“JJ! JJ! Wake up! I know you’re in there!”

“Hmrmph, go away,” I grumbled into my pillow, feeling entirely too exhausted for it to be morning already.

“JJ, don’t make me get Paul!”

I ignored him and curled up under my blankets, wanting to sink in the mattress and stay there forever.

A few minutes later, though, there was a buzzing noise, as my door was unlocked. Paul, in his infinite wisdom, had taken all of our extra room keys following the destruction of Harry’s room during my birthday, so he could access them whenever he needed to. It also meant that with enough whining, we could also get the keys to each others rooms, as Harry proved just now.

I grunted in annoyance as he landed on top of me, a cheeky smile on his face.

“Morning gorgeous,” he snickered mockingly, no doubt highly attracted to my crusty eyes, matted hair and dried drool covered cheek.

I rubbed my face in a weak attempt to enhance my appearance, before blinking up at him, my cheeks turning red as I remembered the night before. I had kept my word – I hadn’t slept with him – but we had snogged for quite a while.

Harry was a phenomenal kisser, that was for sure. He knew it too.

“Aren’t you going to get up?” he asked. “It’s our last day off.”

This was true. It was a Friday, and the boys had the day off before rehearsing and filming Saturday Night Live and then flying to Australia on Sunday. We were all planning on going our separate ways, as even One Direction needed breaks from one another, and Harry had been trying to convince me to come with him to Central Park. I, however, had already agreed to go on a sight-seeing tour with Niall. Besides, after my blow up with Louis, I was planning on keeping my distance from Harry when in the company of the others.

“I’m tired,” I whined, snuggling in a bit. Harry smirked and then straddled me on the bed, crushing his pelvis against my and leaning down so his curls flitted against my forehead.

“Are you awake yet?” he asked huskily, grinding his hips into mine, and even through the covers I could feel just how er...well endowed...he was.

“Are you crazy?” I hissed, trying to shove him off of me. “Did you even shut the door? What if – shit!”

“JJ?”

With one huge push, I knocked Harry to the floor between my bed and wall, losing most of my sheets in the process. Niall rounded the corner then, wearing a white shirt, sweat pants and a baseball hat, scratching the back of his neck.

“Did you know your door is open?” He asked, looking at me questioningly.

“Oh! Erm...”

“And why aren’t you dressed yet? We were supposed to meet up twenty minutes ago.”

I frowned apologetically, but Niall was too nice of a person to get angry over something so petty. He just grinned teasingly at me and grabbed a pair of my jeans from the floor and tossing them to me.

“Meet me downstairs?” he asked and I nodded, too terrified he would find Harry to really speak.
I let out a relieved breath when the door shut behind him, before glaring at Harry, who was snickering on the floor beside me.

“You’re an asshole,” I muttered, standing up and gathering my clothes for the day.

“Yeah, but you love me,” he replied easily, standing and dropping the covers back onto my bed.

He then came around the bed and sat down, watching me as I looked for a clean shirt to wear.

“Aren’t you going to let me get dressed?” I asked, glancing at him over my shoulder and waiting expectantly for him to leave.

“Come on, JJ,” he replied. “I’ve already seen you in your knickers.”

“Yeah, but I don’t remember it, so I’d rather pretend that it didn’t happen.”

“I have the pictures to prove it did. I look at them fairly often, as well.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“JJ,” he pouted, standing and coming over to me. He leaned down and pressed his lips against mine and for a moment I was caught up in everything that was Harry Styles. “Come on, just a little show,” he asked sweetly, sending me a wink.

I snapped out of it quickly.

“No,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Get of here Styles, before I kick your arse.”

“Ugh, fine,” he groaned in frustration, walking away from me immediately. Opening the door, he looked over his shoulder. “And brush your teeth, your breath is rank.”

I threw a shoe at him.

**

Two hours later, I was standing in a random subway station on some random New York street corner, watching as Niall struggled with the excessively confusing map. We were trying to get down to Battery Park and possibly take a boat out to see the Statue of Liberty, but having ended up in Harlem (on the complete wrong side of Manhattan, conveniently), I was ready to just get a cab.

Niall, however, was determined to figure out the subway system since “it couldn’t be any different than the Tube.”

But, apparently, it was.

While he argued with the ticket machine, I played absently with my phone, giving into some of my more masochistic tendencies and scanning through my Twitter feed. Again, more of the same. I had expected to feel less bothered by it, since I was now snogging Harry officially (though, not really officially) and therefore could feel superior to all the haters. But I didn’t. I actually felt a bit worse, to be honest.

