Chapter 16

Harry's POV:

 

The first night on the tour bus as great. We all slept peacefully in our new bunks as the driver, Clark, drove us to Cardiff, the steady rode rocking us back and forth as we slept. The next morning, I woke up and saw that I was the last person to wake up - even Zayn was out of bed! I carefully and slowly sat up on my bunk, making sure I didn't hit my head on the top bunk. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I hopped off, making a somewhat loud thud. I did my famous hair ruffle before walking down the swirly stair case. As I make my way down, I heard laughter and chatter coming from the kitchen. Walking in, I saw the lads and Carly eating either cereal, toast, and eggs. Carly was about to put a spoonful of Cheerios when she saw me, and smiled.

 

"Morning, sleepy head!" She grins, causing the rest of the boys to turn and smile at me.

 

"Morning," I reply in my rough, morning voice. "I want food."

 

Liam lets out a laugh. "You sound like Niall," he says, handing me a bowl and spoon as I reach out for the cereal box, sitting down next to Carly. She smiles at me and then continues eating. Her hair is tied into a messy bun, face make up free, and she was wearing a light purple tank top with blue pajama pants. Even like this, I couldn't help but admire her natural beauty.

 

We all eat breakfast, talking here and there, until Clark calls out, "We've arrived in Cardiff!"

 

"Thanks, Clark!" Zayn relies, putting his dishes in the sink.

 

After eating breakfast, we all got ready. You see, whenever we arrive in a city or a town, we pack two-three days worth of clothes in a bag and stay at a hotel. It's much safer. That way, we have better security than we do on the bus. Liam, Niall, Louis, and I start packing our clothes as Niall and Carly take the two bathrooms to get dressed. As I finish packing, Carly walks in dressed in black skinny jeans, silver flats, and a blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her make up is applied naturally, and her hair is perfectly straight, letting you see the blonde highlights more clearly. I smile at her before walking into the bathroom with some of my clothes. After freshening up, I changed into blue jeans, white V-neck, and once walking out of the bathroom, I put on my socks and Converse. Just then, the bus pulled to a stop and we could suddenly hear Paul's voice from down stairs.

 

"Lads! Carly! You ready?!" He calls up, his Irish accent clear in his voice.

 

"Yes!" Multiple replies are shouted back at him, and we all tumble down the stairs, holding our bags.

 

Paul sees us and nods. "Good. We've checked you into your hotel already. Lets go."

 

We follow Paul out into the empty parking lot. The tour buses are always parked inside a secret parking lot inside of the hotels. The only other cars that were here were the other tour bus for the bands, and the two black vans. We go through a door that leads us to an elevator. Getting in, Paul pressed the button that says '125' and the elevator starts going up. A few minutes later, the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, revealing a gorgeous hallway. Whenever we go into a hotel, Management books us the entire floor so no one runs into us. Paul stops walking in the middle of the hallway and turned to us.

 

"Right. Harry, Louis, you'll be in room 302. Liam and Niall in room 303. Zayn in 304, and Carly in 305," Paul explains, handing us the room keys.

 

"How come Carly and Zayn get their own rooms?" Louis whines as Paul hands them their keys.

 

"Because you lads are an odd number, and Carly needs her privacy," Paul replies, and Carly shoots him a grateful smile. I don't blame her. Us lads can be quite a handful. We all then disperse, heading towards our assigned rooms. Using the key card, I walk into the suite with Louis following behind me. The room was nice, with a king sized bed, large windows, a bathroom, and bed side tables on either side of the bed.

 

Louis and I set our stuff down on the bed and I ask him, "So what are our plans for today?"

 

Louis shrugs. "It's our day off," he says. "We can do whatever." We then decided to go check out the rest of the lads and Carly. "I'll get the boys. You can get Carly," he says with a sly wink, and then runs out the door.

 

I roll my eyes at my best friend's antics, and then go to Carly's room. 305, if I remember correctly. Once I get to her room, I knock on the door. I hear her shuffling from the other side of the door, and the door swings open, revealing Carly. She looks like she's getting ready, in the middle of applying lip gloss. Frowning, I ask, "Where are you going?"

 

Carly sighs, putting the lipgloss on the bed and a pruning a hand through her long hair. "Kristen booked an interview for me. I'm heading there now."

 

"But it's your day off," I say, my eyebrows still pulled together.

 

Carly shrugs, licking her pink lips. "Not anymore," she says, slipping on her silver flats from before. "I'll see you boys later."

 

"Or we can come with you," I suggest with a smile.

 

Carly shakes her head. "It's your day off," she says. "You shouldn't be spending it by coming to some interview with me. You have to do enough of those already."

 

"But we want to," a new voice says. Carly and I turn around and see the rest of the boys standing there, and Zayn was the one who spoke before.

 

Carly looks past me at the boys. "But -" she starts, but is cut off.

 

"Oh, come on," Niall says. "It's not like we have anything better to do, anyway."

 

Carly sighs and picks up her phone from the bed. "Fine. Come on."

 

***********

 

"Pictures of you and Harry Styles have been all over the Internet and magazines everywhere. Can you confirm or deny these relationship rumors?" The interviewer asks Carly, and I quietly let out a groan as the boys and I watch from behind the stage. These rumors really tick me off sometimes.

 

Carly chuckles. "Harry and I are just friends," she affirms. "He's a really sweet guy and a really good friend of mine. So no, we aren't in a relationship."

 

I smile at her answer, but something in my stomach feels weird. It's churning. What the heck? "Now, lets talk about this video," the interviewer says, and on the TV screen behind them the video of Carly dancing with her friends starts playing - the one Louis had showed us - but without any music or sound. The crowd hoots and claps, and Carly just blushes a deep shade of red. "Now, what is that?" The interviewer laughs.

 

"It's just an old video," Carly laughs. "My friends and I were really bored, and since we were in a dance studio, we just decided to make a video, and our instructor just filmed it."

 

The interviewer smiles. "Well, you can certainly dance," she says.

 

The interview goes on for about fifteen more minutes, and my eyes don't leave Carly for some reason. The way the stage lights beam down on her, making her literally grow. That beautiful smile never leaving her face, the way she would run a hand through her long hair, and her amazing laugh that I love hearing. But wait, do I like her?

 

No, I don't. She's my friend. My best friend.

 

Nothing more.

 

Once the interview ends, Carly comes back towards us and sighs. "I'm tired," she whines, burying her face in my shoulder. I laugh, reaching up and petting her hair.

 

"I know what can cheer you up," Louis smirks, causing Carly to lift her head up and we all stare at the Doncaster boy. His smirk somewhat widens as he yells out, "CLUBBING!"