(chapter ii is private. please go read or follow the instructions to receive my private chapters before continuing on)

harry

Niall leaves early the next morning, claiming that his mother will kill him if he misses school. I tried to convince him to stay for awhile, just so I could touch him the way we touched last night again, but it's not like me to keep one from their education. I only requested one thing; that he kissed me hard before he left. He mentioned my sly Lana Del Rey reference. I then told him that I've met her, and that she's a lovely woman to surround oneself with.

After that, I kind of just looked around my house, trying to figure out something else to do. I didn't have a show until three days from now, no meetings...I'm a free man today. One day of three hundred and sixty five days, I am free.

I wasn't prepared for a beauty such as Niall to take over me. I look at my wall, and Niall pops up in my head. Look at my Grammys? His comment regarding them makes its way back into my head.

Maybe I should do some shopping; that will get my mind off of him for awhile. New clothes, and a new atmosphere to breathe. Who knows the next time I'll see him? Damn, I probably should have gotten his number before he left.

But in the end, I guess we're better off apart. My life moves too fast for him; it would drive him to insanity. I signed up for this; he didn't.

With that I prepare to go out, heading up to my room. I spent the night in my guest room, and find myself missing it (being my own bedroom) slightly. Shivers crawl up my spine as painfully pleasing memories of Niall's delicate hands racing up and down my skin replay in my mind. He's simply inescapable.

"Okay," I mutter to myself, "clothes. I have to find clothes."

I pass the guest room without another glance, entering my master bedroom and looking out at the magnificent view the sky had laid out for me this morning. Each day, the sky manages to paint itself with various colors around my house. I can only see them outside of the balcony in my master bedroom. This is why I personally love this room; other than the fact that my bed resides here.

"Clothes clothes clothes," I repeat the word, trying to stay on task as I look for a suitable outfit for a day out on the town. A little tight, but a little comfort. Jeans and a sweater? God, it's as if I don't have a sense of style after Niall walked out.

Everything (mentally at least) was fine before Niall walked in. My mind replays the moments we shared in black and white; the light yet rough touches, the soft yet passionate kisses, and his beautiful, yet dangerously corrupt moans and whimpers.

"Shit..." I whisper, hanging my head back in agony as I settle for black jeans and a flannel. I can't stand this constant ghost of Niall's presence that keeps haunting me. His words keeps playing in this repetitive tone, and the song is stuck in my head.

Daddy, God I'm so horny for you now Daddy...

Please Daddy, fuck me please...

I feel myself tightening in my boxers, a whine escaping my lips as I reach down to readjust myself through my joggers. God he's just so hot, I can't get him off my brain.

I walk out of my closet, taking off my pants and sliding down my boxers. My heart is pounding out of my chest as I stop blocking out thoughts of Niall, letting my hands travel down to where I'm throbbing.

"God," I whisper, "you're making me hard, even when you're not around."

And now I'm talking to this figment of my imagination.

Tugging at my length, I sigh and close my eyes, laying back on my bed as the night plays itself out in front of me. His fantastic ass in those tight little maroon panties, his irresistible milky thighs standing prominent before me like they were last night.

"Mm...I fucking need you baby," I whisper, imaging it's Niall milking my length instead of myself. I hum, squeezing my eyes shut as I remember just how great it felt being inside him. That sickeningly pleasuring tightness that took me over last night.

"Fuck," my voice cracks and to my surprise, I'm cumming all over myself; quicker than I expected. It's as if I had completely skipped the build-up, the tingling in my abdomen; I just went straight to the ejaculating.

Was I that into it?

I shake my head, going to clean myself up and get ready for my day out. Along the way, I decide to call up one of my close friends, Zayn Malik.

WESTFIELD MALL: 12:08PM

"I mean come on, I told the girl like fifteen times that giving out my number is just something I don't do. What, you think I give a flying fuck is Kevin Jonas does it? No!"

