Hide and Seek (not continuing)

Chapter 9 - Not Doing Anything

*unedited*

[Harry.]

After I had said goodbye to Camille, I walked into the lobby, letting the heavy glass doors shut behind me. I looked around the enormous place while I walked to the check-in desk. Behind it stood a lady in her fourties with a tight bun and a dark red blazer.

“Good afternoon, Sir. Can I help you?” she said in a cheery voice.

“Good afternoon. Yes, could I speak with your manager, Mr. Johnsson? We have talked a few times on the phone last week. I had told him I’d come today.”

The lady nodded and picked up the phone on the counter. She pushed a few buttons and then held the phone to her ear. “Hello, Mr. Johnsson. I have a guest here who wants to talk with you. He said he had spoken with you on the phone last week.” The person on the other line said something back and the lady looked at me “Can I have your name, Sir?” I just gave her a small smile and said that the manager knew who I was. She passed the exact same words to Mr. Johnsson. Just seconds later she put the phone down and said to me that he’d meet me in a few minutes.

Three minutes later a grey-haired man walked into the lobby. He stepped towards the black leather couch I was sitting on. I immediately stood up to shake Mr. Johnsson’s hand. “Welcome, Mr. Styles.” he said in a kind but firm voice. “I’ve just done the checkup and I’ve made sure everything was ready for your arrival.” I nodded. I have had several conversations with Mr. Johnsson before I decided to rent a suite here. A lot of important people – mostly bussiness men and politicians, apparently I was the first ‘celebrity’, as Mr. Johnsson called it – haved stayed here in the past, so the staff knows how to handle the guests’ information with descretion. They also know if someone accidently lets something slip, there will be consequences. That was the main reason why I had chosen this hotel; nobody would know I was staying here. And since most guests arrive in the summer season, I don’t have to worry a lot about the other people staying here, because there aren’t many. “Shall I accompany you to your suite?” he said while loosening his hand and gesturing me to follow him, which I did.

My room was on the eigth floor of the hotel. After opening the dark mahogany door, I entered the large space that would be my residence for the following two months. I looked around the suite, it could easily pass for an apartment. Where I was standing now would be the living room. It was a very light space, considering the entire ‘wall’ in front of me was made of large windows that reached up to the ceiling and down to the floor, providing a beautiful view on the city of Antwerp. I could even see the cathedral from here. A plasma screen television was hanging on the right wall, surrounded by two white leather sofas, with in the middle a bright red carpet and a coffee table. Between the left wall and the couches was a small table, but just big enough for two or three people to sit around it. On the left were the doors to the bedroom and the bathroom. The only thing missing to complete ‘my appartment’ was a kitchen, but I would probably be eating on the in the hotel restaurant, or order room service when I’m not feeling like going out of my room.

As Mr. Johnsson left, I thanked him for the nice and clean suite before closing the mahogany doors again and starting to unpack. I walked into the bedroom, which was – just like the rest of the suite – a mix of modern and vintage. I didn’t bring a lot of stuff, so unpacking was an easy job. Next, I took a quick shower to relax from today.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in simple sweat pants and a black t-shirt, into the living room, I saw that it was already dark outside. I checked the time on my phone; 5.30 pm – nearly time for dinner. I decided that I was too tired to go downstairs to eat, so I took the phone that was standing on one of those tiny little tables that were apparently overly present in all the rooms, called roomservice and asked if they could bring me a pizza. I put the phone down, walked to the couches, I sat down on one of them and put the tv on. I went from channel to channel but the majority of them were in Dutch, a language I obviously didn’t understand. After going through nearly thirty of them, I got to the BBC. I watched the news until I heard a few knocks on my door. “Roomservice, dinner for Mr. Styles.” I walked over to the door and opened it to be greeted by a tiny lady dressed in a red uniform. I thanked her for the pizza and walked back to the couches. I decided that this would be a lazy night for me, I would just watch tv until I fell asleep. Tonight I wouldn’t worry about paps, magazines, Kendall… All the pressure from the past three years had almost gotten me to the point of losing myself. That’s why I had left, that’s why I came here. That why I wasn’t going to do shit tonight. I needed rest.

But then my phone vibrated again. I took it off the coffee table in front of me, where I had apparently left it.

Kendall – Harry, why are you not answering my texts?

I groaned. She had been sending me messages since this morning, asking if we could hang out since she was in London for some kind of photoshoot. Little did she know that I wasn’t in London right now. So that’s why I didn’t really know how to reply. Not even my family knew exactly where I was, so why would I tell her? I don’t know, perhaps because you guys are kind of seeing each other? I ignored my subconscious. Another reason why I didn’t really reply was because I might have been avoiding her for a while and I know she’s not happy about it. We’re just in a difficult situation right now and I still wasn't not sure what to do.

Not wanting to deal with this right now, I put my phone away, going back to the first plans I had for tonight: not doing anything.

[A/N.]

Hi! I'm back! My exams are almost finished, but I had this chapter ready so I thought I'd update :)

It's a filler chapter, but it has some hints about the 'Hendall' situation.

Enjoy, vote, and comment! :)

xo K.