I Should've Known

Chapter Thirteen - Decoy.

Chapter Thirteen: Decoy.

(A day before Ed’s birthday – February 16th)

“Harry? It’s me, Stu.”

“Stu? As in, Stuart Camp? Ed’s manager?”

“You bet. Anyway, listen up, lad. I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Shoot. I’m listening.”

“You do know that it’s Ed’s birthday tomorrow, right?”

“Well, of course, I do. I was planning to greet him and—”

“Just let me finish first, alright? I don’t have time. Ed’s gonna be here any minute now.”

“Uh, Stuart, are you planning to do a little surprise for his birthday?”

“That’s right. And I’m gonna need your help, young man.”

Harry could still remember his conversation with Stuart. His words kept on running in his head, over and over again. The brunet couldn’t help but smile as he replayed their phone call, especially when Stuart had told him to do something that he had always wanted to do.

“You’re already friends with Taylor Swift, right?”

Not really, but I like where this conversation is going. “I guess so. I’m a tad bit sure that she’s gotten over the whole breakup thing as much as I have. No more hard feelings, I suppose. But why did you ask?”

“I just want you to find a way so that she would come here in England to see Ed on his birthday gig.”

“Wait, so you’re saying that I should persuade her in going to England? But she’ll be going there in a heartbeat, with no second thoughts!”

“Yes, that’s true, but I want you to look for a way that she wouldn’t know that she’ll be coming here. Not even Ed knows—they’re clueless for this.”

“So are you telling me that I should kidnap her?”

“If that’s the only way, then do it. But no monkey business, please, Mr Styles.”

Oh, you have no idea what I’m capable of. “You can count on me, Stuart.”

Smirking, Harry grabbed the remote control and switched the telly off. He then flicked through the contact numbers on his mobile phone and pressed a number and waited for his call to be answered. The guy on the other line answered his phone after three rings.

“What’s up, Harry?”

The brunet leaned back on his sofa and propped his feet up on the coffee table in front of him, a huge smile still present on his lips. “Are you free tomorrow?”

“You’re not asking me on a date, are you, man?”

He snorted in derision, cursing out loudly. “Fuck off. That’s fucking mental, man. I’m not bloody gay.”

“But you asked me if—”

“I know what I asked you, but that doesn’t mean that you have to question my sexuality. That’s fucking twisted and a whole lot of bullshit—”

“What do you want, Styles? I have a date with my girlfriend,” the guy interrupted, cutting him off.

He rolled his eyes as he picked up the glass of brandy from the coffee table and sipped from it before replying, “I just need someone to help me out on something.”