I chuckle as Zayn rants on about his latest outing, running into a couple fans that were a bit too, personal in a sense. He as well is big in the music industry, but as I'm invested in the indie rock style, he's more into R&B. His sensual smooth voice suits the style of music he wants to thrive in. Alongside me, our successes come in large numbers. I know for a fact that he has at least 10 Grammys (why the Grammy count is so important to me, not sure), and we both climb pretty high up on the celebrity scale. It's hard for us to be in the same place together, but sometimes, we pull it off.

"I have the same problem," I shrug, "what can you do, honestly? We know at this point of the game that it's basically a given; no phone numbers."

He chuckles, rolling his eyes as we step into Topman. A couple workers' eyes widen at the sight of us and I slip my sunglasses on my face as Zayn begins to look through a rack of t-shirts.

"I guess," he agrees, "so tell me, you look pretty erm...sexed out."

"Pretty what?" I ask, a blush rising on my cheeks.

"Who'd you fuck last night?" he asks me again quietly, a smirk arising on his face.

"How can you even tell?!"

"You have this glossy eyed look," Zayn murmurs, "and you have a hat on. You never wear hats."

I groan, running my hand over my face as he stands firmly in front of me, waiting for an answer.

"If I tell you, don't mention it, yeah?"

"You're talking to me Harry."

"Okay," I sigh, "so there's a guy--you know--"

"I know you're gay."

"Okay, so yesterday I went to a club, and I met this seventeen year old kid Zayn. Seventeen. He's in the club, sipping martinis and showing off his legs for whoever the hell wants a look at 'em. Then he gets drunk, I take him home instead of leaving him, and then we have sex. Insanely hot sex."

"Damn," he says, "it looks like you had a good time."

"What, can you tell that by my breathing?"

"Shut up," he laughs, "are you hungry?"

"Sure," I shrug, "but we should at least look in some more stores."

He nods, and we leave Topman, sunglasses perched on top of our noses as we walk past the still starstruck workers. At least they'll have a story to tell when they get home.

"So do you think you'll see him again?" Zayn asks curiously and my eyes widen. I only hope I'll see him again. With all these uncensored thoughts, I'm going to eventually need the real thing again.

"Yeah," I nod, "hopefully. I can't get him out of my head as it is."

"When you start masturbating to the thought of him, that's when you know you're gonna need him again."

"Uh..."

"Oh god. Don't tell me."

"This morning."

"You're fucked."

"Wow Zayn, thanks for the support; really."

"I meant it though? You've gotta see him."

"He's a seventeen year old in secondary school. I can't seek him out, you know? I want him to come to me if he wants to. His comfort is what matters."

"Well what happened when he left the next morning?"

"He said he'd find his own way to school," I say, "I offered to give him a ride as we were getting dressed but he just kept insisting..."

"Maybe he was uncomfortable? I mean, does he know who you are?"

"Yeah, he figured it out. But I hardly doubt that's why. He isn't a fan of me."

"He isn't a groupie?"

"Seems not. He said most of the girls in his school like me, but it's just not his style to follow the crowd like so."

"Mmm, so he's a wannabe groupie."

"More like an independent soul."

"S'endearing...you should look into it, no matter how illegal it is."

"I know it is," I sigh, "I need to find out when his birthday is. That's when he's legal."

"Yeah, wouldn't want a predator or anything."

"Like you?"

He shoves me lightly as we pass the ice skating rink and I take off my hat, fixing my hair underneath it. He knows I'm kidding; Zayn is too perfect to be considered (or be in general) a child predator. He stops to watch the children fool around and about with their parents.

"Do you ever wish you could be a kid again?"

"Yes, but I also wish I wasn't tied in all these...chains."

"Your management needs to loosen up or lose you. They're unfair to you."

"I have two more albums with them," I sigh, "then I sign off, and I can do what I please."

"I'm sorry man."

