Harry: “Babe?” Harry shouts from upstairs, buttoning his shirt. “Yeah?” you call, sweeping the last bit of makeup across your face as you both prepare to get ready for your romantic dinner with your husband. “Where’s Angelica?” he asks, fixing his blazer as he walks down the steps of your home. “She’s out with friends, why?” you ask, walking towards him as you brush your hair. “She left her phone.” he mumbles, holding it up. “She probably just forgot it, Harry.” you reply. A few minutes later you’re both en route to your dinner, driving past a large group of clearly underage children drinking and smoking around a bonfire, when you spot a familiar head of ginger curls. “Oh my God, Harry, is that Angelica?!” you exclaim, Harry immediately stopping the car to a halt. You push the door open, running towards the girl. “ANGELICA MARIE STYLES!” you scream and her head snaps around. “Oh fuck.” she mumbles, the fifteenth year old’s head snapping around. “MILF!” one of the younger boys yell. You roll your eyes and grab Angelica’s arm, dragging her back to the car. “Mum, I’m sorr—” “We’ll talk when we get home.” you cut her off, your voice full of anger and disappointment.
Liam: You set your glass of wine down on the table, leaving the room for a second, just to go check on Ashton. These past few days have been so stressful on both you and Liam, both of you having severe arguments and marital problems. Once you get to your room, you see your twelve year old son sitting on the bed, shaking. “Ash, what’s wrong?” you mumble, sitting down beside him. “Everything!” he shouts, and now you can smell it. There’s nothing but alcohol on his breath, the smell sickening. “Ashton, have you been drinking?!” you exclaim, eyes wide. “Yeah, I have! You and dad do noshing but argue and threaten to leave! How is that supposhed to make me feel!?” he slurs, words coming out wrong. “Go to sleep, Ashton, we’ll talk in the morning.” you roll your eyes, not wanting to hear any excuses from him. “Yeah, mum, go get drunk!!!” he shouts as loud as possible. You sit against his bedroom door, sliding down it, tears streaming down your face.
Niall: Eliza waves goodbye to the both of you as you drive off, ready to leave on your romantic weekend with Niall. You decided with each other that your sixteen year old was old enough to be able to stay at home by herself for a weekend. As you and Niall are halfway to the train station you realize that you’d left your purse at home. “Shit, Niall, turn around.” you groan. Niall laughs, “You’re lucky our train doesn’t leave for another two hours.” he turns the car around and drives back home. Once you arrive home, the front of your house is not the same way it was left. There’s plastic cups all over the front yard, toilet paper strewn everywhere. “What the fuck is going on…” Niall mumbles as both of you get out of the car, practically running into the house. You grab a random boy, “Where’s Eliza?” you ask quickly to the intoxicated teen. “Which one?” he mumbles, stumbling. “Eliza Horan!” Niall shouts, his patience running out. “Ober there.” he slurs, pointing to where a group of teens shout ‘chug’ repeatedly to your daughter who is currently chugging a bottle of raw vodka. “ELIZA!” Niall shouts at the top of his voice. Eliza drops the bottle, the glass not smashing. “EVERYBODY OUT, NOW!!” You scream, the place immediately clearing out. “Mum, dad I can explain!” she tries quick to defend herself. “No, Eliza, I don’t want to hear it.” you mutter, rubbing your index and middle finger to each temple. “Clean this up, now.” Niall mumbles coldly, walking away. He wraps his arm around your waist, taking you to bed.
Louis: You have all your girlfriends over, all of you having a drink, Louis feeling so out of place with a pint of beer sitting in between you and your best friend. “Where’s that bottle of champagne I brought, Y/N?” Lilian asks, her glass now empty. “I’ll go get it.” you chuckle, getting off your seat. “I’ll come too.” Louis responds, wanting any excuse to leave a room full of women. You walk into the room with Lilian’s glass, and squeal as you catch glimpse of your seven year old Marnie, chugging the bottle champagne, clearly not having a clue what it is. “Marnie!” Louis shouts, grabbing the bottle from her small hands. “What, daddy?” she mumbles a small burp following. “Get everyone to leave, I’ll put her to bed.” Louis sighs, both of you feeling stupid and lousy for letting your child get near alcohol.
Zayn: “Jake’s been quiet tonight.” you mumble, wondering why he was so mute tonight, usually he was loud with his music, his friends or his mouth in general. “I think he’s revising, he’s got an exam next week.” Zayn replies, his eyes glued to the screen. “I’m gonna go check on him.” you say, getting up from your seat. You walk upstairs, heading for his room. You knock the door twice before opening it to where he sits with his two best friends, beer bottles strewn on the floor, a vodka bottle in the fourteen year old’s hand. “What the fuck are you doing?” you ask, trying not to get too angry in front of his friends. “Zayn, come here!” you shout down the stairs. Zayn isn’t long before he’s with you, witnessing what you needed him for. “Call Andrew and Shawn’s parents.” you tell him calmly. “Jake, we need to talk.”
