I shut my front door behind me and threw my keys across the counter. Grabbing a water bottle out of my fridge, I slowly made my way to my bedroom, needing to get to my computer so I could answer questions that were surely flooding Harry's twitter because of the album and tour announcement.
"Hello," a disembodied voice suddenly sounded, and I jumped, whiring around. I was about to go all kung-fu ninja master on the intruder when I saw Niall step out of the shadows.
"Jesus, I . . . what the hell, Niall?" I stuttered, placing my hand over my heart, trying to slow it down.
"Well, I needed to talk to you, but I didn't think you'd take me up on an offer for coffee after the way I treated you," Niall smiled sheepishly. I frowned.
"Why do you want to talk?" I asked.
"Please come be my manager again," Niall blurted out. "The new guy . . . he sucks! He doesn't know anything about me, or how I work, or how we should promote things, or anything! He just . . . he doesn't get me and I hate him and he's a stuck-up asshole who doesn't know shit about how to manage a celebrity. And I'm so sorry about how we treated you that day. That was a total dick move, I should've told you about it before you just showed up and he was there. You were just so busy with Harry and all your other clients and I thought--"
I cut him off by tackling him in a hug, my heart swelling and a huge smile on my face. "It's okay, Niall. I'll be your manager again."
"Wait, really?" Niall asked in disbelief, wrapping his arms around me. I pulled away and nodded, grinning.
"Yeah. And I'll be able to focus more on you again because I . . . well, I think I'm gonna drop Harry."
"What? Why? I thought he was paying you really well!" Niall asked, furrowing his eyebrows and crossing his arms over his chest.
I sighed. "He was, but we, uh, we just didn't get along too well."
Niall narrowed his eyes. "You fell for him, didn't you?"
I bit my lip and toyed with my necklace. Finally, my words came tumbling out, and I told Niall everything. He listened quietly, his frown slowly deepening as my story went on.
Once I was finished, Niall muttered, "That goddamned, dick-head, ass-lamp mother--"
"Niall," I scolded, snorting slightly at his colorful language.
"I'm sorry, but that guy deserves a pole shoved up his--"
Niall was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. Frowning slightly, I padded over to the door and opened it up.
"Ohmygod, Harry!" I gasped. Harry slumped against the doorframe, his breaths coming in short, powerful gasps. His curls were plastered to his forehead, his chest heaving. Bruises bloomed all over his bare arms and peeked out of his t-shirt on to his shoulder. His head hung down as if he could barely support the weight of it, but he managed to glance up at me so that I could see the bruises and gashes that lined his face. "What happened to you?"
"Jackson," Harry rasped out, coughing. "He's coming."
"I don't think we should be doing this," Niall grumbled from the front seat of my car as he drove. I sat in the back with Harry, trying to clean up his wounds as much as possible.
I sighed. "Ni, I don't really care how much your or I despise this bastard, he's still a human being and we can't let him just die."
"Why not?" Niall muttered under his breath, but his foot stayed on the gas pedal.
