Archive of Our Own

Late June, 2014- Milan, Italy. Adrianna's POV

“ASHTON! HURRY THE FUCK UP! I NEED TO PISS!”

I flinched at the sound of the oh so familiar loud screech that was Michael's voice before pulling my earbuds out. 

“Michael, for the love of god, lower your voice.”

“Or what?” He narrowed his eyes from his place by the hotel bathroom door.

“Or I'm getting Liz.” I warned simply, knowing that threat always worked. 

Michael’s expression faltered like I’d just threatened to tell on him to the Pope himself. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Touring the world in a band with four boys meant I’d basically surrendered my right to peace and quiet. Personal space? Gone. Volume control? A fantasy. Between shared hotel rooms, questionable hygiene habits, zero privacy, an obscene amount of penis jokes, and enough chaotic energy to power a small city, this was my normal. I loved them- god help me- but sometimes it felt like I was the only functioning semi-adult in a very loud, very stupid traveling circus.

He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Ash! Can you not take forty-five-minute long showers? I’m dying out here!”

From behind the bathroom door, Ashton’s muffled voice floated out, calm and unbothered. “Self-care is important, mate!”

Michael smacked the door with his palm. “So is my…bladder care?” He looked at me for help clearing up…whatever it is he meant, but I couldn’t help laughing, flopping back onto my bed and watching the early afternoon light pour through the open curtains. The Milan skyline shimmered beyond the balcony- old and elegant and way too classy for the chaos that was our hotel room.

Clothes were everywhere, Calum’s bass case was open on the floor, Luke’s laptop was half-buried under snack wrappers, and my leather jacket hung off the TV stand. Do I remember putting it there? No. Not at all.

We were supposed to be getting ready to explore the city- grab espresso, maybe hit a few record stores, get souvenirs, and eat some gelato all before we leave tomorrow- but the guys moved slower than dial-up internet.

These past few days have been wild in the best way possible. After opening for the 1D boys in San Siro and watching them film all of that for their movie, we had a huge fan event outside of the Duomo for our '5 Cities In 5 Days' mini-tour. Insane idea, we know. It was so surreal to see that huge crowd of fans just singing our songs in the street.

But obviously because of that, we hadn't really gotten the chance to actually see Milan.

Luke walked out from the adjoining room, scrolling through his phone. “Hey, mum says if we’re going out, we’ve got to leave now. She wants us back before dinner.”

Michael groaned again. “Of course she does. She knows we’re pretty much adults, not toddlers, right?”

I raised a brow. “You just yelled about needing to pee like one.”

Calum snorted from where he sat on his bed, tuning a guitar. “She’s got a point.”

Michael pointed at me dramatically. “Traitor.”

“Truth-teller,” I countered, grabbing my sunglasses from the nightstand, and shoving them in my purse.

Finally, the bathroom door opened and Ashton stepped out in a cloud of steam, towel slung low on his hips, hair wild. “Alright, I’m done. Happy?”

Michael shoved past him with a muttered, “Ecstatic,” and slammed the door behind him.

Ashton blinked, then grinned at us, bewildered. “He’s been like this all morning?”

“Yes.”

“Obviously.” Luke commented.

Cal chimed in, “He has a shockingly weak bladder.”

We heard Michael hiss, “Thank fuck,” loudly as the sound of his...stream hitting the water started. Ugh.

And as his voice echoed dramatically through the bathroom door- something about the sweet relief of freedom- Ashton collapsed onto the edge of the bed Cal was on.

He then blinked at us, totally unbothered. “So,” he said, rubbing at his hair with another towel. “I was thinking- this time, we walk to the Duomo.”

I stared at him. “Walk?”

“Yeah.” He grinned, all sunshine and dimples. “It’s the best way to see the city.”

“Or,” I countered, “we could take a car like normal people who value their feet.”

Calum smirked. “What Garcia, you scared of a little cardio?”

“No, Hood. Scared of sweating through my eyeliner,” I said flatly. “There’s a difference.”

