Your Creation • Zarry

1. It's my birthday

February 2013

I did not anticipate on getting this piss drunk and Nick Grimshaw and Niall Horan were to blame. I was donning a navy blue button down adorned with white hearts on my 19th birthday getting liquored up on vodka red bulls after a full feast of fried chicken, duck wings, champagne, beer and frozen margaritas.

In between the wild antics of the night, all the terrible dancing, and loudly singing Rihanna at the top of our lungs, I had also managed to succeed in distracting myself from the fact that some other very important mates of mine were missing from my birthday festivities, one of which I was particularly disappointed wasn't there.

The Alibi was littered with loads of people in the hazy, sweaty atmosphere and I knew some of them and others were merely acquaintances, but I didn't mind. I enjoyed being around people and celebrating, going out, having a good time. I was young and this is what people were supposed to do, right? At some point I had lost track of what time it was, especially after the police officer arrived - and by police officer I mean stripper. Of course my friend Nick, the BBC1 Radio Dj whom I often referred to as 'Grimmie,' had hired her for a laugh, which it was, since strippers held very little appeal to me.

What were friends for if not to embarrass you in public?

As usual, Niall, my bandmate and good friend, kept offering me more beer, but I was pretty well gone and kept swatting him away like a nat. Niall was most definitely one of my favorite people to party with. He was a cutie with blonde hair and blue eyes, incredibly Irish and always so happy-go-lucky with this great, contagious laugh. I found it particularly enjoyable watching him shamelessly talk to girls all night with no cares in the world.

It was amusing that the media loved to pin me as this "womanizer," except for that fact that I was hardly the one who got on best with the ladies. Most of the time I was with friends being stupid and awkward around women who still somehow fancied me and I hardly even knew why. But truth be told, the one who got on with women the best was probably Niall.

I stood at the edge of the dance floor digging my phone out of my pocket for the first time in awhile. I tried to make it a habit of not being on my phone whenever I was out because I liked to savor moments in real time; they felt much more meaningful. I glanced down at the time. It was nearly two in the morning and I had dozens of unread birthday messages to ignore, all except for one in particular that I had to open.

Happy Birthday Baby Boi!

I felt myself smile. It hadn't been too long since I last saw him, but I missed Zayn. Zayn was my bandmate and the person I considered to be my closest friend for the past three years. I had wanted him to come out with us that night, but he thought it was best to just chill and I knew why. He had just been outed for some recent 'cheating allegations' and laying low was top on his list of priorities. Zayn was always getting into some kind of mischief.

Niall swooped in behind me and squeezed my shoulder, laughing to himself.

"Harold! Listen, I think I'm getting ready to leave pretty soon," he slurred, motioning with his eyes at a pretty blond girl to his right.

I chuckled, knowing exactly what he meant and squeezed his shoulder back.

"Oh, I see," I responded, flashing him a grin. "Alright, but don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Well mate, if that's the case then the sky's the limit for what I can get up to!"

Niall laughed again and raised his brows, waving me off before walking towards the girl, linking his arm with hers and exiting the club. I just stood there laughing quietly to myself, glad to see that he had been having such a great night. It would have been kind of nice if Louis and Liam, my other two bandmates, had decided to come, but they apparently had other plans across town and promised that they would make it up to me; I was holding them to it. Luckily I had loads of other friends.

I let out a yawn and started realizing that the night was wearing me down, but to be quite honest, I wasn't exactly ready to go home yet. I hated going home alone. I stared at my phone for a couple of minutes, spacing out, as Grimmie and our mutual friend Pixie Geldof waltzed up to me.

"We're heading over to Alexa's for an after-after party, are you coming?" Grimmie asked.

"Yeah, why the hell not," I replied.

It's not like I had anything else to do.

We exited the club shortly afterward and walked to the car that was waiting, all while trying to do our best to ignore the lingering paparazzi, but I'm sure they got some lovely photos of me stumbling over the sidewalk with my security detail following behind. Once we arrived at Alexa's I had a few shots of Jagermeister and around three in the morning I had decided to make a very impulsive decision.

"I think I'm gonna head out," I told the group and they all just sort of shot me a look.

"Oh yeah? And where are you running off to Mr. Styles?" Grimmie questioned me, wiggling his eyebrows, as if he was insinuating that I was about to get up to something naughty.

"The moon," I replied cheekily while planting a kiss right on his lips just because I could.

"Don't smooch me like that you saucy little shit. You have to buy me dinner first. I'm not an easy bird to pull," he toyed with me, laughing.

"Alright you let me know where and when," I joked back at him, winking.

"And wear a condom!" he shouted at me as I walked out the door and I proceeded to flip him off for good measure. I hopped inside the car that was waiting for me and the driver turned around.

"Shall I bring you home then?" My driver, Pete, asked.

But that's not where I was planning on going.

"Nope," I answered before promptly giving him Zayn's address.