Stupid Dreamers

Chapter 24: Trouble

"What the hell were you thinking?" Powell boomed at me as soon as I let the door to my hotel room shut behind me and making me drop my heels on the hard ground. Although I was sort of attempting to be a bit quieter, I already expected him to be here instead of his own room, ready to point out my mistakes and punish me. When I look up, I see the three of my crew standing with arms crossed over their chests and glares masking their faces towards me.

"Powell, please. I can explain," I start off calmly as I can, yet I had no hope for that working.

"How Erin?" He starts, almost at a loss for words. "You weren't thinking? You got a bit tipsy? I didn't even have to be there to know you got wasted, probably did some things you weren't supposed to, and made a complete fool of yourself!" He shouts at me.

"Gee, thanks for expecting that from me," I argue back. Powell scoffs.

"How do I dare even trust you again? Your whole little play last night showed me how you can't be responsible and that I should probably have Carter babysit you since you can't handle yourself," He yells. I look down in shame this time, unable to argue back anymore.

"Did it really have to be Harry Styles?" He spits his name out. I look up at him with wide eyes.

"How did you know that?" He lets out a mean laugh.

"Because luckily, for both you and him," He points a finger at me and narrows his eyes over his thick-framed glasses. "It's all over the internet. Soon it will be in the magazines and by now, it's probably trending. Do you understand what this does to your image? Your reputation? Was it your main goal to get wasted and show how responsible of a person you really are to the world?"

"Alright! I get it!" I exclaim, throwing my hands up and glancing at all three of them. I let out a small sigh. "I'm sorry I made a complete fool of myself last night. I didn't intentionally mean to get drunk, I just had too many drinks. I wasn't thinking about who I went home with and what I was doing. So I'm sorry, and I will try to be more aware of my actions next time, or perhaps not drink at all,"

"You're damn right you won't. We're going to be monitoring you a bit more on your next big events and you will not be able to have more than one drink per event until we tell you different. Understood?" I wanted to start ranting about how he's treating me like a child, but all I did was bite my lip and nod.

The three of them left my room without a second glance. Powell slammed the door behind him, making me wince. I honestly wanted to just break down on the floor and start crying. I was so upset with myself, my shitty self who couldn't think to stay sober for my one special night. I screwed it up. I was wasted enough to get dragged home by none other than Harry Styles. Although I was slightly grateful that it was someone I knew, I still regret all the events that happened before he took me to his own place.

I swallow a forming lump in my throat, uncurling my fist to reveal the small folded up piece of paper. Before I forget about it, I walk over to my nightstand and reach my hand out for my phone and following the process of adding him in as a new contact. As organized as I could be, I was prone to lose things, and I couldn't help but want to actually save his number for safekeeping.

By now, everyone probably thinks we're a couple. I don't even dare research the articles on my phone. I could just imagine. They'd be dark with a bit of a pixelated haze, but you'd be able to see Harry's form trying to balance mine as he'd take me into his own hotel. It's not a very pretty picture in my mind. It's going to lead to trouble for the both of us now.

All of this was my fault. He was just trying to be nice and get me somewhere safe. If I didn't get drunk, or at least as drunk as I was, then I would've gotten in my own car and came back to my own room with my own carefully made bed and wouldn't have Harry's number in my phone. I've never screwed up so much before; not in my career and time of interviews and photo shoots and public sightings. I shouldn't have done it. I'm an idiot and soon-to-be failed celebrity.

I feel the tears coming and I don't even try to keep myself together. I hold my hand up to my mouth to soften my incoming sobs and soon make my way over to the bathroom, locking the door and looking for my fresh new pack of razors that I brought along.

***********************

Harry's P.O.V.

"So that's all that happened?" Liam presses me. He was listening intently on my story beginning with the moment I talked to Erin last night.

"Yes, that's all," I confirmed. He presses his lips into a firm line and then lets out a sigh, shaking his head.

"That's not what everyone else thinks," I didn't have to ask to know exactly what he was talking about.

"I know," I mutter, leaning on the hard counter in front of me and running a hand through my hair. Only a few minutes after Erin left, Liam came sprinting into my room-clad in a white t-shirt and batman pajama pants that the lads and I still make fun of-demanding to know what happened with us last night. He obviously saw some sort of news that freaked him out a bit. All we really could do was shrug it off. I wanted to sort of deny it with a tweet, but we weren't sure how management would feel about it yet.

"It's your fault you know, you shouldn't have done any of that," He says as a matter of fact.

"Really?" I scoff. "It's odd hearing that from you mister...help everyone,"

"She didn't need nor want any help, especially any from you," He sneers.

"Zayn was the one who suggested it in the first place," I bring up. Liam groans.

"Really Harry? Playing the blame game now are we?"

"I'm serious!" I exclaim. "I denied it and he was all 'better make sure she gets home' and so I did,"

"Harry, if she was a complete stranger would you have done the same thing?" He asks. I ponder about it for a minute.

"No, although I'm not exactly sure what I'd do," I answer. Liam lets a small smile cover his face.

"Yet you knew exactly what to do with Erin. Isn't that funny?" He says slowly. I stay silent, turning around and pretending to look for something.

"You like her," Liam states in a teasing manner. I close a cabinet to turn back around and look at him.

"I do not," I affirm, although I can already feel my cheeks getting hot.

"You do, and you're not very good at hiding it," He sighs again. "Well thanks to your little act, everyone seems to think so. You better take any chance you get to confront people about it, because we won't be doing it for you. Got it?" I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his ridiculous behavior towards me.

"Yes," I simply say.

"Good, now get going." He says, making his way towards the door. "We've got a show tonight," He smiles at me, then walks out the door. All I can do now is walk back over to my bed, flopping myself onto it and groaning into the pillow.

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