Luke chimed in, still looking at his phone. “It’s only, like, a thirty-minute walk according to this.”

I groaned, flopping dramatically onto my bed. “That’s thirty minutes there, Lu. And then thirty minutes back.”

Ashton crossed his arms, mock stern. “C’mon, Ads. You’ll survive.”

“No,” I said. “Not unless one of you carries me when I inevitably collapse from heatstroke.”

“Fine,” Ashton said immediately, grinning. “I’ll carry you.”

That made me pause and furrow my brow- he was giving in way too easily. “Really?”

“Yeah, sure,” He said leisurely. “And if I get tired, Luke can take over. Then Calum. Then Mikey.”

From the bathroom, Michael’s voice echoed: “Absolutely not! She's a scratcher!”

I smirked. “Alright, deal.”

Ashton looked triumphant. “So it’s settled. Walking it is.”

I sighed and shook his hand. “You’re lucky I like you, Irwin.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” He responded way too smugly.

I rolled my eyes and mumbled “Gross.” as I stood up and walked towards the adjoining room, and when I was halfway to the door when I glanced back and froze, raising a brow. “Oh, uh, Ashton?”

He looked up. “Yeah?”

“Your dick’s out.”

His eyes went wide as he immediately looked down- then realized his towel was still perfectly in place.

I grinned. “Made ya look.”

Calum burst out laughing while Luke groaned, “Every time, dude.”

Ashton shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “You’re the worst.”

“I know,” I said with a fake sense of sweetness, “Alright, hurry up. All of you! I want me some gelato.” 

__________________________

“Holy fuck, why is Italy so hot?” Michael groaned, dragging his feet as we trudged down the narrow street.

“Because it’s the middle of summer and we’re in Europe, Mike- and holy hell, these sneakers suck so much ass.” I glared down at my worn-out canvas Vans, the soles practically slapping the pavement with each step.

Calum spun around mid-stride, walking backward now. “Wait- are we going to the gift shop first or the Duomo?” His camera swung from the strap around his neck as he tried to reorient himself, realizing we hadn't really figured out a structure to our excursion, like at all.

“Um, hang on,” Luke took out his phone and the mini map he got at the airport, “okay so…we are- wait- um-” He started turning the piece of paper every which way, squinting in confusion.

I cut in, “You know how to read a map right?”

“Yes, Adrianna, I know how to read a map.” He snapped in a cliche valley-girl accent, craning his head down to me.

“Okay, don't sass me breadstick, damn.”

Michael let out another dramatic noise from behind me. “Can you just hurry the fuck up and Google an address so we can get out of this sweltering heat?”

Ashton, who’d been hovering at the back of the group, finally piped up. “Guys-”

But Calum cut him off, stepping closer to Mike with a squint. “Christ, Mike, did you forget to put on sunblock again? You’re turning into a tomato, mate.” He raised his camera and snapped two quick pictures before Michael could swat him away.

Michael slapped a hand to his face and wilted. “Wha- oh…shit.”

“Michael- god…” I sighed, stopping long enough to dig through my purse. “We’ve been over this so many times-”

He backed up immediately. “Wait- no no no! Wait-”

But I already had the sunscreen in my palm.

“You are way too pale to fight me on this. Michael Gordon, you do not want to get sunburnt and you know it. Calum, help me.” I jerked my chin toward Mike.

Calum stepped in behind him and gently grabbed his elbows to keep him from flailing. “Hold still, mate.”

Mike shook his head like a wet dog. “No, it’s so gross feeling- no! Pffft-” He sputtered as I tried to smear sunscreen over his cheeks and nose.

“God,” Calum said, grunting as Mike tried to wiggle free, “you’re acting like a squirmy little kid.”

While they wrestled, Luke groaned from a few feet ahead, apparently now he'd finally figured out where we were on the map. “Shit. You guys, we’re going the wrong way.”

