"So Harry fucking Styles has been living in your building for what? 2 months now? And you have not said a single word to him?!" Alexandra asked, eyebrows furrowed.
"He is unbelievably fucking perfect. And famous. And rich. Make a move!" Rebecca continued, throwing her arms up in the air.
"Exactly. He's too perfect. It's not human!" I retaliate, flicking the channels on my TV.
"But I want Niallllllllll." Rebecca whined, throwing her head back onto my pillow.
"Too innocent! Zayn on the other hand...." Alexandra continued.
"Oh my god." I groaned, running my fingers through my hair.
"They're all very hot. Very famous. And they all like girls very very much. Blah. Too much for me." I say with a automatic shrug.
"YOU SAY THAT LIKE IT'S A BAD THING???" Becca shrieks, throwing the pillow onto me now.
"Why are we even discussing this?! They're a world famous boyband?!" I demand, looking increduously at them.
"A very hot famous boyband who are always in your building!" Alex says, rolling her eyes.
I laugh, rolling my eyes mockingly back at her. "I'm going to make pizza. Next subject."
"How much were your shorts? And pass me the vodkaaaaa!" Becca asks Alex, both of them wondering into the next usual topic. Boybands, clothes, boys and booze. The life of three 19 year old girls.
A banging headache. Two screaming girls finally left my apartment. No food. No drink. I was skint.
My arm wafted around lazily, reaching for my sunglasses. Yes. I was going to go downstairs, with sunglasses on.
I scraped my brown hair back and shoved a hoodie on, throwing my hood up. Tracksuit bottoms tucked into slippers. Who really gives a fuck when you're hungover?
I walked into the lift, resting my head on the side of it, already going dizzy. I hate lifts. I was terrified. But I was also too lazy to walk down a few flights of stairs. A lose or lose suitation. I think life hates me.
I walked to the front desk, the smartly dressed woman behind the desk immediatly raising her eyebrows at my appearance.
"Um hi." I squeaked. "Could I um, have like the usual english breakfast. But oh, could I have two extra hashbrowns put on? And a jug of fresh orange juice? Too um Floor 13 room 30." I say.
"Number?" She asks boredly.
"El! You didn't have too come down in sunglasses you absolute banana." Someone says into my ear, wrapping their arms around my waist.
I freeze, my cheeks turning a bright red as the lady's eyebrows raise higher than I'd ever seen them go. And that's very high.
"And add another two extra hashbrowns to that order!" He says cheekily.
My hands immediatly land on his, which are wrapped around my waist, following on to throwing them to his sides.
I whip around, mouth wide open ready to rant. Until my eyes land on who it is. Fucking Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik and Harry fucking Styles. Standing there. Looking utterly shit fucking perfect. They stare at me for a moment, Louis' eyes widening more and more, until Harry lets out a loud laugh.
My cheeks blaze red and I whip back around to the woman behind the desk. "Um, yeah, cancel them last two hashbrowns he just put in...." I say as calmly as I can. "But keep the other two extra hashbrows I added in." I add quickly.
Her eyebrows raise again, her eyes looking boringly at me. "Right. So what do you want now? Could you repeat the order?"
I clear my throat, silently cursing the fucking gorgeous band members behind me. "That's an English breakfast, but ontop of the usual hashbrowns add two more in. And oh, a jug of fresh orange juice. And maybe a vodka." I mumble. She looks at me increduosly as the fucking band members behind me chuckle.
"Joke. Joke. I'll stick with the orange juice! Oh and floor 13, room 30." I say quickly, handing her my credit card. She swipes it with a sigh.
She hands me the credit card again. "It should be up in 10 minutes." She adds. I thank her quickly, turning back around, all three boys eyes still on me.
My cheeks blaze again, and I am silently thanking the lord that they can't actually see my face properly. Or my hair. Or me.
"I am so sorry, I thought you were my girlfriend because she's also hungover and looking like that and also hungry so I just assumed you were her, and anyways I'm so sorry!" Louis says in a rush.
I look at him, my mouth turning into a thin line. "Are you insulting me? I'm not hungover? This is how I like too look."
His cheeks redden and Harry and Zayn snigger beside him.
My lips form into a smirk, and I hold my hands up. "Kidding. I was mortal lastnight."
His shoulders relax and Harry and Zayn laugh again, hi-fiving eachother. I take a shaky breath as I watch them all. I just made a fucking joke infront of the worlds famous boyband who I basically love and I'm hungover to fuck.
"Anywaaaaays... better go, um, wait for food." I say, smiling awkwardly.
"Wait do you live in this building?" Harry asks curiously.
"Um, y-yeah. Y-you probablys h-haven't seen me b-because I-I live on the t-thirteenth floor and you l-live all the w-way on t-the top f-floor." I stammer ridiculously, my cheeks reddening as I realised I'd just admitted I knew where Harry stayed.
"Ok welllllll I'm going now, bye!" I say hurriedly, turning quickly, closing my eyes, my breathing shortened.
Well. 100 points to you Jess for making an absolute tit of yourself. I can finally say I have interacted with Harry Styles. You fucking bellend Jessica.
