You're Asked To Leave
Harry: His cheek is flushed red, but not from embarrassment. You look down at your hand, the sting still there. “Okay you two, that’s enough,” Paul says stepping in between your glares. “Why would you even bring that up?” You seethe. Harry just stares over Paul’s shoulder at you, knowing he had broken his promise to not bring up your past mistakes, but not at all sorry he had. “Huh? Why?!” You shout, stepping closer to him, Paul reaching out his hand to keep you back. “I thought we had moved past this Harry. You said we were starting over.” Tears begin to fall once more as the thought of him not actually forgiving your past came back. It had been nearly a year ago, and your relationship had ended because of it. Because of you. The possessive demeanor that once controlled you had ruined your relationship with him. It was the trust issues. He had never done anything to give you a reason not to trust him though. So when you were constantly asking him questions about every part of his life he began to get annoyed. Your actions brought on some of your worst fights. You were so blinded by your love for him, your possession, that you couldn’t see how badly you were tearing him apart. He had tried for the longest time to wait it out in hopes you would eventually let your insecurities go. It didn’t come, though. Even his mom advised him to end the relationship. The day it ended was the day you ended. The words ‘crazy bitch’ still haunted you. You had never seen him so angry with anyone, but the fact that it was all directed towards you hurt the most. You hadn’t seen it coming, and it left you completely shattered. You had nothing. You were apart for months; way too long. Every day harder than the last. You had fought your way back though, to prove to him that you had changed while on your own. You really had. No longer did you feel the need to constantly know where he was and what he was doing. You called him less, and trusted him more. Remembering that even before he had never done anything to make you think otherwise. The time away from him killed you, made you want to be better. He made you want to be better. But in this moment he had brought everything back. “So we’re back to you not trusting me? We’re back to you being a crazy bitch again?” His words had hit you just as they had all those months ago. You couldn’t stop yourself from smacking him. “We can’t start over if you haven’t actually changed,” he replies, his eyes still locked on yours. “You know I’ve changed!! You know I have!” You counter, your body pushing up against Paul’s, your anger showcased in every action. You had worked so hard to get him back, how could he be saying these things? How could he bring you back to that time in your life? You had only asked him what his plans were after the show, seeing as by this point in the day the two of you had already come up with something post show. It’s like your question was his trigger; bringing everything back, bringing your past back. He wasn’t over it, your past. If you couldn’t ask him about his plans without him reacting like this then he wasn’t over it, wasn’t over you treating him like you used to. He had told you over and over that he had forgiven you, and that he had missed you not being around, no matter the treatment. As your thoughts take over and you realize that he wasn’t actually over your mistakes the anger rises. He had you thinking everything was alright. That you changing had worked. That the two of you were finally going to be alright. That wasn’t the case. You launch past Paul at this realization, everything in you seething. This time your fist is what connects to his face, his head turning after the connection. Paul’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back away from Harry. “LIAR!” You shout as Paul continues to hold you back. “You said we were going to be alright!” Harry continues to look at the floor, turning away from you to walk out of the room. “Don’t walk away from me Harry!” He is though, he’s gone. “I think it’s best you leave, too,” Paul says, slowly releasing his grip from around your waist. “And go where? The dressing room?” There weren’t many places in the stadium that would keep you away from Harry. “The hotel,” Paul returns. You look up at him in confusion. “I think it’s best you just leave here all together.”