“Oh c’mon, Luke!” Calum barked, letting go of Michael just long enough to stride to Luke and snatch the map out of his hands.

I threw my arms up, still holding the sunscreen. “You mean we walked all this way for nothing?”

“We’ve walked like, ten minutes, Adie,” Luke argued, running a hand through his quaffed hair. “And I’m doing my best, okay? I mean, when we came here for the event, we had a driver so-”

Michael started patting his pockets frantically. “Fuck this, I’m calling a cab. It’s so hot, Luke doesn’t know where the fuck we’re going and-”

“What? Yes, I do! This map was just upside down!” 

“Ooh, guys, look at that sick-ass motorcycle!” Calum suddenly yelled, already raising his camera again and completely abandoning the map, which he shoved into my hands without looking.

“Wha- bro don't hand this to me!”

“And also-”

“HEY!” Ash finally broke out and said, grabbing our attention.

“You guys seriously need to chill and look around,” He said, this soft smile tugging at his lips. “Like- actually look. We’re walking through Milan. Milan. Two days after we opened for One Direction in San freaking Siro. The place they filmed their concert movie. And we just had a sea of fans show up for us and our album outside of one of the most gorgeous cathedrals in the world for our event. That's insane.”

We all instinctively paused.

Michael’s mouth closed mid-complaint.

Luke looked up from his phone.

Calum even lowered the camera and blinked like he was really seeing the city for the first time.

I took in the narrow street, warm stone buildings, laundry hanging off balconies, the smell of espresso drifting out of a café whose tiny tables spilled onto the sidewalk, the cool almost vintage looking motorcycles Calum couldn’t stop taking pictures of. A busker strummed a guitar nearby, melody dancing on the air.

And Ashton kept going, voice quieter and earnest now. “Someday this is all gonna be a story,” He said. “And I don’t wanna look back and realize we spent more time whining than living it.”

We all went silent.

Even me.

Because sometimes Ashton said stuff like that- stuff that hit you right in the chest when you least expected it.

Calum broke the quiet first, nudging him lightly with his elbow. “Alright, dad.”

Ashton laughed, but he didn’t deny it.

Luke shifted beside me, eyes on the cobblestones. “He’s right though.”

Michael sighed dramatically. “Ugh. Fine. I’ll shut up and appreciate the beauty of Milan or whatever.”

“You better,” Ashton teased. He reached for the map in my hands. “Now give me that- you people are hopeless.”

__________________________

By the time we reached the row of souvenir stalls near the piazza, the sun was blazing and Michael looked like he’d aged three years.

Without warning, I stopped walking and threw my arms out dramatically. “I’m dying. One of you- carry me.”

Calum snorted. “Absolutely not.”

Luke didn’t even look up. “Nope.”

Ashton sighed the sigh of a man who had accepted his fate years ago. “Alright, fine. I agreed to this in the first place. Get on.”

I grinned and immediately climbed onto his back like a koala. He quickly lifted me with zero enthusiasm but full resignation.

Michael pointed accusingly. “Why does she always end up getting carried and not me?”

“Because she won’t scream in my ear or kick me in the ribs,” Ashton said. “You? Liability.”

“I will get princess treatment one day, you fucker.” Michael declared to the sky.

“Can we just, like, not?” I scolded as I motioned to our surroundings, prompting him to lower his voice at least twenty notches while we were in public.

We wandered into a cramped little shop crammed with Milan magnets, snow globes, and T-shirts that definitely weren’t licensed.

“Oooh,” I said, pointing from Ashton’s back. “Look, Mikey! That figurine looks like you when you run out of Red Bull.”

Michael squinted. “Where?!”

I pointed again. He groaned. “Wow. Super rude. Accurate, but rude.”

"Wait guys- why is the Duomo bubblegum pink in this?” Luke said, holding up a little figurine.

“Tourist bait,” Calum replied, grabbing eight leather bracelets he absolutely didn’t need.

“And clearly it's working. I'm so buying that.” I added with shameless excitement.

