The One With The Nerd || Larry Stylinson

Chapter 4: Return of the Jedi

Guess who's back, back again. I am back, tell a fren (seriously though). I don't know what I'm doing with these chapter names btw.. but it kinda works..?

"Hey."

I looked up to my left, quickly ceasing my writing and closing my book, to see Niall sitting down in the chair next to me. He smiled at me and held out his hand. I took it.

"Marcel, right?" I nodded, "I'm Niall."

Of course I already knew that, but I'll just pretend I didn't because I don't wanna seem too creepy. So I settled with a small 'hey Niall'.

As the lesson progressed, Niall and I started working on our song together (different to the previous one I was working on). Ashton was away today, so Niall and I exchanged numbers so we could work on it after school and hopefully finish it before next Monday, because we don't have music again until then.

Our song is progressing rather well, Niall's been working on the lyrics, I did offer to help because they can be hard, and I was writing the melody for the words. Niall asked for my help every once in a while, stuck on words, but we managed, other than that we didn't talk much. Once the bell had gone, Niall and I each went our separate ways towards our last period class, which just so happened to be History. Yay.

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I had a show later that night. Just a small one to get me back into the rush and the pressure of performing, as I hadn't done many in the past few months. My management and the crew thought it would be best if we started doing little concerts here and there to get us back on track and ready for the tour we will be going on towards the end of the year. I think that will make it my third world tour since I started out a few years back. And I still need to get a whole album out before then. It's nerve-racking how fast the time goes. A lot of the time it's just all too much.

Once I'd arrived at the venue, it was quite a small arena with an even smaller stage and located not too far from town, I was immediately rushed to do vocal warm ups and last minute sound checks. It was all quite hectic, as I was running a little late, and the crew weren't too happy so I just took what they threw at me and tried not to buckle under the pressure.

"Harry, what in the world do you think you're doing?!"

I frowned at my stylist, switching my gaze between her enraged face and the TV screen. Isn't it obvious what I'm doing?

"I'm playing FIFA." I chuckled, as she crossed her arms. "The stress got too much for me!" I wailed dramatically, resting my head back against the armrest of the lounge.

"You're stressed? You haven't lifted a finger since you've been here!" She exasperated, sneekily snagging the gaming controller right from my grip.

I let out a whine and made grabby hands for the remote that she was clutching just out of my reach. Ruuuddde.

"Excuse you, FIFA is hard work." I scowled, folding my arms over my stomach, giving up on my pitious attempts to get the controller back.

"Only when you're as bad at it as you are. So c'mon c'mon and get up now." She said smugly. She knows I hate it when she uses words from my songs against me. What a meanie.

I obliged to her 'commandments' without too many complaints and let her fix up my hair, and sprinkle my face with a light dusting of makeup stuff. I'm not very experienced with those kinds of things, but I sort of like it anyway.

"Why are we rushing? Show doesn't start for another half hour." I exclaimed after reading the small clock hung on the wall to my left.

Lou sighed, forcefully twisting my head back to face the mirror. "Stay still and I wouldn't have to rush so much."