White Board Lyrics (Harry Styles)

Chapter 8

 (Harry's POV)

 

There are other things in my life that I would rather be doing instead of having a meeting with management. Anything they say to us will end up with us either doing an interview and a show on some talk show, or making a public appearance somewhere. We already made the public appearance and see where that got us.

I cringed slightly when Niall popped my wheelchair into a wheelie. It hit the ground hard and shot pain up my leg, but I bit my lip and dealt with it. Paul must have seen my discomfort because he took over the duties of rolling me around. My white board was in my lap and I tapped my fingers over it to the beat of one of our songs. I tried to hum the tune, but the reverberations it caused in my ears hurt too much. I sighed and shoved the white board between my thigh and the side of the chair. I adjusted my hat over my ears just in case some paparazzi made their way into the building and was secretly snapping photo’s of us. It already looked bad with me in a wheelchair, but hey, crutches hurt my armpits.

I turned to look at Louis who looked especially nervous. We had had a couple meetings with management about our friendship ending up with ‘we need to tone it down.’ Really, there was nothing to tone down since all we were being was best mates. I grumbled and Louis caught it. He gave me a small smile and held the door open for Paul to wheel me through to the main part of the building where a receptionist met us. Her eyes widened as she saw the states we were in. Compared to the rest of the guys, I must have looked like hell, although they looked pretty rough as well.

Liam’s black eyes from his broken nose were dutifully covered up with some makeup Danielle had applied, but you could still see how tired he looked. He also kept grabbing his shoulder, which we all knew was still bothering him. The cut on Louis’ forehead was healing, but the bruises still looked a bit nasty. He didn’t even bother with any sort of makeup. He only brushed his hand over the cut in hopes of hiding it. Zayn and Niall looked overall okay, maybe a little tired, but no obvious injuries. I never asked them how they felt, which made me feel bad since they were always helping me out and asking if I was okay. I really needed to be a better friend.

We stayed in the office lobby for some time as the receptionist disappeared and then came back to show us to the meeting room. It was a typical conference room. One side of the room was completely windows. There was a large long table in the center of the room with office chairs lined around it. The boys sat down and didn’t move. Usually they would be bumping into each other, but this was serious. They sat in silence, their mouths not moving an inch.  Paul sat in the seat next to me and grabbed my shoulder. I looked over to him and he gave me a reassuring smile. His smiled spread across the whole room and everyone felt at ease. I pulled out my white board to ask a question, but an over enthusiastic guy in a expensive looking suit burst into the room and looked like he was talking loudly. He didn’t look like anyone we knew from management which led me to believe he was just there to convey the message from management themselves. I groaned and laid my head against the tabletop. This was going to be hard to keep up with.

It was a good thing he had a presentation. It was a little ridiculous, but still good. It involved some interviews and some dates that we had to keep in mind. I groaned again, one of the interviews was a week from that day. I raised my hand and cleared my throat. I was going to try speaking, but Paul motioned to my white board. He knew it was hard for me to relay my thoughts into words with the lack of my sense of hearing.