Ashton shifted me slightly on his back. “Adie, you’re gonna knock over a shelf with your giant head.”

“Excuse me,” I said, smacking the back of his shoulder. “My head is proportionate and adorable.”

“Debatable,” He muttered.

I flicked his ear.

He yelped. “OW- she’s assaulting me!”

Calum choked on a laugh. “This is why people think we have no adult supervision.”

Michael was at the shot-glass rack now, holding two with the Italian flag painted on. “Guys, look! I’m buying these for my mum. She’ll love them.”

I raised a brow. “She rarely ever drinks.”

“They’ll be decorative!” He insisted.

Luke rolled his eyes. “Right. ‘Cause that's totally what shot glasses are for.”

Ashton stopped near a stand of tiny postcards. “We should get some for the crew.”

“Good idea,” I said. “Grab like…ten.”

Ashton stared at me. “I’m carrying you. You grab them.”

“I can’t reach,” I said, leaning forward over his shoulders trying to get a hold of cards.

“STOP DOING THAT,” He hissed, trying not to drop me. “Your center of gravity is not my friend!”

Calum looked over with a smirk. “Yeah, Ads, stop destabilizing the pack mule.”

“I’m not a pack mule,” Ashton argued.

“You’re literally carrying someone,” Luke replied.

“Okay, but-”

“Pack. Mule.” Luke finished.

I patted Ashton’s head like he was a Golden Retriever. “You’re doing great, champ.”

He groaned in defeat.

After a while we were just browsing the place and suddenly, a trio of girls drifted into the shop- clearly doing touristy things but clearly local too, judging by the mix of Milanese fashion sense and the way they murmured to each other in rapid Italian. At first, they barely glanced our way.

Then one froze.

Then the second.

Then the third grabbed the first one’s wrist so hard she squeaked.

** “Oh mio dio…” The first whispered. “È…sono loro? È…5SOS?”

Michael perked up instantly. “We’ve been spotted,” He stage-whispered, looking both excited and panicked.

Luke straightened, suddenly pretending he wasn’t holding a bag full of gift shop trinkets. “Oh! Uhhh, ciao?” He offered, in an accent that could only be described as Australian trying so very hard.

The girls lit up. “Ciao! Um- can we take a picture with you guys?” One asked, bouncing slightly.

“Yes! Hell yeah, of course!” Michael said, nodding way too enthusiastically.

Ashton immediately jolted, realizing he was still carrying me like a toddler koala. “Oh- Nope, nope- Adie, off.”

“But I’m comfy!” I protested, clinging harder.

“This cannot be immortalized on the internet,” Ashton hissed. “I don’t need more fanfiction being written about any of us.”

“You know what? Fair,” I said quickly, hopping down. “Though honestly, being featured in fanfiction with me at all should be considered an honor, Ash.”

Ashton groaned. “You’re impossible.” 

I just waved him off.

They landed beside him, smoothing down their shirts as he leaned over to greet them with a hug. “Hi! Ciao! Yes, we can absolutely take pictures. Come on over. Were you guys, by any chance, able to come to the fan event this week or-”

“Yes! We did! It was so fun.”

“Very fun!”

“Oh, good. I'm so glad to hear that!”

One of the girls gasped when I walked over. “Adie! We love your voice!"

“Oh my god, grazie!” I said, cheeks warming. “Your jacket is adorable, by the way.”

She beamed like I’d just handed her a Grammy. 

They lined up for photos- one with all of us and one where they insisted on a silly pose. 

Luke, then went bashfully warm- soft smile, pink cheeks- when one of the girls said to him, “Uh- your Italian is really good,” 

He scratched the back of his neck. “Oh- uh- grazie? I only know, like, five words. And two of them are food.”

She giggled. Luke giggled. It was a whole giggle fest.

Michael, on the other hand, turned the charm to eleven with zero shame.

“You have very cool glasses,” He told one girl, leaning slightly closer and grinning. “Molto stylish. Molto…uh…‘fashiono’?”