"You don't need to apologize. Unless you work with them to ruin my life, all you've done is be my friend."

"Being your friend is a chore Harry."

"You little--"

"Harry! Zayn!"

We both turn around, our attention on the hoard of girls coming our way. Zayn flips his sunglasses down on his face immediately, smiling as the fans surround us.

"I knew we would find you!" One girl squeals and my eyes widen. How long have they been looking for us?

"Well you found us!" Zayn grins and goes in for the picture. I shrug, posing with them as well as they snap the picture. They stop to look at their phones, squealing quietly until another girl groans.

"What, Amberlynn?"

"It's fucking Niall," she (being Amberlynn) chuckles, rolling her eyes, "someone just tweeted about him."

My eyes widen at the sound of his name. It's uncommon to hear in these parts. Could they be talking about my Niall?

"Uh, pardon girls," I say, "what's the matter?"

Zayn eyes me but I shake him off.

"This kid Niall Horan in our school," she laughs, and I have to hold back my anguish, "he works at a strip club LONELY at nights. He's a such a whore."

All of them begin to laugh maniacally and I immediately conclude they are definitely talking about my Niall.

"Come on," I say, grabbing Zayn's arm, "we have to go."

"Wait! Can we have individuals?!"

I ignore the rude girls, walking quickly as we pass through a couple hallways and head to the food court, where Zayn originally wanted to go.

"Was that your Niall?"

"Yes, and they were impeccably rude to him." I snort, "They're lucky they got a photo in general."

"He's a dancer?"

"I didn't know that when we met. Then again...he was in panties--"

"That doesn't make him a dancer," Zayn reminds me, "he could wear them and be a good kid with a naughty side."

"I know they were talking about him Zayn," I repeat, "it may have been just one night, but I feel this tug at my heartstrings every time he's mentioned or around. So much to a point that I know when it happens. His voice is this constant melody in my mind and--"

"Okay okay," Zayn holds his hands up, "I get the idea yeah, but make sure you're not scaring him or anything."

"How can I scare him, if he was the one coming to me?"

"I dunno; he may have been high."

"Zayn I highly doubt he was high."

"Whatever," he shrugs with a cheeky smirk, "where do you wanna eat?"

"Mm...Prezzo maybe?"

"Really? Don't you get recognized there a lot?"

"It's worth it for the food," I roll my eyes, "let's go. I hope they have a table."

"I swear," Zayn rolls his eyes, "sometimes you forget who you are. You could literally ask for a table and they'd give it to you in a heartbeat."

"That's rude Zayn, you know me. I'd rather wait than take someone else's table. Remember, I don't use my fame. We talked about this."

"Fine," he groans, "we'll wait then. Do you want some advice on this kid?"

"He isn't a kid."

"He is, you just fucked him, so you're trying to think of him as an adult. But listen; if you want at least a chance to see him again, I suggest you go to LONELY tonight."

"Really? But--"

"Stop being so afraid of your management. Go to the strip club."

"I've never heard anyone encourage anyone to go to a strip club."

"Well, I'm encouraging you now."

I nod, confidence and adrenaline surging through my veins. Yes, it's a dumb thing to do, but I'm twenty three. I'm still, young. I want to do stupid things before I can't afford to do them now. One would say that time for me is now in my circumstance, but I can't find a will in the world to give a shit.

I rarely have flings (unless they're publicity stunts), and for once in my life, I feel something with someone. Whether it be a night later after sex, that doesn't change the fact that he hasn't left my mind. I've had my fair share of one nights stands at a young age. I would forget about them and move on to the next one the next day.

But not this time. Not with Niall.

"I'm going to LONELY tonight."

"Hell yeah you are."

OUTSIDE OF LONELY: 9:53PM

My collar feels tight, though it's barely tight up against my neck. My collar is actually laying against my collarbones as my shirt remains half unbuttoned. My nerves are all directed towards the fact that Niall doesn't know I'm here, or, looking for him. I know it's silly to think this way, but what if it was really meant to be just a one night stand? What if I'm simply chasing the wind instead of him? What if he isn't even running, and I'm overthinking this whole thing?

