Harry's P.O.V
I watched Niall walk out and Liam trail behind as I closed the door of my hotel room. I walked toward the door and laid my head against it as I closed my eyes and regretably recalled all of the recent events. I want to know what Niall thinks. I want to talk this out. But how?
I banged my head softly against the door a few times; my curls cushioning my forehead barely. I walked away and sat on the bed again. Sinking half of the side of the bed with my weight. I ran my fingers through my curls and breathed harshly. I just wanted to disappear because of the horrific scene that just happened. But then again, I wanted to stay so I can talk it out with Niall. I know I am never going to admit it myself... But I think part of me is falling in love with Niall.
To trigure me out of my thoughts, my cell phone rang. I took out my smart phone and looked at the screen. It read Uknown Number. I looked at it and debated whether or not to answer. I slid the green answer button across the screen and put it up to my ear.
"Ello?" I said into the phone.
"Mr. Styles? It's Paul from management. Remember at 6:30 tonight you have a date with Taylor Swift." The guy said. I rubbed my eyes and scoffed. Shit.
"Do I have to?" I asked bitterly.
"You have no choice, Harold!" He yelled into the phone. "You both are a big hit. That means big fame. Big money. Now do as your told." That was the last thing ordered to me before it was dead silence on the other line.
I would rather spend time with Niall. I was longing to even speak to Niall. But it has to always be about Haylor. I hate it. So do some fans. I hate the hate mail. But I can't stop it. Even though I would love it to stop. How much I was wanting and needing to tell the world that this haylor shit is just one big phony.
