CHAPTER TWELVE

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A/N: Since Taylor Swift wasn't really right for this story, I made up a character named Kitty Drift who's a cross between Taylor Swift and Katy Perry.

Warning: there is smut.

I really hope you like this chapter:) It was a lot of fun to write!

HAPPY PERFECT DAY


LOUIS / PAST

Eleanor wasn't the prim and proper lady she claimed to be, thank God. Our extended holiday in Bermuda was actually pretty amazing. She swore like a sailor, drank like a fish and danced like a stripper. She's the only person I ever met who was more boy-crazy than me, and that's saying something. Because she got so handsy with guys in the clubs, management told us to stick to the hotel. We mostly just shopped, drank and got high. Also, she taught me to tie a cherry stem with my tongue—information I knew would come in handy later with Harry.

The only downside was that Harry had nothing scheduled during the time I was away and I knew he would be bored to death without me.

Even though I had loads of fun with Eleanor I was happy to be back on tour with the lads. We were mostly knackered by the time we got on the bus but restless too. Dan, the bus driver on the North American leg of the tour, was with us at our worst—not young enough to be intimidated and not old enough to know better. He threatened to quit at least six times but never went through with it because as much as he hated us he also loved us. I suppose it didn't help that I liked to play a few pranks from time to time: Shoe polish on the steering wheel, driving off without him, hiding the bus, wet willies that sent him veering off the interstate... You know, the classics.

This was when Liam and I fought the most, when he claimed I took a joke too far, which was almost every joke since he had zero sense of humor. Niall too was often unimpressed by my antics but he just put his headphones on and tuned it out. Harry thought I was a menace but an adorable menace so he indulged me. I don't know that I would have been as tirelessly committed to mayhem if Zayn weren't there egging me on the entire time.

Somewhere between Dallas and Huston I employed what one might describe as a Guantanamo torture technique. Zayn and I had been singing the lyrics to Mr. Roboto over and over in Dan's ear for two hours straight.

Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto,
Mata ah-oo hima de
Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto,
Himitsu wo shiri tai

You're wondering who I am-machine or mannequin
With parts made in Japan, I am the modern man

"You do realize you're torturing us too," Liam said emerging from his bunk in flannel pajamas. "I'm trying to read."

Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo...domo
Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo...domo
Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo...domo

Dan snapped. "Enough!"

"Eh!" Zayn and I high-fived. We got him to crack. We won.

"It's not funny," lectured Liam. "You should apologize."

I clasped Dan's shoulder. "Dan isn't really mad, are you Danny boy?" He shook his head and grumbled.

Zayn fed him a Cheeto. "A peace offering."

"This is not funny," said Liam. "I'm quite serious."

Liam was about to get back in his bunk when he paused, noticing my Harry stretched out in the booth of the bus' living area innocently scrolling through his phone.

"I wonder how funny you think it would be if someone tortured young Harold here," said Liam.

I lowered my voice. "You wouldn't fucking dare."

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