One Direction Preferences

He Isn't Where He's Supposed To Be

Before you guys read this preferences is from tumble * I DO NOT TAKE ANY CREDIT FOR THIS *

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Harry: Panic had set in. Not for you though, you knew he would show. However, security and the planning staff were frantic. It was quite enjoyable to watch actually. You couldn’t help but smile when Paul approaches you for a second time. “Are you sure you have no idea where he is?” You shake your head. You honestly had no idea. Yes, he was supposed to be rehearsing for the biggest award show in music, but didn’t these people know him any better than this? “Call him again,” Paul instructs before walking away. Couldn’t they keep up with him any better than this? Calling him certainly wasn’t going to make him magically show up. You listen to a few rings before hanging up; leaving a voicemail would also be pointless. You get up from the seat you had taken out in the audience; it belonged to Jennifer Lopez, casual. None of the other guys had showed up to rehearse seeing as Harry wasn’t there. They saw no point, you didn’t either. You make your way back to the small dressing room they were given for their rehearsal time here at the venue. Four sets of eyes lock onto you as you walk in the space. You hold your hands up in innocence. You knew nothing. “Where is he?” Liam asks. “She doesn’t know, mate,” Zayn replies as you take a seat beside him on the leather couch. “He’ll show up. It isn’t like him to just ditch completely.” Were they sure about that? Your phone begins to vibrate in your hand and you turn over the screen slowly, hiding it from the sight of everyone else. You get up from the couch and walk out into the hallway, far enough away from the open door to where they couldn’t hear your conversation. “Hi,” you answer plainly. “So, um, I know I’m supposed to be there, but I’m not,” he begins. Was he serious right now? “You don’t say,” you reply dryly. “Well I need you to come and get me.” “Why? Where are you?” He sighs deeply, defeated, he had gotten himself into something. “I’m at the Nike store on Grove,” he answers. “Okay, and why do I need to come get you? You got there without me, why can’t you get back?” Another sigh comes across the line. “I can’t get out of the store.” “And why is that?” “They found me, the fans. There’s probably a hundred outside the door.” “You’re joking, right? There’s no way there’s that many people just crowding that area like that.” “Oh but there is. And I’m in the back office here. They let me stay back here while they got them settled down, but the problem is they haven’t settled.” “Harry this is ridiculous. Why haven’t they called the police or something?” “They have and I think they’re out there dealing with it now.” “Okay, well then you will be able to leave soon enough. That’s fine. They’ve already pushed back your rehearsal slot, so you have time.” They had no choice. “Well see that’s the thing,” he begins, pausing for dramatic effect you assumed. “I can’t leave.” “And why is that?” You were beginning to get annoyed with this entire situation. “My car got towed,” he reveals. It was your turn to sigh loudly into the phone. Of course. His luck was terrible like that. “I’m sorry,” he says knowing you were annoyed with him. “It’s fine, Harry. I’ll go get Paul and we will be over to get you soon.” “Thank you,” he replies softy. “Next time, please wander off on a less important day, will you?” He laughs lightly, “Deal.”    

 Liam: You had left the flat before he had even gotten out of bed. A morning coffee and donut run was necessary if Liam was going to have the day off today. Once out of the building you turn down the street to walk to get breakfast, no need to drive when you lived in the middle of the city. Fall was definitely here, the chill in the air was ever present and you quietly thanked your warm sweatshirt for doing its job. Once down the street a few blocks you step into the warmth of the coffee shop. You stopped in here every morning Liam was home, it had become a sort of tradition, or more like a routine. It just came natural to bring home something for him to wake up to seeing as cooking wasn’t exactly your forte. You are greeted by the bright smile of the girl behind the counter. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” she comments, “must be busy on your end.” “Yeah, he hasn’t been home in a while so I’ve just been staying in most mornings.” “Well we’re glad you got out, it’s great to see you. What can I get for you this morning?” You look at the display case off to the side, your eyes tracing over all of your options. “I know I want two coffees,” you insist, getting that out of the way as you continue to stare into the case. Before you can make any more decisions as to what Liam would most like for breakfast your phone begins to ring from your pocket. “Hello?” You answer, not expecting a phone call this early. “Hey, where’s Liam?” The Irish accent asks. Why was he calling? And why couldn’t he have just called Liam? “He’s at home,” you answer suspiciously. “Okay, well he needs to be at the studio. We’re recording today.” What? Liam had told you that today was his day off, with no mention of a recording studio anywhere in the foreseeable future. “He told me he had the day off today,” you reply, still not believing his bandmate, or at least not wanting to. “We have recording all week. Nine every morning.” You pull the phone from your ear to see the time; it was going on ten. You roll your eyes. Of course this was how the week was going to be. You had prepared for a free week with him, but somehow something always comes up. “I’m sorry,” Niall laments, sensing your disappointment. “It’s fine, I’ll go back and wake him up.” You end the call and slip the phone back into your pocket. “Just these this morning,” you say defeated, stepping back over to where your coffees sit. After paying you walk back out into the chilly air and make you way back to the flat. You sit the cups on the kitchen counter after having slipped off your shoes at the door. You walk up the stairs and into the bedroom. He was still asleep. Of course he was. “Liam,” you say, no need to be sweet. “Liam,” you repeat, your voice stern. A slight moan comes from the covers and movement follows. “Liam, get up.” You stand off to the side of the bed, your hands resting on your hips; the attitude was about to come out if he wasn’t careful. “Why?” He questions, his voice full of sleep. “Well I don’t know, maybe because you were supposed to be at the studio an hour ago?” “No I wasn’t. I have the week off.” “No, Niall called and you’re definitely supposed to be at the studio, all week in fact, nine in the morning every day.” You walk over to the window, pushing the curtains aside to help speed up this process. More groans come from the bed as the light spills in. “Get up. You’ve made them wait long enough.” You walk out of the room, ready to begin another week without him.