It also probably didn’t help that Eleanor kept texting me, wanting to know what had gone on between Louis and me. Apparently, he wasn’t talking, which was frustrating her immensely, so she turned to me in the hope of getting some answers.

I, however, just ignored her.

I didn’t want to talk about it, not now that I was messing around with my brother’s best friend after he expressly told me not to and I lied about it. Shit.

My stomach lurched unpleasantly. Ugh.

“Well, this is complete bollocks,” Niall grumbled at the machine, kicking it angrily with one of his Supras. "Fucking shite."

“Going well?” I asked lightly, closing my eyes and leaning against the grimy subway wall, trying to settle my stomach.

Niall didn’t answer, only cursed some more. I heard some giggles approaching then and a feeling of complete resignation settled over me.

Directioners.

Opening one eye, I watched as the girls approached, holding their cameras up and giggling – lots of giggling. They must have been filming a video, since they kept scanning the area with the cameras, moving from me back to Niall and then back to each other. Always giggling.

“Hi Niall!” One chirped, before breaking out into more high pitched laughter. “Can we get a picture?”

Niall turned, looking confused. Evidently, he thought that his baseball hat and sunglasses combination was going to confuse his legions of stalkers. Poor kid.

“No, sorry, girls,” he replied, as nicely as possible. “My last day off you know, trying to get places.” He then turned his back to them and went back to messing with the machine.

I was quite proudly of him, actually. It was the first time I had seen him outright deny a fan a photograph and it was high time he did. Some of the requests were getting out of hand and he barely ever had a moment to just be a normal bloke. So, rather than get a picture, the girls giggled some more (though less enthusiastically, this time) and continued to videotape Niall’s back. They even said hello a few more times and tried to start a conversation with him.

Rolling my eyes, I pushed off the wall, ignoring the nausea I was feeling and stood between Niall and their camera, blocking as much of him from view as I could.

“Let me help,” I grumbled, taking his credit card from him and smashing some buttons in on the screen. Eventually, two tickets popped out and we made our way down to the trains.

“Do you think we’re going the right way?” he asked, as we stood on the crowded train and jostled against the other passengers. He was looking over my head at the map printed on the side of the train car, while I held onto the metal pole, trying to steady myself...and my stomach.

I was feeling quite wretched, actually. The smell and heat of the train wasn’t helping either. The car began to slow down dramatically for the next stop and I leaned into Niall’s chest, trying to stay upright, and squeezed my eyes shut.

“You alright?” he asked with concern, one arm wrapping around my waist. “You look a bit peakish, JJ.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” I groaned, before darting out the now open subway door and ignoring Niall’s calls.

I rushed through the crowds of people to the closest loo, hesitating only momentarily when I thought about the cleanliness factor. But, that thought made the vomit come that much faster, so I sprinted in and emptied the contents of my stomach into the closest toilet.

Now, I’m not good at vomiting, not one bit. Not that I think that is something you could ever be good at, but whenever I get sick I end up pulling muscles in my back and breaking all the blood vessels in my face. Not a pretty sight, I must say. So, not only was I kneeling on the grotty floor of a New York subway bathroom hurling, but I was almost surely as red as a tomato and was certainly going to wake up sore the next day.

“JJ?” Niall called, apparently finding his way in as well.

“You can’t go in there, young man!” Some woman called after him, but apparently Niall ignored her, because a moment later he was next to me in the stall, pulling my hair out of my face.

“Shhh, you’re okay, JJ,” he muttered, rubbing his hand up and down my back as I retched some more. Well, wasn’t this a Kodak moment?

When I had finished, I sat back, moaning. Niall fetched some wet paper towels and helped me wipe my face down, before pulling a water bottle out of his backpack.

“Here, drink this.”

I did as I was told, trying to get the taste of vomit out of my mouth.

“We should get you back to the hotel,” Niall said, wiping my face a bit more.

I had no energy to argue that he should continue on to Battery Park and I would find my own way back. All I wanted was to crawl back into bed and take copious amounts of Tylenol.

We got a taxi and headed back. Somehow, I managed not to get sick again until I was back in my room and could use my own, very clean, toilet. Niall was wonderful, as usual, drawing me a warm bath and ordering some stomach friendly foods from room service. He also called Paul and told him the situation, who in turn sent Carla up to my room. Carla was the tour medic who had been around for a while, though she never really had to deal with anything in regards to me or the boys.

Usually, she was helping the stage crew with minor bumps and bruises, as well as bandaging up Josh Devine’s hands when they blistered. Now she was here watching me puke my lungs out. Not a very glamorous job, I suppose.

