Set Free // HS ✓

Thirty-Three.

The weekend was lovely while it lasted, but as soon as Monday hit it was full speed ahead.

Radio interviews, TV appearances, a new fragrance, photo shoots, writing, recording, rehearsing. It never ends. Today we have a meeting, and thankfully once it's over Niall is giving me a few hours to myself.

Harry enters and sits across from me in this cramped conference room, and my heart nearly jumps out of my chest at the sight of him.

"Hi," He mouths, which causes me to giggle like a little church girl.

Why am I like this?

I notice Niall giving me a strange look in my peripheral vision, probably wondering what's so funny. Harry smiles at me, which sends butterflies to my stomach.

Oh, he's so cute!

Even though we have been working for no less than sixteen hours a day, he still has been so sweet. Yesterday, we were able to sneak away from everyone for a few minutes, and he kissed me again.

It's all too much; Harry is bringing out a part of me that I didn't even know existed.

But, what am I doing? What is he doing? What does this mean? Does he like me? Could he like me?

Again, why am I like this?

I desperately need help with all of this 'crush' nonsense.

"Wren!"

"Huh?" I snap out of my inner monologue and find everyone staring at me— including management.

Oh, the meeting has started?

"Sorry," I mutter, avoiding eye contact.

Sherri, the Modest representative, repeats what she said only moments earlier, "Just be sure to make a note for Tuesday the sixteenth for BBC Live Lounge."

"Got it."

"Immediately after that, we need to have a meeting here with Max to go over everything about the tour— We're still not done with scheduling press in the individual cities as of right now, but it should be all be finalized by then."

When I get to that specific date on the calendar, I notice something.

Tuesday the sixteenth is my birthday. We work all day. Good!

No time for any foolishness!

"As you know, the MTV Europe award show is tomorrow night. Please don't go on the red carpet intoxicated."

Louis lightly bangs his head on the table a few times as she carries on. I've come to realize that all of these gatherings are the same... and about ninety-nine percent of the time, the meeting could have just been an email.

This one is no exception.

"Okay now that we have this out of the way... There's one more thing we need to tell you guys, and I know that none of you will be particularly happy with this." She clears her throat, "Poppy Winston is having her birthday party—"

"Nope," Louis cuts in, "Don't even bother finishing that sentence. Is the meeting over now? Good, I have booty waiting for me at home," He starts to stand up in his seat, but Liam pushes him down.

Louis Tomlinson is my spirit animal.

"As I was saying," She clears her throat, "Her birthday party is next Saturday. With the circumstances, it's important for you guys to at least make an appearance. Just enough for a few photos. It'll show that there's no bad blood—"