Rise To The Top ➳ l.s. | n.h.

Chapter Thirty Nine

It was hard to get to 20 last time (awh) so I'm going to make it 15 votes for the next chapter. x

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"For god sakes!" Harry shouted as he closed the glass door to the balcony. He faced Cara and sighed. "They're mobbing the front!"

"I'll text him now," said Cara, pulling out her phone and also sighing with anxiety. Harry doesn't know what to do. They're due out the front in a couple of minutes to have their dinner date, but he doesn't think they're going to get anywhere with over a hundred paparazzi, probably, scowling at the front like hungry cats. "Paul said don't move, stay in the hotel."

"Thank fuck!" Harry glanced to the crowd again. They're only three storeys up above the paps and he can hear the screaming and shouting of the mob demanding for Cara and Harry to make a show. Harry hit his head on the glass. This wasn't going as planned.

"Paul doesn't want us to go anywhere, Harry. He's worried about our safety--"

"For once."

Cara snorted. "He's thinking of somethin' else, so we aren't all dandy and free just yet," She told, chucking her phone to the pillow and glaring at Harry. "You know, I'll be more comfortable on the small chair. You don't need to give me the bed--"

"We've talked about this," Harry laughed. "You're all right, Cara. I'll take the couch."

"Literally you're only going to be able to fit your head on that thing."

"I'm not that abnormally massive. If I curl up, I'll be able to fit in nice and snuggly."

"Don't complain to me when you have a sore neck tomorrow, doofus," Cara's attention focused to her phone as it buzzed. She snatched it from the pillow and slid her finger across the screen. A text message. "All right, Paul said that we might have to go out at one point when there aren't so many paps around and we have to just snuggle and stuff, I guess."

"Great plan, innit?"

"He's a damn moron, he is," Cara hissed. "I don't even get the point of this. We both have lovers to get home to. This isn't even for anything, it's just for a small article in GQ."

"They could have just photoshopped us!"

"Exactly!"

Harry shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing noisily. "God, I wish I could talk to Louis."

"If you remembered his damn number," Cara rolled her eyes. "I don't even know how you could forget your own boyfriend's number."

"For one, I'm not his boyfriend. Secondly, I'm a rather forgetful person at times."

"But Louis' number, Harry! Plus you don't even know where your phone is. Only an idiot would put it on silent."

Harry pointed to his face, circling around it. "You see this?" He asked with wide eyes. "This is the amount of fucks I give."

"Why are we even friends?"

"Because we met in a room and were forced into a relationship," Harry smiled. Cara rolled her eyes again. Harry stepped to the bed and sat on the mattress, tapping at Cara's cheek. "But we are the bestest of friends."

"Bestest."

"I love youuuu," He grinned, batting his eyelashes. Cara slapped his face lightly, giggling at him. The jokes kept coming, but soon enough night came down and business started. Harry and Cara held hands on the balcony and the paps made a sneak up on the two. 

The publicity was endless. They were on the balcony for twenty minutes and if the girl he was with wasn't Cara, Harry probably would have jumped right off when he could.