HARRY STYLES
Waking up in my clothes from the night before, with a profuse pounding in the back of my head, I felt like I was in university again. The room was dim enough that I couldn't quite tell if it was early morning or evening, which wasn't a great sign.
My neck was sore from passing out on the couch without a pillow under my head, my body was damp with sweat from sleeping with my jacket, jeans, and boots on, and I could feel the sleep still embedded in my eyes as I opened them. It took me a minute or two to even realize that I was at Alfie's flat. How I got there, I had no fucking idea.
I slowly pushed myself up from my chest to my hands and knees, giving myself a second to let the blood rush back to my head before sitting upright. My hands came up to rub the sleep out of my eyes, slowly patting myself down to find my dead phone in my pocket.
"He lives," Alfie laughed somewhere to my left. "I was getting tired of checking your pulse."
I turned my head to see him at his kitchen table, measuring weed on a little scale. "The fuck am I doing here?"
"Great question," he responded quietly as he concentrated for a moment, then looked over at me. "You, Niall, and Zayn showed up here last night demanding drugs like it was a fuckin' heist or something. You guys were so fucked up already."
"Oh," I yawned, rubbing my eyelids for almost a minute. "Sorry."
"No, it wasn't a big deal," he chuckled, "it was entertaining, and you were all past your limit after just one hit from a blunt each."
I nodded but failed to find the same humor as I remembered why I wanted to get so fucked up in the first place. "Do you have a phone charger I can use? Mine's dead."
"Yeah, should be one in the outlet on your left."
My whole body disagreed with the movement as I shifted across the couch to find the white cord, just staring at the black screen until it came back to life. Alfie said something about how there was leftover pizza if I was hungry, and I was, but not after seeing the singular text Camden sent me a few minutes past 3 AM that morning.
Camden: Nice. Hope she was worth it.
I started to panic and rack my brain, trying to remember if I had done something with anyone, and if she happened to find out about it. The guys and I did go out to a few pubs, but I clearly woke up alone and never took my clothes off. That was a good thing, wasn't it?
"Was it just me, Zayn, and Niall last night?" I asked Alfie. "No one else?"
"No one else except for the girl I had over, who was less than impressed before she left, so thanks for that."
"And did we say anything about what we did before that? Like, where we went?"
Alfie hummed out a sigh like he was trying to think about it. "You said you were at the pubs before, but that's it. You didn't say exactly where or anything."
Taking that into consideration, I opened my phone to check my Instagram to see if I had posted something on my story, or if Zayn and Niall had done so either. It was rare for me to do that unless I was on tour, in the studio, or simply re-posting a story I had been tagged in that was work-related. So just as I thought, all of our accounts were barren.
"What the fuck?" I muttered to myself as I came up empty-handed, shooting a quick text to our guy's group chat to reluctantly ask if I did something I shouldn't have.
Niall: No you were bitching about Cam all night
Zayn: You wouldn't shut up about her
Niall: Also we would have killed you before you even thought about cheating on her