When I finally felt well enough to leave the bathroom, over an hour later, Niall was still there, queuing up some good movies to watch on Pay Per View.

“Niall,” I said, wrapping myself in my bathrobe and crawling under the covers. “You should go. It’s a beautiful day, go enjoy it.”

He looked at me like I was nuts.

“You’re sick, I’m not leaving you.”

“But what if you get sick?” I asked, not wanting that on my conscious. I tried not to think about the amount of kissing that had gone on between Harry and I and hoped that he wasn’t somewhere with his head stuck in a toilet bowl, as well.

Niall merely shrugged. “I’ve got the immune system of an elephant, you know?”

“...but what does that even mean?”

Carla set out some medicine for me to take next to a bottle of Gatorade. “I think he’s okay, JJ. You don’t have any other symptoms, right? Just an stomach thing?”

“Well, yeah,” I nodded. I felt fine other than the nausea.

“Did you eat anything weird lately?” she questioned. “What did you get last night from the Thai place?”

“I didn’t eat Thai,” I responded. “I hate Thai.”

“What did you get then?”

“I got a sandwich from a Chicken Truck on the street.”

Niall rolled his eyes and gave me a placating smile. “JJ, you should know, you never get chicken from a Chicken Truck. You don’t get any type of meat ever from a Chicken Truck.”

My stomach gurgled in response and I leaned back against the headboard, willing the feeling away.
“Ugh. Great.”

“Food poisoning isn’t contagious,” Carla continued. “So, he’s safe.”

“Am I going to die?” I asked dramatically, and she chuckled.

“I doubt it.”

“Comforting, thanks.”

“Just drink a lot of liquid – no, no beer, Niall – and get some rest. It should be out of your system within a day or two.”

“It better be out before we fly,” I grumbled. Just imaging getting on that flight made me sick again. Niall grabbed a trashcan and held it up for me.

“It might be nice for him to stay,” Carla suggested when I had finished. “He could help you, you know.”

“No,” I said stubbornly, turning to Irishman. “It’s your day off. Go see the Statue of Liberty and have a nice day off. You can come hang out with pathetic old me when you get back.”

Niall went to argue, but clearly my glare was enough to convince him to leave. I gave him my camera to take along and soon both he and Carla were gone, leaving me alone in the quiet room with nothing but Pay Per View and a bucket of sick to keep me company. Lovely.

I slept for most of the day, waking up every once in a while to get sick (though there wasn’t really anything left in me to cough up). Liam, Danielle, and Zayn all stopped by when they returned to the hotel and yelled hello from the hallway. Apparently, Paul had told them all of my condition, and even though it was only food poisoning didn’t want them getting to close.

This was fine by me, as I was sure I looked like a complete troll, and would rather not see anyone. Eleanor stopped by too, and though she claimed she wanted to come in, she had a weak constitution and just the smell of vomit would make her throw up as well. So, that was fine. Plus, I knew she would try to bring up the Louis situation. My brother stopped by just long enough to make sure I wasn't actually dying, before disappearing. Considering the fight we had had, though, I took this as an improvement on our situation.

Harry eventually came back as well and strolled into my room, not at all carrying about Paul’s warning. I looked up at him from the bed where, just that morning, he had been trying to dry hump me in to waking up.

“You’re looking rough,” he commented, coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Why is your face so red?”

“Because all my blood vessels are broken,” I grumbled, not needing him to remind me. “Can you please leave? I don’t want people to see us together.”

“Don’t you think it would be even more noticeable if we were suddenly avoiding each other? Like, I think that would raise more questions.”

I frowned and chose not to reply. I hated it when he made sense.

I flipped through some channels, trying to pretend he wasn’t there and trying not to think about the night before, when we had been pressed together so tightly, and he had kissed his way up my neck and forced his tongue past my lips...oh, Christ.

Harry chuckled then, to himself, and I glanced over.

“What?”

He smiled casually, green eyes glinting with mischief.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking of getting something from the Pub down the street for dinner. Steak and kidney pie maybe.”

I stared at him, completely furious. But, I only had a moment to think of some angry words, before the thought of that meal became too much, before my throat tightened and my stomach lurched. I leapt out of bed, heading for the bathroom, his laughter ringing in my ears.

**

I spent much of that night, alone, sadly. All the others headed out to see a movie, while I stayed behind. Niall had offered to stay behind, but again, I felt to guilty about making him miss out on the film. Harry hadn’t even offered to stay, giving me a look that said, ‘this was what you wanted, wasn’t it?’.

