remember that week where harry was literally obsessed with taking vines of niall
the only thing i can tell you about 2013 is that one direction did too many things
harry has the best hair to grip when his face is between your legs
have you ever stopped liking somebody that you liked a lot and suddenly notice that they are a shitty person and realize how blinded you were by how much you liked them
“Whaddya mean there are no more available flights to London?” Niall exclaimed indignantly over the phone in his room. “But it’s the holidays!”
“C’mon there must be some flight going to the UK,” I negotiated from my own phone. After Niall got over his initial shock at my suggestion of escape, he hurried back down to our suite and immediately reached for his phone, apparently fully on board with the madness of my plan. So here we are, both trying to get flights back home, and both seemingly failing.
Because the problem was that there were absolutely no more flights left.
“Okay. Yeah….yeah, I understand,” I mumbled into the phone. “Thank you for your time.” I slumped into the couch and ran my hands over my eyes. I’m so tired. And all I wanted to do was get home and spend the holidays in Holmes Chapel. I don’t want to spend Christmas in a foreign country and an unfamiliar hotel room.
I pulled out my laptop and began searching while Niall sunk down with a huff next to me, looking even more defeated than before.
“Nothing,” he mumbled, his rosy Irish cheeks filling out from his pout. “How is it that it’s only December 21st and all the flights out of here are booked already?”
I sigh and scroll down the airline’s webpage. “Well, there’s an available flight out of here tomorrow morning for Stockholm. But after that there’s nothing else. Everything else is either booked or in coach.”
He groaned. “Why can’t we book a private plane?”
“Because,” I said, trying to keep my tone even, “we can’t book a private jet without getting the papers from Martha. And we both know that’s not gonna happen.”
“Well just get Paul to do it.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.
The temptation to bang my head against the table was beginning to become harder to resist. “Paul is just our tour manager. He has no power over Martha.”
“Well,” Niall huffed. “Let’s go in coach.”
Losing my patience, I rolled my eyes and typed furiously at my keyboard. “We can’t go in coach, Niall,” I chastised. “We’re travelling without security and we have a larger chance of being recognized in coach. Flying without security already means trouble. We can’t afford any more.”
He made a face at me and pulled out his own laptop to do his own research. “We can always take the trains,” he offered, not once averting his eyes from the screen.
“Niall,” I groaned. “We can’t take the trains! That’s even worse than coach.” It’s times like these when I just want to reach out and wack him across his head.
He glanced at me and made yet another face. “I doubt it. I mean, it’s the holidays. The stations will be full of busy travelers trying to get home. No one will be looking for a couple of world famous boybanders.”
I rolled my eyes for what seemed to be the millionth time tonight. “Well, gee, when you put it that way…”
“C’mon, Haz,” he begged, jabbing my side. “It’s worth a shot.”
“No, it’s not. We’ll be caught and shipped back to Australia the minute Management gets wind of our whereabouts. Then God knows what Martha will do to us.”
I updated HFTH the other day. Have you read it yet? :)