A loud, incessant banging wakes me up way too early the next morning and, as much as I don't want to move, I am fairly convinced that if I don't locate the source of the noise and shut it up soon, my head is going to crack open straight down the middle.
I blearily make my way to my tiny hotel room door, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and cursing myself for falling asleep in the only decent pair of jeans I have with me and fling open the door in a huff.
"Never let me have one of those pink things again. Ever." Sammy greets me as she pushes past me into the room. She's wearing grey joggers and a treat people with kindness T-shirt which I am assuming she has liberated from the merchandise store. Along with a pair of oversized round-rimmed sunglasses.
Despite the fact that it's April, in the north of England and there isn't a speck of sunlight to be seen. the only thing visable from the tiny window in my room, where the curtains stand wide open - How drunk was I last night? - is a sea of low lying grey clouds.
"Fairly certain that last night proved I have zero control over you. Thought I made it clear I was only staying for one drink?" I huff and fall back down on my bed, propping myself up against the pillows. Sammy joins me, quickly making herself comfortable and kicking off her trainers which land with a dull thunk as they hit the floor one by one.
"Moi? I was the innocent party in all of this. I blame Clarke."
"Me too. Let's blame Clarke. Everything is his fault" I concur as Sammy picks up the remote for the tiny TV which is sat on an old-style dresser in the corner of the room and turns it on. Flicking slowly through the channels until she finds what appears to be a kids cartoon. Seemingly satisfied, she rolls on the bed to face me.
"So. What happened with you and H last night then? When I left you two were looking pretty cosy," She asks, without a trace of embarrassment at her intrusion into my personal life. Despite not having known her for twenty-four hours yet, I find myself completely comfortable with her mini-interrogation. I'd much rather she asked me outright than gossiped behind my back, and I really do think she and I are becoming friends.
"If I remember correctly, I swore in front of him, again, loudly after bashing into him. Then he just forced me to drink extra strong coffee until he was satisfied. I was sober enough to be left unattended, and he showed me to my room. All perfectly PG. Except for the swearing of course. Where did you fuck off to anyways? One minute you were there, then you weren't?" I ask her as I make my way over to the tiny kettle that they always seem to have in British hotel rooms and flick it on. Locating a couple of tea bags, I throw them into two ludicrously small cups which are only going to hold about three mouthfuls each. God, I'd murder a coffee right now.
"Well... I sort of got an offer I couldn't refuse..." Sammy says, showing some sheepishness for the first time since I've met her. "I knew H would take care of you!" She finishes defensively
"You do realise both you and Clarke spent quite some time last night advising me AGAINST getting too friendly with other crew members? Then both promptly disappeared in the middle of the night to do just that right?"
"We advised you not to get in a relationship with anyone on the crew. We didn't say you shouldn't have any fun! C'mon! We're young, we're hot, and we're travelling the world with a rock star for god's sake! If H didn't want any hanky-panky, he should have hired a crew of nuns. Even his bandmates are at it," Sammy informs me as I hand her one of the mini cups of tea.
"Sugar?" I ask
"Sweet enough already thanks" She smiles back
"Dare I ask who's room you snuck off to then?"
"Freddie's... I don't think you've met him yet. He's one of the riggers. Not normally my type but I can't say my judgement was at its best last night. He was ok though, seven out of ten I reckon, although that could be the pink thing talking. I'd recommend him to a friend. I'll point him out to you on the bus later." She says in a rush
"Cheers, but I think you can offer up your sloppy seconds to someone else, thanks!" I tease her blowing on my tea to try and cool it down enough to drink.
"So ungrateful. There's me, trying to make sure you feel welcome here and you throw it straight back in my face. Wanna go grab some lunch before the bus leaves? There's a nice little cafe down the road."
"Shit! Breakfast!" I exclaim as a vague memory of Harry asking me to meet him in his room resurfaces from the depths of my foggy brain "What time is it?" I ask Sammy, leaning across her to the bedside table on which my phone is sitting, but when I tap the screen, there's nothing. It's dead. Apparently, I didn't manage to do anything at all when I got back last night.
"Little before eleven I think, what's got your knickers in a twist?"
"Shitshitshit. I'm meant to be meeting Harry for breakfast at eleven!! More shit. I need to shower." I say thrusting my now empty teacup into Sammy's hand and making my way to the en-suite bathroom. Which it turns out is just about big enough for me to strip in if I stand half in, half out of the shower. Wonderful.
"What! You're going for breakfast with the boss?" Sammy says, looking shocked, just as I am closing the door behind me. Her eyebrows become visible for the first time as they rise above her oversized glasses.
