Before we left the hotel itself, Niall stopped by his manager’s room to let him know we were off. I waited around the corner while they chatted, and soon Niall was back with me, a strange folder of some sort in his hand. We made our way to the parking garage and got into his BMW. Looking closely at it, you would have thought he just bought it that morning. Those mechanics must have been sent from Heaven itself. The traffic was as awful as it was every morning, but I found I had no idea where exactly we were going. We eventually arrived at our destination – a little hole in the wall place I had never heard of.

“My manager says this place is good and there are practically no photographers. Is it okay?” he asked while taking off his Ray-Bans.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I love trying new places,” I answered, although I was unsure whether or not this place was even open. Apparently it was, because as we walked through the door we were greeted by the cutest little grandma I had ever seen. She sat us at our table and read us the specials.

“This morning our specials are red velvet pancakes with a cream cheese sauce; French toast stuffed with cream cheese, raspberries, and blueberries; and the house special five cheese omelet.” My mouth was watering the entire time. We each ordered coffee, and I decided on the omelet while Niall ordered the French toast. As we waited for our food, he pulled out the folder his manager had given him earlier. I gave him an eyebrow raise as he opened it, and saw it was full of magazines, newspaper clippings, and articles from the internet.

“Just catching up on my daily gossip,” he said as he winked at me and opened one of the magazines. Grandma Cuddles brought us our coffee, and I mixed the cream and four Equal packets into my coffee, then took a sip. I know artificial sweeteners apparently cause cancer or some bullshit, but I’d rather die young than be fat. I crumbled up the little blue packets and looked up at Niall, who was still reading. I looked around the practically empty restaurant and decided to play on my phone because there was nothing else to do. I pressed the center button and was shocked when I saw I had six new messages. The first two were pictures of my dog, Luigi, sent from my mother. He was cuddling on the couch next to the squirrel stuffed animal I had bought him right before I left for Spring semester. The caption read “he never lets it out of his sight!” Before I started cry I saved the pictures and got on to reading the other messages.

The next was from Cocky Little Shit at 2 in the morning: Charge wfere are huh guys I want to paeyi seruotsl. I smiled because only Harry would disobey the rules of drunk texting. I was a pro at it myself, and was satisfied that I actually understood what he was trying to say.

I moved on to the last three messages which scared me the most. They were from my roommate, Naomi. The first was from 11:30 last night: Hey gorgeous! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow! My flight comes in at 6 so I should be back around 7-7:30. Love you! The next one read: Hey missy where are you?? I’m home and I want to see you :(. By the third text, she was fucking pissed: Charlie where the fuck are you? Are you fucking dead? I felt kind of bad, but seriously did she not think I had a life? Racking my brain for a good excuse, I typed what sounded the best: Sorry Nay! I was partying late last night and passed out in someone’s bed. No surprise, right? Perfect. I mean, it was the truth…just not the whole truth. But I surely couldn’t say: Sorry Nay I went to a party with One Direction and got really drunk and fucked one of them. Oops! Yep, I’m sure that text would have been much better. My phone buzzed with her response: Okay just be home, soon! I have a present for youuu. Typical Naomi -- she never came back from anywhere without a present for me.

Before I could text back, Niall threw one of the internet print-outs at me. “Ha, look at that! You’re famous now, too!”

I grabbed the piece of paper and started reading. There was a picture of Niall and me leaving the club, with a caption reading, “Niall Horan and mystery brunette leaving Opera last night. Has the 1D boy found a new girl?” I put down the paper and looked at Niall.

“Is this bad?” I asked, biting my lip. He laughed.

“No, not at all. Do you know how many girls I’m accused of dating on a daily basis? At least this one holds some truth.” I smiled and took another sip of my coffee. Just as I put down my mug we were brought our food. It was Grandpa Hugs this time, and he was just as cute as his wife. I admired him while he set our food in front of us, the smells intoxicating my nose. When he finished we thanked him and Niall dug in before I could even grab my fork.

“So, babe, tell me about you. I want to know everything,” he said in between bites of sausage.

I told him that I had grown-up in New York City, and that although I loved my city with everything I had, I knew I belonged in California, at college here. I told him about my amazing family that still lived there in Manhattan; I told him about my friends that I had back home and here, including my roommate and two best friends; I told him my favorite hobbies, and where I worked. I even found myself telling him little things, like my massive love for my dog back home, and stupid things like how on my first day of kindergarten, a little boy in my class told me I was a cat because of my initials, and I spent the rest of the day meowing and begging to be pet; and from then on through high school I was known as Cat, not Charlie, but dumped that nickname when I moved here. The entire time he looked so engaged, as if he was hanging onto every last word that came out of my mouth. Once I got tired of talking, I asked about his life story.