“That’s not a word,” Calum muttered.

The girl just laughed and touched his arm lightly. Michael looked painfully proud and- ew, did he just flex a bit- goddammit Clifford.

Another one of the girls told him she liked his hair and he said “Yeah? I did it myself. I guess you could just call me ‘Michelangelo’.” He gestured dramatically.

The girl blinked. “Michelangelo painted. He didn’t…do hair.”

“Yeah but look at me,” Michael said, posing. “I’m basically a masterpiece anyway.” She flushed and nodded at that.

The last girl pointed at the bag in my hand that held the cursed pink Duomo figurine. “È carino! That's so cute.”

“Right?” I said. “It’s aggressively pink. It was calling to me.”

“She has terrible taste,” Ashton said under his breath.

“I have excellent taste in everything...but bandmates,” I shot back.

The fans burst into laughter.

Meanwhile Michael was somehow still flirting, still smiling, still telling the girls he was “molto italiano this week” because he’d eaten gelato twice.

Eventually, the fans thanked us, blew kisses, and slipped back into the street still giggling.

“Ciao bellas!” Mike called out.

“Bye-bye!” Cal waved.

And then the little shop settled into its previous cramped chaos.

Ashton exhaled and turned to us with an accomplished grin. “They were really nice! And that went really well. Now, if I had been photographed giving you a piggyback…”

“It would’ve been adorable,” I said, popping a hip.

“It would’ve been traumatizing,” He corrected, dead serious.

Michael sighed dreamily. “I think I might need a hot Italian girlfriend.” 

“Nah, I think you just need to cool it, mate.” Calum countered, smacking him over the head.

Luke still looked subtly proud of himself. “Do you think they thought I sounded cool when I said ‘ciao’?”

Ashton patted his shoulder. “Buddy…nobody thinks you sound cool.”

“Wh- Not even a little?” Luke asked, wounded.

“I thought you sounded lovely, Hemmo” I said, walking past him to finally grab a stack of postcards. “Michael, on the other hand-”

“-is a total dreamboat. I agree, Adie,” Michael said, cutting me off with a self-satisfied preen.

“Barf.” I gagged theatrically. “What you are is a liability.” I joked as we walked to the back of the shop, giving everything a quick scan before we went to pay.

I got back on Ashton’s back and Cal led us through the streets with his phone in hand while Mike and Luke carried our bags.

“Unbelievable,” Ash muttered, hooking his arms under my legs again as he straightened. “You know the other boys could take a turn with you right? Like, that is an option.”

“You love it,” I sang.

“No,” Ne said instantly. “But apparently my future chiropractor will.”

__________________________

Afterwards, we scoured a couple more stores and took a tour of the Duomo- which is probably one of the most beautiful places we've ever been to. We took some pictures, strolled a bit more, and soon enough it was time to head back to the hotel to clean up for dinner.

“Mumma! We're back!” Luke called out as we walked into one of our hotel rooms.

“And we come bearing gifts!” Cal added.

I sighed and kicked off my shoes. “Okay, I'm sweaty, I'm gonna go take a shower.”

“In the big bathroom or the little one?” Mike asked me with a cautious look on his face.

“...The big one, obviously. Why?”

“Because you take even longer showers than Ashton sometimes and the shower in the little bathroom is right next to the toilet and I don't wanna be getting cleaned up listening to Calum's stream. That's why.” 

We both eyed the bathroom door like it was a ticking time bomb. Then-

“I call dibs!” Mike shouted, launching himself at the door like a linebacker.

“The fuck you do!” I yelled, sprinting after him, practically tackling him. We collided shoulder-first and went sliding across the carpet, arms and legs flailing like we were in a cartoon.

“Guys, don’t run- ugh, nevermind,” Ashton muttered, flopping onto the bed with a dramatic groan, clearly too exhausted to intervene.

