So, What? // 1D AU ✓

Chapter 8

~I got my rock moves,

And I don't need you~

The three of them were silent as they exited the club and started walking down the road. Niall was pissed at being considered part of the "riff raff", Liam was taking the tampons out of his nostrils to try and see if the bleeding had slowed - newsflash, it hadn't, and Harry was freaking out in his head about the opportunity he had just received from someone who had the same last name as a condiment.

"Okay, where the fuck are we going?" Niall finally asked, putting his hands on his hips when they ended up in a Walgreens parking lot.

Liam sat down on a curb, feeling a little woozy without the energy of the club supporting him and keeping him up. "Well, I hope wherever it is has food."

Harry's eyes were glassed over and he swayed to music in his head, perfectly content to not focus until Niall shook him. "What? What?"

He sighed, then fixed his hair for the seventieth time that night. "The fact of the matter is, since now you're going to sing at a club in two hours, we're going to have to put the investigation for your husband on hold."

"That's fine with me," Harry's smile lit up his entire face. Then he turned slightly green as Liam fidgeted with the left tampon and blood fell onto the pavement. "But what do we do for two hours? This is my big night, I'm not spending any more of it in this parking lot."

"So, we can't find Cole and have you fight him in the next two hours?" Liam asked, his voice still pretty nasally. "Because that's the optimal solution."

"He's not returning my calls, angry voicemails, or text messages," Harry adjusted the bandana in his hair and pulled the lipstick out of the cross body bag. "So, I really don't fucking know what to do. And what are things going to be like in the morning? When this is all over? Am I going to be me? This singer who wears makeup, or am I going to be the drab interior designer who represses his emotions?"

"Well, is it realistic for you to leave your husband?" Liam asked. "For him to leave the house and for paperwork to be filed?" He was thinking about things from a very grounded standpoint, which Harry appreciated. There was a need for someone rational on this crazy night.

Harry sat next to him on the curb, while Niall fidgeting, looking down on them. He wanted immediate action of some sort, but there needed to be a moment of reflection so that they could move forward. After thinking some things through for a moment, Harry answered. "It's my only option, at this point. Here's my plan. Fight him, rip his dick off, go home, burn his clothes, and kick him out."

"Well, whose name is the house under?" Liam questioned, once again asking the right questions.

"Ok, so I'll find a hotel. Know any good ones?" Feeling truly desperate, Harry scrunched his face up as tears started to run. The technicalities bothered him, and made all of these emotional and mental changes that he was going through seems insignificant.

Niall grabbed his hands and pulled him off of the curb, beckoning Liam along too. "Ok, we're not crying. We're not crying, guys!" He silently led the group across the street to a nearly empty strip club. Niall's greedy hands grabbed Harry's credit card and paid the entrance fee for the three of them.

"I'm gay!" Harry cried. "And I'm married!"

Desperate to spike moral among the company, Niall led them to a grouping of three chairs, right in front of lone stripper with no audience. She began increasing her dance moves, and wasn't turned off by Harry loudly sobbing for the thousandth time that night.

Liam made a face at Niall, shrugged, and then started watching the show because he wasn't one to comfort people. That was the bartender's issue tonight.

Niall shifted in the seat while Harry fumbled for his inhaler. Then he decided that well, you only live once, and he stepped up on the stage with the stripper. He reached for the pole, and she faltered uncertainty, looking towards the camera. "My friend's upset, let me try to do something funny for him."

Unhappy, the stripper got off of the stage and sat in Niall's chair. Meanwhile, on the stage, Niall took off his jacket and threw it at Liam, who scrunched his face up and then laughed. Thus began the cringiest stripper routine ever. Soon, Harry was choking on his tears while watching Niall doing a terrible lip-sync to Thank U, Next.

He was down to just wearing pants, and his sweaty feet slid across the stage very frequently, giving him the appearance of slipping. Harry was holding his shoe in one hand and his inhaler in the other, laughing frantically while security guards started approaching.

"Grab your shit, Niall! It's time to go!" Niall scrambled off of the stage, and the stripper rushed to kiss him on the cheek and whisper something in his ear before they were running down the long hallway, out the door, and down the road.

"That was random, but very much enjoyed," Liam was smiling ear to ear, and he couldn't remember the last time he had had that much serotonin flooding through his veins.

"I enjoy being random," Niall was very pleased with himself, and the group stopped for a brief moment to let him put his clothes back on. "I'm sure if I was in front of a large group, they would have all been clapping for me like they did at the club for you, Harry."

"Ooh, a little narcissist." Harry mocked, not hiding his gaze at Niall's abs. He wasn't attracted to Niall and his big mouth, but he was like really gay.

"Oh yeah, like you're not. Mr. Lemme Sing One Song. Buy me my own bar when you're rich." Liam started giggling uncontrollably. Harry wiped his tears and started to google the address of the fancy club he would be singing at in less than two hours.

"We could probably just get a bus and see what's in the area, have some more adventures in the meantime." Harry shut his phone off, rolling his eyes at the empty messages.

Liam took the business card from his hands and his eyes lit up with recognition at the address. "There's a gay bar near there. Wanna see a drag show?"

(Big Time Rush intro plays.)