His, of course, was much more fascinating in my opinion. He told me about growing up in Ireland and how he always dreamed of being a singer. I learned about his brother and friends back home, and how Derby was his favorite football team ever since he was little. He gushed about his new nephew, Theo, and how he couldn’t wait to be a great father like his dad and brother. He talked about traveling the globe with the band, and the crazy fans they encounter in every country. His face lit up whenever he brought up the boys and it warmed my heart. “I wouldn’t change any of this for the world,” he gleamed as he took another bite of his French toast.

We talked for what seemed like hours, but finally decided to head back to his hotel. When the check came, I happily paid the ridiculously cheap price of our now clean plates. Well, mine was clean only because Niall finished what I was too full to eat. We even hugged our new grandparents on the way out, and promised we’d be back soon. It was kind of cute, actually, that I guy I had barely known for a week was showing me a better time than half the guys I’d dated. Fuck, the last time I went to a restaurant with a man was when my creepy Sociology professor tried to hit on me at an Olive Garden. I was still skeptical of Niall’s presence, but I guess because I have trust issues. I tried to ignore my thoughts in the car ride home until I remembered I had promised Harry breakfast. Fuck.

“Shit, Niall, I forgot I told Harry I’d bring him back something. Can we pull into the Panera drive-thru?” I got Sir Horndog a bagel with cream cheese and we made our way back to the hotel.

When we entered the room, Boston’s More Than a Feeling was blasting from the TV speakers. After he heard the door close, Harry emerged from his room – completely naked. I groaned as I threw the bag containing his bagel at him. “Eat up, Harry.”

“Aw, thanks, babe! But next time, can you come back faster? I’m fucking starved.” I glared at him as he took a bite.

“Can you maybe put some pants on, lad?” Niall asked, probably feeling as uncomfortable as I was.

“Why?” Harry questioned, “No one has ever had a problem with my naked body before.” I choked on my laugh at his conceitedness, and he responded by humping the air in my direction.

“Oh, real nice, Haz!” Niall joked, throwing my water bottle from earlier at him.

“I can’t help it that I’m beautiful,” he peeped, batting his eyelashes. I rolled my eyes and decided to change the subject.

“So where’s your girlfriend?” He squished his face up at me.

“First off, she’s not my girlfriend. Second, she had to go do some model thing – I don’t fucking know. She was annoying the fuck out of me. Niall can you believe she wouldn’t even give me head last night? Like why the fuck would I bring her home if I didn’t want a blow job.” He continued his gross sex story while Niall and I sat at the bar stools of the kitchen island. I tuned him out and started to daydream about last night. Just being in the hotel room again made my heart flutter. What the fuck was happening to me? “…and then she couldn’t find her shoes this morning. Like, how the fuck am I supposed to know where your fucking shoes went?” He finished talking and went to a cabinet to grab a glass. I subconsciously moved my feet to hide the flip-flops, but that failed when Niall felt my legs move.

“Hey I didn’t know you—“ I slapped my hand over his mouth and shushed him. He caught on and licked my palm away.

“What?” Harry asked, pouring himself some juice.

“Uh, I was just saying I didn’t know you had such a tight ass, Harry. I’m jealous.” Boy, this kid was quick on his feet.

Harry smiled and sipped his drink. Then he took a seat next to Niall at the island. “I’ll teach you all my sex tricks, mate. It’s all in the pelvis trusts, yeah?” I gagged and tried not to imagine Harry pelvis thrusting into that blonde from this morning.

“So how long are you all in LA for?” I tried to bring the subject off Harry and his sexcapades.

“Indefinitely,” Niall answered. Indefinitely? What the fuck did that mean? Being the boy to always read my mind, he continued. “We’re not on tour or anything, but it’s important we stay in the US for promos and such. In fact, we even have a gig next week to keep the hype up. Our manager likes the publicity of us being here, and the change of scenery is always nice for song writing.”

I hid my frown. This boy, who I was becoming more attached to than I should have been, was going to be living near me indefinitely. For fucks sake, he was in a boy band; meaning they could go anywhere and record music. I’m sure he missed home and wouldn’t mind being back in the UK if given the chance. He could leave at any moment -- and that was the thought that saddened me the most.