I grabbed his arm to stop him, but he twisted, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me down on top of him. We wrestled wildly, his legs kicking mine and my arms flopping as I tried to pin him.

Finally, I managed to pin his arms above his head while straddling him, though both of us were still squirming.

“Step away from the bathroom, or I swear-” I warned, laughing through my struggle.

Mike smirked up at me, eyebrows raised. “You know…I’ve had dreams that start like this.”

I froze, cringing. “Ew, ew, ew! Michael!” I waved my hands frantically in front of my face.

He wiggled under me, laughing. “Fine, fine! You win this round, but I’m coming for you next time!”

I rolled my eyes, got up, dusted off my hands like a champion, and strutted toward the big bathroom, triumphant, while Mike flopped dramatically behind me.

Once I was done with my 20 minute shower, I threw on a comfy robe and stepped out to find everyone picking out outfits for dinner.

I opted for a shirt-and-skirt combo, pairing it with some big chunky boots for a little edge.

“Are you all about done?” Liz asked, grabbing her purse.

Luke fluffed his hair for the millionth time, “Almost mum!”

“Just about Liz.” Cal tied his shoes.

“Which cologne do I wear?” Ash asked, holding up two glass bottles.

“The red one. It makes you smell expensive, and that other one makes you smell like a forty-year-old man at a gas station.” I responded while applying my lipstick.

Ashton stared at the two bottles like he was genuinely offended. “Gas station? Really?”

I capped my lipstick. “Listen, I don’t make the rules, but we've all been thinking it.”

Michael snorted. “She’s right. That blue one smells like divorce.”

“Shut up,” Ashton groaned, opening up the bottle and spritzing the red one on his wrists.

Liz clapped her hands once. “Alright, children, shoes on. Grab your wallets, bags, and phones. No one leaves anything behind. And for the love of god- no running in the hallways.”

Five sets of eyes darted immediately toward Michael.

“What?” He challenged. “Why are you looking at me?”

“You know why,” Calum said.

Michael opened his mouth like he was going to argue, then closed it again. “...Okay, fair.”

We filed out of the room one by one, still adjusting clothes and jackets and hair as we shuffled into the hallway. The golden-hour light coming through the windows painted everything warm- like the whole hotel had been dipped in honey.

The elevator dinged, and we piled inside like clowns into a very fancy metal box. Liz gave us each a warning look as the doors slid shut.

“Now, when we get there; no running. No yelling. No touching things you shouldn’t touch. And please- please- don’t embarrass me in front of staff- like last time.”

Ashton raised a hand. “In our defense, the bidet back at the hotel was confusing.”

“You turned it into a water gun fight.”

“A very effective water gun fight,” Michael added, proud.

Liz rubbed her temples. “God help me…”

“Look, you're lucky we at least give you breaks, I gotta be with them 24/7.” I muttered her way.

__________________________

The restaurant was tucked between two old stone buildings, its doorway framed by ivy and warm hanging lanterns. The windows glowed gold from inside, and the faint clatter of dishes and low chatter drifted into the street.

Michael stopped in front of it and gasped. “Holy. Shit.”

Ashton smacked his shoulder, “Mate,” and Liz folded her arms. “Language.”

“Holy…shirt,” He corrected weakly.

Inside, it smelled like heaven.

Garlic. Tomato. Fresh bread. Butter. Wine. Coffee.

My stomach growled so loudly that Michael snorted. “Jesus, Ads, feed your inner demon.”

“I will,” I said, unapologetic, “as soon as someone brings me carbs.”

A host led us to a long wooden table near an open window, where the evening breeze rolled in with the sound of clinking glasses outside.

Calum dropped into his chair with a sigh. “Okay…this is the life.”

“Same,” Luke agreed, already reaching for the bread basket like he hadn't eaten in years.

I was still taking in the space- warm lighting, rustic walls, soft chatter- when the waiter appeared.

And he was…yeah.

Tall. Dark hair. Soft jaw, warm brown eyes, sleeves rolled to his elbows, an easy smile that somehow felt both polite and genuinely sweet.

