From Fame To Blame ∞ l.s

Chapter Twenty Eight

"Harry. Harry!" A female voice said.

"Harry, love. You fell asleep!" And again.

"Harry, One Direction are dead. They've broken apart."

That's where Harry woke up.

Harry clumsily rolled over and landed face-first onto the wooden floor. He huffed a little before he pushed himself up again, brushing off some dust and whatnot, before his eyes widens again.

"Excuse me? What did you say, mum?" Harry cooed, scratching the back of his neck as he walks towards the door.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted to wake you up." Harry's mother, Anne, laughed before Harry could hear her footsteps down the hallway.

Harry blinked and grinned, because later today, he'll be seeing Louis-fookin-Tomlinson. The boy he's been chatting with for almost four weeks!

"Mum! What's the time?" Harry yelled to his mum.

"It's-" Some seconds went on, "Four. Why do you ask, lovely?"

"Oh, nothing. But I need to get ready! Would you like to make me something refreshing, mum?" Harry strolled down the narrow hallway to his own bathroom and opened the door and locked it once he was in, he then went to turn the shower head on and strip himself off of clothes.

While Harry was showering his mum casually walked around their household, a mug of coffee in her left hand. If Harry wasn't showering, he'd hear her whistling. Anne walked up the stairs, careful not to let any of the warm liquid hit her hand. She'd walk down the hallway to his bathroom door, knocking lightly on it. "Harry, I've made you some coffee." She smiled, though knowing Harry couldn't possibly see it.

"Thank you, mum. Lemme just-" Anne heard the shower head turn off and her son walking towards the door, he'd twirl the key, unlocking the door and opens it for her. She quickly put her right hand up infront of her eyes.

"Harry, please take some clothes on." She snickered lightly.

"Oh-oh. I didn't even notice." Harry joined her snickering. "Be right back," Harry closed the door in her head, Anne pouted at that. Harry quickly spun around and grasped his hand around a nearby towel and wrapped it around his waist loosely, nodding and smiling to himself after. "There we go, mum."

"Just take the damn coffee, Harry." She laughed again, waiting for Harry to open the door.

Harry wiggled the knob and opened the door, grabbing the mug and thanked his mother. He'd then go to his own room, placing the mug on his desktop, just beside his computer. He thought about texting to Louis that he's almost ready, but he couldn't be arsed. He quickly unwrapped the towel off of his waist and grabbed some boxers from his drawer, putting them on. He walks to his large-sized mirror, standing right infront of it, eyeing himself up and down and raises an eyebrow.

"White jeans, white jeans, white jeans, white jeans. Where the fook are they?" Harry looked confusedly around his room, not knowing where his pants are, "Mum! Have you seen my white jeans?"

"Check under the pile of clothes beside your bed, mum's boy!" Harry could literally hear her giggling like a schoolgirl just then.

But, much to Harry's dismay, his jeans weren't under the pile of clothes, Harry jolted his lower lip out in clear sadness. "Ugh, this is not my day," Harry flickered his eyes to every corner of his room. Then he remembered, "That fookin bastard." He quickly threw his pillow away and grabbed his phone, (The phone was under the pillow), and dialed a number.

"Hey, Harry." The voice said.

"Hey, hi. Do you still have my white jeans?" Harry calmly asked, running a hand through his almost dry hair.