Liam: Smiling. You can’t help it. You were so glad he was home even if it was just for a few days. His hand is in yours as he drives to dinner. Exactly what he had promised to do once he returned. You loved the concentration on his face when he drove. “What?” He questions, his eyes focused on the road. You shake your head, still staring at him. “Nothing.” He smiles, squeezing your hand tighter. You were so happy to have him back. “You want to walk, or no?” He asks, having been searching for parking as he drove through Soho. “Whatever you want to do, I don’t mind to walk.” Liam looks down at your choice of shoe and laughs. “We’ll get a place up front.” As he slowly passes Hix, still searching, you point out a place he can fit in that’s only a block away. After parking along the street he gets out only to walk around the front of the car and into the street to open your door. “Always looking out for me,” you tease with a smile. “Always.” He takes your hand as he shuts your door back, escorting you over to the sidewalk and away from the traffic. “Good evening, Mr. Payne,” the woman at the hostess stand greets with a smile. No need to tell her the name the reservation was under. “You’re table is right this way.” She leads you through the restaurant, eyes looking up as the public realizes Liam is back in town. He pushes your chair under the table before coming around to take his seat across from you. “So polite tonight,” you acknowledge playfully, having missed all of his small gestures that made you feel so important. “Can we get the Isabel Estate Pinot Noir,” he requests, handing the wine list back to the server that had joined you. “Yes, sir.” “Expensive taste, there Mr. Payne,” you tease, tracing circles on his hand from across the table. This moment was perfect. You were overjoyed to finally have him back with you. You had been looking forward to this dinner ever since he had promised it to you a week ago. “We’ll go wherever you want to go, no changing of plans, no interruptions. I promise.” You watch as the server comes back with Liam’s wine request, setting down two glasses in front of you and beginning to pour. “To finally being back,” Liam toasts, holding his glass towards you. You chuckle slightly at his tribute, tapping your glass with his in agreement. “I’ll do the Aberdeenshire fillet,” Liam answers once the server had returned for the dinner order. “I’ll have the Smoked Haddock.” Your favorite; you loved it here. As Liam pours you another glass of wine, the two of you are approached by the woman from the hostess stand followed by a well-dressed man, you recognized him as the owner. You had only seen him once though, he was never usually around. “Good evening Mr. Payne, glad to have you back with us,” he begins as the hostess leaves him to talk with the two of you. “It’s great to be back Mark, how are you?” Liam greets, extending his hand. “I’m doing well,” he responds, pausing only a short moment before continuing with the purpose of his visit. “It seems there is a situation happening outside, and it’s starting to be more than we can control.” Liam listens intently, unsure of exactly what he is talking about. “My staff knows not to disclose who comes in and out of this restaurant to the media, so I’m not sure how, but there are at least fifty paparazzi standing right outside the front entrance.” Your eyes grow wide. “Fifty?” You question softly. You’ve never even seen that many around with all five of the boys. “Yes, they know they aren’t allowed inside, but that isn’t stopping them from pressing up against the front of the building. It’s becoming dangerous.” “What should we do?” Liam asks, willing to help in any way. “Well I don’t want to have to do this. Your loyalty to Hix means so much, but I’m going to have to ask two of you to leave.” Liam looks from Mark to you, his promise having just been broken. You nod your head knowing it was what needs to be done. If the two of you stayed the numbers would grow and the rest of the customers and staff would be put into even more danger. “Okay, yeah, we’ll go,” Liam responds, getting up from the table, reaching in his pants pocket for his wallet. “No, no,” Mark says holding his hand up to stop him. “It’s on me.” “No Mark, that’s a seventy pound bottle of wine, I’m paying for it.” Mark shakes his head, pushing Liam’s wallet away. “Just tell me you’ll come back,” Mark states, compassion in his smile. “Yes, of course, you know we love it here,” Liam responds, taking your hand as Mark escorts you back through the restaurant to face the crowed you had gathered outside.