And absolutely, undeniably my type.

“Buonasera,” He said, voice all deep and warm. “Welcome. I’m Matteo, I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

Boy, I hope so-

I blinked once. Twice.

“Okay,” I said intelligently.

Ashton immediately choked on the sip of water he’d just taken, giggling a bit.

Luke kicked him under the table, mouthing, “Chill.”

Calum smirked, biting his cheek, as Matteo continued, unaware of the silent chaos detonating in front of him. “Can I start you all with drinks?”

“Yes,” Michael said before anyone else could open their mouths. “My friend here-” He gestured to me with a flourish “-would love something Italian that makes her look sophisticated.”

I whipped my head toward him. “Michael-”

“It’s true,” Calum said, nodding sagely. “She’s very cultured. Loves…uh…fancy beverages.”

I glared. They ignored me. I looked at Liz with wide eyes, but she just smiled at me knowingly.

“What would you like? Cola? Fanta? Lemon soda?” he asked gently.

“Lemon soda, please,” I managed, trying not to combust.

He went on to take each of our orders before retreating to the kitchen.

“Bro,” Luke whispered like a ten-year-old who’d just witnessed his teacher swear. “He was totally your type.”

“He is her type,” Calum corrected. “Chiseled. Older. Handsome. Warm eyes. Rolled-up sleeves. He even looks like he reads books for fun.” He listed off.

“Hey, so do I!” Michael protested.

“You read comic books,” I reminded him.

“Yeah! For fun.”

Ashton threw his napkin into his lap and chuckled. “Okay, but- did anyone else catch that she forgot how to speak for a second?”

I gasped, offended. “I spoke perfectly fine.”

Michael mimicked me in a monotone: “‘Okay.’”

I covered my face. “I hate all of you. And excuse me for losing my nerve in front of a cute boy.”

“You never lose your nerve with any of us.” Cal said, sneaking a quick sip of my soda with furrowed brows.

“Yeah? Well, there you go…” I said with a little coy shrug.

All of them groaned and rolled their eyes at me- Calum flipped me off with a taken aback “Oy!”- while Liz just tried to be discreet as she chuckled into her menu.

“Mum!” Luke said indignantly as he whipped his head towards her.

“What? Honey, just- sit up straight, please.” She deflected. Once we locked eyes we just smirked at each other.

Yes, Liz keeps us in check of course, but she also understood that I was really close to my mom and all of this touring without her is hard. Not to mention that she knew I needed a break from all the testosterone around me all the time- so these little moments between us were so nice to have.

We ate the rest of our dinner- which was delicious by the way- and rested a bit before paying the tab and steadily making our way back to our hotel for the last time tonight.

__________________________

By the time we get back to the hotel, my feet feel like they’re about to file a formal complaint towards my body. Milan is gorgeous, but it’s also a labyrinth designed by someone who loved arches, straight roads, and people with arches in their feet.

Liz gives all of us a tired but fond goodnight before disappearing into the adjoining room she was sleeping in and as soon as the door clicked shut we all piled onto Mike and Calum's bed to debrief- quietly, of course.

I grabbed some makeup wipes and stood by the mirror planted on the wall, scrubbing off my makeup.

Michael throws himself face-first onto one of the beds with a groan. “My legs are noodles. Like…linguine.”

“As long as you’re not fettuccine,” Ashton mutters, opening his suitcase as quietly as someone opening a bag of chips at a funeral.

Luke sits on the edge of his bed, pulling off his socks, and winces. “My mum’s gonna kill us if we wake her up. Be quiet- all of you.”

“Mate,” Calum whisper-shouts, “We are being quiet.”

I snort, grabbing my pajamas and stepping into the bathroom to change, coming out mere minutes later in my sleep tank and shorts combo.

I sat down on the bed I was sharing with Luke, brushing my hair out of my face. 

Ashton was prepping the pull out couch he was sleeping on when Michael lifts his head and rests it on his elbow, looking at me.