Ignoring her, I shut the door, quickly grab the complimentary hotel toiletries from the small shelf above the sink and jump under the shower. It's utterly impossible to get the temperature right, either the water is scalding hot or freezing cold, there's no in-between. I make quick work of cleaning myself and washing my hair, and secure a towel under my armpits whilst I brush my teeth before I head back out into the bedroom. Where Sammy is still sitting sipping her tea, watching cartoons, occasionally giggling to herself as Road Runner outwits the Coyote once again.
"Where's my suitcase?" I say more to myself than Sammy as I glance around the tiny room. Hallway! I think as I suddenly remember Harry placing it there for me last night and rush out to grab it. I throw it open and rummage around trying to locate everything I need. Knickers, bra, socks. What the hell does one wear to a breakfast meeting with your new boss whom you've already made a twat out of yourself in front of on no less than two occasions?
"Black jeans and that white top there," Sammy says, helpfully pointing into the mass of clothes I've thrown all over the floor as if sensing my confusion and reading my mind.
"Thanks," I say as I rush back into the hallway out of her field of vision and start pulling on my clothes, throwing my hair up into a messy bun and discarding the wet towel on the floor.
"It's ten-fifty-four," Sammy calls out.
"Alright talking clock, I'm hurrying!" I fire back as I walk back into the main room and grab my make-up bag and stare at my reflection in the slightly tarnished mirror on the wall. Even the bags under my eyes seem to have bought their own carry on luggage today. Shit again.
"Are you going to tell me why on earth you are having breakfast with Harry?" Sammy asks again. Edging to the end of the bed and tucking a couple of loose strands of my wet hair into my bun as I start to hurriedly dab on some concealer. Which does bugger all to hide the bags, a little mascara and some lip gloss. That'll have to do I think to myself.
"I dunno. Cos he asked?" I say
"You're gonna have to do better than that Maddie," Sammy says, spinning me around on the wheeled chair I am sitting on so that I am facing her. She lifts her sunglasses and places them on top of her head so that she can stare at me intimidatingly, ahh good the bags under her eyes are at least as big as mine. But then she doesn't have to go and have breakfast in the penthouse this morning does she? Why am I doing this again? I question myself as I stare into Sammy's curious brown eyes and rack my brain for an answer.
"I mentioned I'd not eaten much yesterday between the travelling, the interview, starting work, the show. I just hadn't had much time, and that's why the drink hit me so quickly. Apparently, Harry wants to hear what I thought of his show, god knows why, so he asked me to go up to his room for breakfast. A breakfast that, if you don't let go of me, I am going to be late for." I add slightly more tetchily than I mean to as I push her hands off my thighs where they have been resting as she glares at me, stand and try to locate my shoes.
"Hmm," Sammy says
"Hmm, what?"
"Hmm, I've never known any of the crew to go to H's room before. I mean we eat with him in Sarah's Kitchen from time to time but in his room? That's a new one on me" She clarifies.
"Read your shirt, Sammy." I say, gesturing to the large printed words written across her boobs "He's just being kind, isn't that sort of his thing? Now I really have to go!"
"Ok Ok, meet me back here at half-two though so we can make sure we don't miss the bus," she says, tossing me my dead phone. "I'm sure Harry will have a charger you can borrow, what's your number?"
I quickly program my phone number into Sammy's iPhone, which is covered in a Tweety bird case, not what I'd have expected from her at all. Still, it does make the amount of enjoyment she's getting from the cartoons make more sense, and hand it back to her, shoving my feet into my trainers as I make my way down the hall.
"Key!" Sammy shouts behind me, and I remember to grab the little credit card like contraption from its holder on the way out the door.
"Crap." I hear Sammy mutter as all the lights go out in the room and she's plunged into semi-darkness, and the TV switches itself off. I giggle to myself as I remember that in these kinds of rooms unless the key is safely tucked into its little wall nook thingy, nothing electric will work, poor Sammy. I'm sure she's got her own room to go and lay about in through I think as I make my way down the hall to the lifts. Stepping in, I hit the button for the top floor and lean heavily against the wall as the lift makes its way up fifteen levels.
"Can I help you?" A large balding man asks me as the lift doors slide open on to the top floor.
"Er, I'm Maddie, Matilda Graham? I'm meant to be meeting Harry, er Mr Styles?" I tell him, hoping this is what he needs to hear.
"Ah right, go ahead love, straight down the end there," He says with a smile pointing down the hallway and looking much happier now that he's confirmed I am not some crazed stalker. The more time I spend immersed in Harry Styles world, the more I realise how much his privacy seems to be always at risk.
I make my way down another short hallway to a large set of double doors and knock lightly. Please be awake. Please, please be awake. I mutter under my breath as my stomach growls.