Rory Tomlinson's landed her dream internship for the summer working at the biggest nonprofit PR firm in London. It's shaping up to be a great summer until her boss tells her that she single handedly needs to get One Direction to reform for a benefit...
A week later I sit in a pub with Niall at midday, nursing a couple of beers and sharing a plate of chips. Well, it's Niall so basically Niall is eating chips, and I'm watching. I plaster a candid looking smile on my face as some nearby people snap pictures of us as if we were sculptures not human beings.
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I stare at Niall as he inhales his chips, but my mind is somewhere else–where it always is these days.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Niall asks without even looking up from the plate. I blink out of my daze, and he comes back into focus.
"Like what?"
"Like there is something you're not telling me," he responds. He takes a gulp of his beer and looks at me with his big blue eyes. I shrug my shoulders.
"Nothing I can think of," I say and break eye contact while going in for a chip. Niall grabs my wrist with his clammy hand before I can snatch one. Niall gives a scoff of disapproval.
"Not until you tell me what's up," Niall says.
"Nothing is up."
"Yes, it is."
"No, it isn't."
"What did he do?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Niall sighs and shakes his head, knowing me much better than I'm giving him credit for.
"Fine," he finally says and slides the plate of chips over to me. The metal plate squeals against the old wooden table.
"Thanks, Ni," I say and shoot him a toothy smile before biting into the semi-cold fry. Niall shakes his head again and throws back the content of his mug which is mostly foam at this point.
"Wanna get out of here?"
I shake my head in response, grabbing another chip for the road and slinging my silver purse over my shoulder at the same time. Niall grabs my mug and finishes my drink before dropping a couple pounds on the table. A few of the younger people in the pub gape at us as we walk by but we get out relatively unbothered. Outside is a different story. There are at least 10 photographers waiting for us as soon as we step out.
Niall instinctively throws his arm around my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around his waist. The photographers start talking to us, but I've mostly learned to tune them out by now. Years of practice. Niall is one of the better boys to walk in front of paparazzi with because he's so calm. If I'm with Louis and someone even looks at me wrong, I swear he almost pulls a Britney circa 2008 on them. Harry would always act like he loved the attention when we were out in public and then apologize for 15 minutes after we got in private because he felt so bad I have to deal with all the unwanted attention.
