The Boy That Doesn't Talk // ls

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Hi... I came up with this idea literally this morning and I have a free period so I'm going to start writing.. whether this is published or not is a different story :)

Enjoy!

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Harry's POV:

"Harry!" My best mate Niall yells from outside my door. We are currently doing album signings around the UK together for my new album.

"What?" I groan as I roll out of bed and put some sweatpants on. He always comes knocking on my door at stupid-o'clock in the morning. Like now, it's 8 am.

"We're leaving in an hour so I figured you should probably get up so we can have some food" he tells me, as if its obvious. That's the thing about Niall, he loves food. That is an understatement actually, it's his one true love, the thing he cares about most, the thing he can't get enough of... literally. He possibly eats too much but somehow manages to keep his nice body. I don't get it.

"Fine, give me some space to get dressed though mate" I say, shoving on a shirt. Niall backs out the room as I almost lose my balance and end up having to sit on the bed to stop myself from completely toppling over.

Once I'm wearing my red t shirt and grey joggers, I head down to the lobby, where I assume Niall is waiting for me. Unsurprisingly, he's not waiting. In fact, he's already got food and is shoveling it down the back of his throat. I roll my eyes and go and grab my own food.

"This is the best hotel buffet we've been to so far" Niall tells me as I sit down opposite him. I raise my eyebrows at the way he's devouring his plate.

"Yep, you look like you're enjoying yourself" I chuckle lightly, tucking in to my own meal. As I'm eating (at a normal pace), I watch as Niall finishes his entire plate and goes to pile up more food onto his, now, empty plate. Greedy bastard.

Once Niall and I finish, Niall having had three more plates and me only having one in total, we head back up to the room to get ready to leave. It's already 8:40, and considering the fact that Niall wouldn't stop eating, I'm not surprised we're running late.

Our typical routine would be to eat by 8:30 and leave our room by 8:45 but as Niall said, it was really good food and so he just didn't stop.

We're in Birmingham at the moment and we did a signing here yesterday, but today we're moving to London, the last place on the so-called tour. It's also where we live, together.
Niall and I have shared a house for 4 years, since I first became "a big deal" with my first album. And since then, he's done everything with me. Yes, I have management and security and lawyers and all the standard people that tell me what to do but I don't really need that with Niall. We just do it ourselves, as if we're not famous at all and we use this, actually limited freedom to our advantage.

He'll come on stage with me to sing sometimes because he is an amazing singer. (Not that he'll let me tell him that). But other than that, he is my main guitarist and sometimes pianist and helps to record and write my songs. Everything I ever need all in one little Irish lad.

Now it's 9, we're finally all packed up and in our car. Its actually a van that's big enough for 10 people but it only carries 5 of us. There's Paul, our favourite person, aka basically our body guard/security. There's Rick, Simon's employee that tells us everything Simon wants us to do, so he's almost our boss and we can't do anything unless he says it's ok. And then there's Steve, our driver, he's lovely but doesn't talk much.