Events || Harry Styles

013

[I chose this gif bc all 4 are in this chapter <3]

To those who got a notification for this chapter a few hours ago, I'd accidentally published this unfinished! So, of course, I deleted it right away, but the notification still went out. This is the actual chapter!! I hope you enjoy 💟

// I saw Halsey 2 days ago and I still haven't recovered from PCD. If you want, I can tweet videos later on my account on Twitter (@wtvrharold) 😈👑

Norah

"I'm so fucking confused. Why did I even agree to this?"

"Okay, where are you?"

"You already asked me that, and it didn't help at all. I ended up back at the fucking gate."

"There's no need to curse, Nor."

"I need to find a taxi," I whine.

I was in a foreign country that not only doesn't particularly like me, but also drives on the other side of the road. Why this country doesn't like me? I've seemed to have the worst luck since I'd gotten here.

To sum it all up: my bags got lost, but luckily they were found an hour later, I was stuck with a crying baby next to me the entire ride here, and as soon as I walked off the plane, some woman was dead set on fighting me.

I have no idea why she wanted to. I guess I was too busy trying to find the baggage claim, that I didn't say sorry after she ran into me. She yelled at me and I swear I thought I was going to get in my first fight right then and there.

"Ask someone," Harry suggests for the fifth time.

"I already did, and they just gave me a weird look. Do people here hate Americans?"

"I don't hate Americans."

"You really aren't helpful at all."

I spin around again, my luggage turning over on itself. I look down and kick it back over. Today was really going horribly. What time is it anyways? 8 in the morning? I'd had like three coffees on the plane ride.

"How did you even get lost? There are signs everywhere once you get off the plane," Harry chuckles.

"I went to the ladies room, and turned the wrong way getting out. I'm sorry I'm not directionally gifted."

His melodic laughs sounds again in my ear. "Is there anything I can really do to help you?"

I huffed loudly and did another 360 of my surroundings. I was in the middle of a flurry of gates and anxious British people. There were little food places and bathroom signs. I noticed a sign pointing to the right with the word "Security" on it, but I saw nothing with "Baggage claim".

Damn, why couldn't there have been a sign saying "exit". It's not that complicated.

"Not really anymore," I admit.

"I'll stay on the phone till you find a taxi if it makes you feel any better," he muses.

I contemplate his offer for a few seconds, but I decided that I didn't want to keep him waiting. "No, it's fine. I'll find my way soon enough. If I'm not at your hotel in an hour, please call a search and rescue party."

He laughs. "Will do, Nor."

I hang up and put my phone in my back pocket, my army green utility jacket covering it, prohibiting anyone from taking it. I wasn't familiar about the theft crime rates around here.

I started to try and retrace my steps by heading to the bathroom that caused me to get lost in the first place. This time, instead of turning right, I turned left.