"Mr. Styles?"

I turn abruptly to the bouncer that seems to have recognized me by my face. How long have I been standing here drowning in my own thoughts?

"Uh y-yes?"

"You seem a bit jumpy?"

"No," I say firmly, straightening myself and reverting back to my cool and confident composure, "I'm anything but jumpy, thank you. I'm here to see someone."

"Then please," he says, moving away from the door he's heavily guarding, "be my guest."

"Thank you..." I mumble, moving past him and into the dimly lit club. The air smells of weed and despair, But the large club itself is extremely clean, to my surprise. Everything is white, from the seats to the stage. I watch as girls and boys dressed in little to no clothing wrap themselves around poles as people do what they usually do in strip clubs; throw money.

But this club seems to be more high end than the typical strip club scene. It has me curious as to where they have Niall. I scan the row of people dancing for his familiar face, but I can't make it out. Instead, I move up further. I see a girl with long flowing blonde hair send me a wink, but I look away because I happen to like Niall's blonde with just a bit of brunette in the roots.

Another boy, another girl, another wink, another blown kiss, and just like that I'm through the line of dancers. Some Drake song blasts through the speakers as those same dancers gyrate around the rainbow colored poles for the people overseeing them.

But I don't fucking see Niall anywhere.

"Maybe this wasn't the same Niall..." I mumble, preparing to leave. Turning and adjusting my shirt, I don't see a tall man practically sprint into me. I go down like a bowling pin, almost rolling down the walkway headfirst until he grabs my leg that flailed in front of him.

I can definitely say that Niall makes me the smoothest I've ever been.

"I'm so sorry sir--Harry? Harry Styles?"

"I--yes?"

His small grin suddenly breaks out into a wide psychotic one, and I back up knowingly. He's either going to drag me somewhere to do something with him, jump on me, or ask for an autograph for his kid.

"This is amazing. An A-List celebrity in LONELY, now when I least expect it? Would you like a private show?!"

Dear God.

"I really should be going," I say quickly, trying to avoid the situation he's trying to insert me into. I only have eyes for Niall right now. I don't need to think about another boy or girl dancing atop of me. "I was just looking for someone--my friend, and he's not here so--"

"Well there's no beauty in that Mr. Styles," he continues, "it isn't what you're looking for. It's what you're bound to discover."

"I..."

"Don't worry about paying; it's on the house. I'll set you up with my best dancer."

"Okay..." I mumble, my cheeks burning red, "what's her--"

"His, name, is classified. He doesn't like anyone knowing his private information; it makes him that much more endearing," he sighs, "if I wasn't so much older than him, I would shag him in seconds."

And something about what he says makes me want to turn around and punch him in the face. But he seems to be nice otherwise, so I leave our conversation at a standstill as he opens a door to a slightly brighter room. A white chair sits in the center of the room, as it has a single light in the black walled room. A pole also stands in front of the chair, giving me an incredible view.

"He'll come out from behind," he says quietly, "so don't like, scream or anything when you hear the curtains open."

"Oh, okay then." I respond, and he wishes me a good show before vanishing through the doorway. I sigh, adjusting myself in the awkwardly placed white chair before taking out my phone and preparing a quick text to Zayn. Part of me wants this to go quickly, because I still need to search for Niall. He may not be here, but maybe somewhere else?

"What'll it be?" I hear a voice from behind the curtains as a body emerges, "a lap dance, something else more to--"

A gasp escapes the boy's lips and my phone falls out of my hand as my eyes meet with the notorious electrifying cerulean oceans I know I've drowned in once before.

It seems as if my search has ended.

soooo...what do you think is gonna happen next?
idk a schedule for this book yet, but the chapters are pretty lengthy so.