My Nine Brothers~ One Direction & 5sos & Harry Potter

91. Shooting Star Part 2

"This place is a dump," I looked around the small flat as Harry opened the door. It was literally one room with a mattress on the floor. Food wrappers were spread around the whole of it and the kitchen sink was pilled with dirty dishes. "What happened to your mansions?"

"Sold them all," Harry shrugged his shoulders as he threw his keys onto the dresser next to the door. "Who needs them anyways."

"Well no one, but you could have gone for a nicer place," I mumbled.

"Look, great seeing you Hope, but your good to leave now," Harry told me as he sat down on his bed. He took his shoes off as he laid back. "I'm sober now and don't really fancy seeing you."

"Tough shit," I kicked his feet as he let out a groan. "I was serious Harry, I want to make things right. With everyone. And you seem to be the one that I needed to go to first."

"And why's that?" Harry opened one eye as he looked up at me.

"I was doing an interview with Nick and realized I was a prat and since you were good friends with him, decided to start there," I explained to him.

"How is good old Nick, haven't seen him in ages," Harry let out a small laugh. "Last time we hung out, he was dragging me away from a bar fight."

"That may be why you're not on his show anymore," I said.

"Pretty sure its because of not releasing anything in years," Harry said.

"Yeah, about that, why haven't you released anything since 1D?" I asked.

"Because some of us just don't pretend the world is all rainbows and unicorns like you do," Harry rolled his eyes at me.

"I'm going to ignore that comment, and offer you a razer instead to shave that horrendous beard off of your face," I told him.

"No, then people would spot me more," Harry narrowed his eyes at me. "And I hate that."

"You once told me that just a simple interaction with someone you don't know can give them more joy then you will ever understand," I crossed my arms over my chest. "You said those words when I was scared to face the people that were there cheering for you. You took the time to learn everyone in the room's name and shake their hands, you took the time to stop and talk to random fans on the street. So don't tell me you hate making people smile."

Harry pretended to weight the two back in forth in his hands. "Yeah, I do. Why do they get to smile and I don't?"

"Because you are making it harder on yourself to smile," I told him. "Bad shit happens Harry, and we have to come out of it stronger."

"Or richer like you did," Harry mumbled.

"Harry Edward Stylinson stop being an arse!" I threw a pillow at him. "I'm trying to actually help and heal whatever the fuck this is and you're acting like its just a joke!"

"Alright, calm down peanut," Harry took the pillow as he threw it behind him. He patted the spot next to him. "Sit down."

"You're not going to kill me?" I asked him while taking a seat.

"Not yet," He smirked at me.

"Great, if you do it can you just make it fast," I pushed my hair out of my face before I rested my elbows on my knees. "I just want all this to be over."

"What to be over?" Harry furrowed his brows in confusion as he looked at me.

"This," I gestured to us. "Our family drama or whatever. I don't like it, I hate it that this is how we are. And most importantly, I fucking don't want to be a singer."