Niall: It’s his job. You’re always reminding yourself of this. You sit off to the side, out of the way, watching on as Zayn finishes up his session with the photographer. You don’t usually come with him to photo shoots, but after taking in the photographer’s ‘ideas’, you were glad you did. They had done shoots with models before, but this was different. This wasn’t for a teen magazine. Niall and the boys had signed a deal with Yves Saint Laurent to be the face of the 2015 Men’s Spring/Summer line, this was their campaign shoot. “Can we get Niall on set please,” you hear echoing through the room via everyone’s radios. As the photographer helps Zayn up from his spot on the floor he had been stretched out on, Niall emerges from hair and makeup. He looks good, you can’t deny him that. He was never the one to be dressed in leather, or sheer button ups; that was Harry’s look. However, when he stepped out in black skinny jeans, a black sheer top, buttoned only to his chest, leather jacket and black leather boots you were stunned. Does he get to keep these clothes? Can he come home like this? His hair was signature though, just slightly stretching taller than when Lou would do it. The set designers pull in an arm chair, sliding it across the white canvas floor. “Take a seat,” the photographer instructs Niall as he walks onto set. “Where’s Felicity?” He calls out, looking around as the stylist picks at Niall’s hair to perfect it. You hear the clicking of heels on the concrete. Here it comes. You sit back in your seat, legs crossed, your fingernail in between your teeth. She walks onto set and your eyes widen. She was only in a robe, and as she unties the silk belt, handing the robe off to another stylist, your mouth drops. “HELL NO!!!” You shout, shaking your head and getting up from your seat, walking past the photo equipment. Niall looks beyond his stylist to see what your fuss is about, noticing it quickly. She was naked, ten inch heels being the only thing on her. Niall’s eyes were wide, not being able to look away. “NIALL!” You shout, bringing him back from whatever he was thinking. He shakes his head and his gaze is back on you. He shrugs his shoulders. Your eyes blaze. “Fuck no! No, no, no!” You begin to rant. “Where the fuck are your clothes?” You question the model as she stands before you with confidence. “Babe,” Niall responds weakly. He doesn’t know what to do. He had no idea this was what the photographer had planned for his shoot. “You need to go sit back down,” the security guard tells you, having walked up as soon as you started yelling. You roll your eyes. “Why the hell didn’t you give Harry the naked one?” You scoff. “He’s the one that fucking wears your clothes!” Niall stays silent. “Get off me!” You jerk your arm out of the man’s grasp, heading back to your chair off set. He’s going home with you. Keep reminding yourself of that. He’s going home with you. Your eyes glare at the two of them as your legs begin to twitch. You watch on as she is instructed to face and straddle him. “Now put your hands on her back firmly and lean forward slightly. Now Felicity, I want you to bend back for me but keep your eyes closed.” What is this, fucking yoga? Niall doesn’t dare look over to you, knowing how enraged you already were with him. “Perfect.” As the camera lights begin to flash your nerves grow. “Okay, now Niall, rest your head on her stomach for me, but still hold her like that.” He moves over to the side to get Niall’s face. “Eyes closed.” “Great. Now, get up for me now babe,” he begins, preparing for another pose. “Niall sit back all the way, Felicity, come up here please,” he instructs, pointing to the back of the chair. “Sit up there for me and bring your legs down over him.” Excuse me? No. Absolutely not. “No,” you speak up yet again, getting up from your chair. “Sit back down,” the guard warns. “Hell no!” You push past him. “Niall!” You shout, but your stride is stopped by a large hand gripping your arm. “Get off me!” “I think it’s time for you to leave,” he says, using his other hand to pull you further away from set.
Louis: The music was loud. You loved it loud. Louis had just gotten back from tour and tonight was the night to go out. You were ready. Ready to be with him and in this environment. This scene was perfect for you two. Your eyes scan the floor from the private loft Louis had reserved. You’re looking for him. He had been gone for longer than it took to get more drinks. Your eyes continue to focus on each individual hoping his familiar face would show up. It doesn’t though and you continue to scan. Your focus is brought from the bar to the commotion happening just underneath you. The music is so loud so you have no idea what is being said and why it’s such an issue. You squint to better your vision and notice that Louis is beneath you. You can tell he’s pissed. The guy in front of him obviously having said something to royally upset him. He looks up at you, his mouth moving and Louis follows suit before turning back to him, his fist connecting with the guy’s face. Your eyes grow wide at the site. “Louis, no!” You shout helplessly, quickly running to the stairs to get down to the main floor. By the time you reach him, he is being escorted out of the club, the bouncer’s grip tight on his arms. “I don’t care who the hell you are, you aren’t going to fight in my club!” He says as he shoves Louis out the entrance. You stand at the door, starring as Louis wipes the blood from his lip. You shake your head. Of course he had to fight. He had to get better control of his temper. You walk back inside and up to the loft to get your clutch and Louis’s jacket before heading back down to the floor. You walk over to the bouncer that had just thrown your boyfriend out. “I’m so sorry about that,” you apologize to him. “Tell him he better get his shit together if he wants to come back. I can’t have him fighting the promoter.” Shit. Of course he would fight the most important man in the building. You nod and head out to confront the trouble maker. You hand him his jacket as the two of you get into the cab he had obviously called while you were back inside. “What the hell was that all about?” You question not making any accusations just yet. He’s silent. He knows you’re disappointed. “Louis…” He looks at you and you are forced to see the severity of his injuries. You shake your head at his cut lip, bruising right eye, and the gash on his forehead. “You’re going to need stitches,” you tell him and he shakes his head. “Uh, yeah. That’s really deep,” you comment, scooting closer and pushing his hair back to see the cut more clearly. “We need to go to the hospital,” you say to the driver and he nods his head, slowing down to change his route. “I don’t need to go to the fucking hospital,” Louis spits. You take your hand out of his hair and sit back. “We’re going to the hospital, you need stitches.” The ride is silent all the way to Royal London. You ask the taxi to wait for you outside, promising to pay the extra fair for however long you and Louis are inside. He is taken straight back into a room and you follow closely behind. “You going to tell me what happened?” You inquire as the nurse leaves the room to get the doctor who will stitch Louis’s head back together. “He was just running his mouth,” he responds, not looking at you. “About what?” If you didn’t press him, he wouldn’t tell you anything. “Just shit.” “Louis.” “He was just talking shit about me and the lads. Said he didn’t want me in his club.” “So you punched him for that?” You didn’t understand where his anger had come from. “He also said you were too good for me, that I could leave you there for him to fuck you the way you deserve.” Oh. That’s why he had looked up at you. You understood him now. His reaction was justified.
