okay, let's go go-carting," I said excitedly.
"Nothing will be open Harry. It'd be fun but I don't think anything will be open at midnight," he laughed at my enthusiasm.
"Do you know who I am? I'm Harry freaking Styles. If I want to go go-carting, I'll go go-carting," I said to him, opening the garage door. Yes, I did remember the way.
"Diva," he mumbled and I chuckled.
"Harry! Harry!" people screamed, cameras flashing. Oh no. How'd they get inside?
"Who's this?!" they yelled. I could feel Marcel stiffen but I dragged him forwards.
"Can you people please give us privacy!" I yelled, trying to push my way through, dragging Marcel behind me again.
"Is this your boyfriend?!" many people yelled.
"What's your name?" people yelled, shoving stuff in Marcel's face. I quickly pulled him close. His head was buried in the crook of my neck from behind, hopefully zoning out the noise.
I pushed through, quiet violently because no one would move, and found the car sitting exactly where we left it. I was about to reach the door when a little girl came up with a microphone came and stood in our way.
"Please Harry," he begged. I sighed but knelt down.
"One question only," I sighed again.
"Okay," she said. "This is not a question. I just wanted to let you know that if you're gay, we won't care. Don't hide your sexuality because of us. Love is love and you can't change that," she smiled at me, her gorgeous blue eyes glistening up at me. This girl is amazing. I can't believe she's so young and she's supports gay and I'm assuming lesbian relationships. I wish I could meet the parents that raised her so well.
"If I were gay, I'd come out for you," I smiled and hugged her. I heard her breath hitch but she quickly hugged back, jumping from excitement. "I love you Harry," she smiled into my ear as I slowly let go.
I stood back up and unlocked the car door. I pulled Marcel forward and helped him in. I felt bad. He looked so petrified.
"So you're not gay! Who's is this?" I heard people yell as I slammed the door shut.
"Drive," I practically demanded the driver. He didn't take offence to it because he knew I was rushed so he quickly pulled out and slowly made the people get out of the path.
"Calm down Marcey, it's better now," I assured after putting on my seatbelt. He nodded slowly, taking in deep breaths. This kinda worries me. I hope he gets over it. It'll be hard on him when we come out.
"Are we going out again or calling it a night," I whispered carefully.
"I think I'm done for the night. I haven't stayed up this late since finals," he said. I admit I'm kind of disappointed because I was looking forward to go-carting but I guess I can take all seven of us out some time.
"Back to the hotel please," I said to the driver. He nodded and smiled.
"Will do Harry," he said clearly, stopping for the traffic. Tonight is now really busy. It'll take a while to get home.
The 35 minute ride home was pretty much silent. Occasionally we'd point out the window at something and laugh at it but that's pretty much it. When we pulled up to the hotel, there were literally thousands of screaming girls. I felt bad for the orphans inside who are trying to sleep for the big day tomorrow and the boys who were probably trying to get to sleep now too.
Fortunately, Paul and the security crew had set a path for me and Marcel to go on. I've had two paparazzi swam me today and I'm not in the mood for another one and I know Marcel feels the same way.
I jumped out and so did Marcel. We walked up the path not holding hands like the last times. I waved and smiled as I walked past and Marcel just blushed and stared at the ground.
"Thanks Paul," I whispered in Paul's ear when we both got to the doors.
"You're welcome. Now hurry up, you both have a big day ahead of you," he whispered back, helping us inside.
He followed us in and escorted us to the elevator. "Hope you had a fun night Marcel," he smiled and nodded at my little brother who looked up at his name and smiled.
"Yeah, it was fun," he said.
"What about me?" I asked mock offended when Paul didn't ask about my night.
"You always have 'fun' Harry," he quoted the word fun with his fingers. "Okay. Goodnight to you both but it's an early rise tomorrow so chop chop," he clapped. I nodded good night and pressed for floor 59 and waited as the doors to close.
"I hope you had as much fun as I did Marcey. I enjoyed spending time with you. You were a bit shy around Katy and the paps but you'll get better," I smiled at him.
"I did have fun," he nodded. "Sorry we couldn't go go-carting. I know you wanted to but it's half past 12 and I'm tired," he said.
"It's fine. Maybe some other time," I said just as the doors opened. We walked down the hall and to our separate doors.
"Okay," I said as we stood at our doors. "Goodnight Marcey," I cooed.
"Goodnight Harriet," he smirked and winked at me before walking in his room, and closing the door behind him. What's up with him giving girl nicknames? Bella. Harriet.
I chucked to myself as I quietly walked in. I placed the keys as quietly as I could on the kitchen bench before I slid my shoes off. I took off Marcel's coat and Fedora and made a mental note to return them tomorrow. I carefully put the boys' sighed stuff on the table as I tiptoed into my bedroom. I slowly crept into the covers and, without getting up to have a shower, I fell straight to sleep. Didn't think I was that tired but I guess I was.