Chapter 1

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AN: This is my first ever One Direction story... so please be nice... if I have wrong information, please let me know, and I'll go back in and correct it.

And I do want to point out that I do have a learning disabilty. My English (British/Irish slang lol) are not that great in writing.  If I say something wrong written, please comment or DM me about it and I'll go back and correct it... I will accept help, but no harassing... I will not take it kindly. I am looking for someone that has the time to be a co-writer and/or be an editor...

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Chapter 1

(Nicole’s POV)

            It was going to be a wild night tonight. Well, every night here at Boujis Nightclub is wild. But we were the hottest and coolest club in London. We had teens, adults, college students, celebrities, even a few royalty members come in, but of course with that known, we have the press outside too, just to get a picture of a celebrity coming inside to hang out or to party.

            Me? My name is Nicolette Mercer, Nikki or Nicole, whoever knows me personally, and I have been working here at the club for a couple of years now, and yes I have seen everything. From fights, stripping, over drunk, getting sick, some having sex in the corners, you name it, I see it all.

            I was just done mixing a few drinks as my friend and extra help Mandy Taffy, was getting beers for a group at the bar. She was great at what she did here. She was here longer then I was, but I admired her fast work.  I served the drinks, taking the money that was laid out, and put it in the tile, and went back to work on the next customer waiting.

            “Hi,” he said with a smile and British accent.  He was this young looking guy, curly mop of hair, beautiful eyes from what I could see, and great smile, and clothes.

            “Hello,” I said. “What can I get ya?” I asked.

            “My friends and I would like some drinks… so four Coronas please,” he ordered.

            “I would, but I need to see all of your IDs,” I told him with a smile.

            “Really?” he asked surprised and reached into his pocket, and hands me his ID.

            I took it and saw his name and his birthday, “Harry Styles, February 1, 1994.”

            “Ya,” he smiled with a worried look on his face.

            “What’s wrong,” I asked. “It’s not fake is it?”

            “No, it’s real,” he said fast. “Just that, well, mostly everyone knows who I am.”

            “Should I?” I asked him.

            He shakes his head, that curly hair flying, “No, I guess not.”

            “Well, I’ll give you your Corona, but your friend’s will have to come get theirs from me.”

            “Could I give you their names and the money?” he asked. “That why you know who they are and I paid for them.”

            This guy was being really nice about it.  “Sure,” I smirked, grabbed a pad and pen. “Hit me.”

            “Okay, they are Niall Horan, Liam Payne who might come get water since he is the DD tonight, Zayn Malik, and Louis Tomlinson.”

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