Zayn: You loved birthdays. Anyone’s birthday. It was always a good time. “Happy Birthday, babe,” you say loudly into Liam’s ear as you press a kiss to his cheek. It was so loud in here. Liam never halfassed anything, this party was incredible. After the show the boy’s had just had, you weren’t sure anything could top it. This topped it. Zayn’s hand is tightly around yours, leading you over to the bar once you had greeted Liam. Tonight was going to be great. You pull Zayn onto the dance floor once both of you had a few drinks in you, making dancing an easy option. This place was packed. You were sure Liam didn’t know most of these people, but it was nice of them to show up anyways. You held you cup up as you escorted Zayn over to dance. The faster the beat, the more you drank. Thank you Liam for finally turning twenty-one. Zayn’s hands grip your waist as your forehead rests on his, both of you swaying with the music. Your free hand latches around his neck and you pull yourself into him, the heat between the two of you rising. You down the rest of your drink before sitting it on the tray the waiter is carrying around, not entirely sure that’s where it belonged. She walked away regardless and you were free to tug Zayn even closer. Your lips find his as your fingers get tangled in his hair, gripping tightly releasing a moan from his mouth into yours. His hands are tighter on your hips. You need another drink. You pull back from him only after leaving a bite mark on his lower lip causing him to suck on it as your pull him off towards the bar. “Four shots of Patrón,” you order, as the bartender walks up to you. He sets two tall shot glasses on the bar, filling them both completely with your request. You take the glass in your hand, removing the lime before downing the tequila, chasing it down with the lime. Zayn does the same; his eyes clinch at the sour taste of the lime. “Can we get another,” you request, Zayn laughing at your ambitions. After the second double shots are down Zayn pulls you towards an empty lounge. He clumsily falls down onto the cushion, bringing you down with him, both of you laughing at your instability. You pull yourself up off of him, but only to face him, a leg on either side of his. Your arms warp around his neck as he pulls you closer to him. He quickly finds your lips again, the taste of alcohol shared between you. As the heat between you begins to rise yet again your hips begin to move with your passion, grinding into Zayn’s lap making his kisses more intense. “They haven’t stopped since they walked in,” Liam tells Harry, nodding over to the two of you still going at it on the couch. Harry shakes his head and chuckles. “Had a little too many,” he remarks. “Someone’s going to have to keep an eye on them, you know what’s next.” They laugh as they remember how these sorts of situations usually go for you and Zayn. “Might as well call someone and send them back to the hotel,” Liam suggests. Harry nods and gets his phone out to call Preston. “He said he’s already outside,” he tells Liam once off the phone. “Good.” The two walk over to you and Zayn, you still grinding on his lap and Zayn having moved his lips to your neck. “Okay you two, time to go,” Liam begins, causing Zayn to pull back. “What?” Zayn questions. “We’re kicking you out,” Harry answers. “Why?” You ask, getting up off of Zayn’s lap with help from Harry’s extended hand. “Because I don’t really want to watch you both have sex at my party,” Liam comments, a playful smile on his face even though he knows that’s what would be coming up next if he wasn’t sending you off.