The next day was much of the same. I hadn’t slept well, but I had wanted to try and get to the Saturday Night Live rehearsals, if at all possible. Unfortunately, I soon as I tried to eat something for breakfast, I just threw it back up, so Paul confined me to my hotel room.

Danielle, being the complete and utter sweetheart that she was, offered to stay behind to keep me company, and the selfish part of me wanted her to. But, this was her last day here and the last day she would spend with Liam for a few weeks. It wasn’t fair to ask her to stay behind with me.

So, around lunchtime, I was left alone. Niall, however, did stop by before leaving and give me my camera back.

“I took a ton of pictures and videos and things for you,” he said, smiling proudly. My heart swelled as I grinned at him, so thankful to have a friend like him. It was the little things that made him so absolutely amazing.

I watched Pawn Stars, Toddlers and Tiaras, Sister Wives, and some other abysmal American TV programming (actually, Pawns Stars was actually pretty good...who names someone Chumlee, though?) for much of the afternoon, before taking a nap. I was determined to stay up to watch the boys’ performance, as well as their iCarly episode, which was premiering this night as well.

iCarly, in all honestly, wasn’t the worst program out there. However, the acting by One Direction was pretty bad. I did giggle a bit at the butter sock though. I mean, really!

I texted Niall and Zayn a bit, as I waited for SNL to air, asking how their rehearsal was going, but didn’t get responses. Harry, however, did feel the need to send me a picture of him and Sophia Vergara, who was hosting that night. ‘Voluptuous’ doesn’t even really begin to describe her and I found myself looking down at my small breasts and feeling rather sorry for myself.

Bugger.

Tossing my phone away, I grabbed my computer and plugged in my camera, planning on looking through the pictures Niall had taken.

He was right, he had taken a ton of pictures. But he had also taken some videos – the first two were on accident and he had a three and then seven minute video of him chasing some pigeons around and giggling to himself. The first decent one was of him on a ferry as it made its way around Liberty Island. He narrated the journey, making funny little observations about the other tourists that were there and even asking some of them to tell me to feel better.

I smiled as I watched them all, thoroughly entertained by Niall just being...well, Niall. There was a video of him dancing along to a street drummer, before dropping a one hundred dollar bill into the man’s hat; there was another video from the Top of the Rock, looking over all of Manhattan just as the sun started to set.

“Well, this is just gorgeous,” Niall narrated. “Wish you could see this, JJ. Well, I mean, I guess you are, but in person. Don’t worry, though, I’ll bring you back.”

My cheeks were hurting from the amount of smiling I did. As I finished the last video (filmed back in the hotel, where Zayn was apparently attempting to be an ostrich/velociraptor/thing and was running down the hallway, screeching), I knew I wanted to thank him. Unfortunately, my phone was across the room now and I was fucking lazy, so, I tweeted him instead. I didn’t care what the fans or Louis or anyone thought.

@NiallOfficial – Just watched the videos. Thanks, Nialler. They made me feel so much better. Good luck tonight, you’ll be amazing! xx

Then, I settled in to watch SNL. And I must say, I have never laughed to hard in my life. It is one thing to see something funny, but it’s another thing entirely to see your best friends make absolute fools of themselves on national television.

Dressing One Direction up as Mexicans was hysterical and I was snorting in laughter by the end of their brief skit. The fact that I wasn’t expecting made it even better. Then, their performance...just, wow. I tried not to let it show, but they never failed to impress me and I couldn’t help but be incredibly proud. This was their life now and they were just so fucking amazing.

A few hours later, I woke up when my bed shifted and a body curled up next to mine.

“Mmm,” I hummed happily, snuggling into the warm chest as a pair of arms wrapped themselves around me.

“Everyone is going out,” Harry murmured to me, burying his face in my hair. “I told them you were asleep.”

“I am asleep,” I mumbled, not opening my eyes.

“This way they won’t bother us,” he replied and I stiffened slightly. Harry must have felt this, because he chuckled slightly. “Keep in your pants, JJ. I just want to cuddle, don’t be such a slag.”

Had my eyes been open, I would have rolled them. Instead, I settled in. “You did really well tonight.”

“Thanks, love. We missed you there, though.”

“Did you?” I asked, thinking of the picture he sent. “It looked like Sophia kept you company.”

I could almost hear Harry smirking. “Jealous, are we?”

“No,” I grumbled, turning over, so my back was to him.

He chuckled softly. “Come here, you.” He pulled me back into him and tightened his grip on me, before nodding off.

I smiled slightly, trying to shake the uneasiness I was feeling.

I forced my mind to go blank and took a deep breath, before nodding off to sleep. Tomorrow, Australia.