“So…Ads” He says, voice low but pointed, “why didn't you make a move with that waiter?”

I freeze. “…Excuse me?”

“Uh, yeah,” Ashton adds on, grinning. “He was totally into you.”

Calum adds, “He even gave you extra dessert.”

Mike quickly quipped, “And I mean, if you had let him I'm sure he would've giving you a different kind of dessert but-”

“Oh- shut up.” I threw a pillow at him, scoffing. “We’re leaving tomorrow, you guys. What exactly was I supposed to do? Sweep him off his feet for 12 hours and then vanish? Not happening.”

Calum nudged Ashton as he moved around the room, putting his things away. “See? She’s hopeless.”

Luke then starts grinning, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Or…maybe she’s saving herself for someone more interesting.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh really? Who exactly might that be?”

Luke rolls his eyes. “You know exactly who.”

“Liam Payne,” Ashton whispers, leaning in dramatically, wiggling his brows.

“I- okay- that's a completely unrelated situation. And besides…Liam has a girlfriend and she's pretty and older and- look, right now I'm just focused on our album roll-out.” I explained, deflecting as best as I could. 

Because yes, I really liked Liam but I wasn't delusional. It wasn’t gonna happen. Sometimes it felt like he was flirting with me but then again, he could've just been being nice to me. Or joking around. 

And the last thing I need is to be labeled as a ‘homewrecker’ and for there to be any more weird dating rumors regarding me and any of the boys. I swear there's like a new one every week…

Michael smirks. “You never know what might happen, though.”

I laughed dryly. “Yeah, sure. The last time you said that, Ashton ended up hooking up with Gemma Styles and we recorded a damn song about it so, please.”

Ashton freezes, widening his eyes. “Excuse me?”

I tilt my head and grin. “Just saying, Mr. ‘Don't worry I’m too smooth to be caught,’” I say, mocking his voice and the way he said those words last year, “that conference between us, the 1D boys, and our PR team where we had to listen to that song still gives me nightmares, so if you think I'm gonna do anything about this little crush- even if he were single- you're dead wrong.”

Ashton brushed me off. “Ugh, you really are the ultimate buzzkill, Ads. I mean, not that I don’t appreciate it- keeps us sane- but come on!”

“Shhh! Guys, seriously keep it down! For fuck's sake…” Luke hissed.

“Literally the door is shut and no one's yelling- calm down Lu.” Calum said as he stripped down to his boxers, leaving his clothes haphazardly on a chair, and got under the covers.

“Calum- ugh-” Mike moved to put their pillow wall up, “I do not need to feel your dick pressed up on my back. No thank you.”

He shuddered as he himself threw on his sleep shorts and hoodie.

Calum snorted smugly, already half-settled. “Mate, relax. Besides, half the world would kill to be in your shoes.”

The room fell into a collective, full-body cringe.

Ashton threw his hands up. “Ew! No! Cal, we didn’t need that sentence!”

Michael said, face twisting like he’d just tasted sour milk, “Bro, what the fuck?”

“That’s…no.” Luke grimaced, stepping into the bathroom.

I pressed a hand to my mouth, shoulders shaking. “That was…wow. Wild choice of words, Hoodie.”

After a while, Ash settled into his space and tucked himself in while Luke climbed into bed next to me, face painted with exhaustion and acne cream.

“Phones off. Teeth brushed. Mouths shut. We also have to clean up tomorrow before we leave so,” He muttered, half-asleep already.

“Yes Mum,” The other three chimed.

Luke groaned into his pillow.

I shut off the bedside lamp and slid under my own blanket, relishing the warmth.

Across the room, Michael squirmed, still fussing with the pillow wall. “Calum, move over. Your leg hair is touching me.”

“In what world is that my problem?” Calum murmured, clearly seconds from unconsciousness.

Luke grumbled, kicking his side of the covers into place. “If you two don’t shut up, I’m playing white noise of whales mating on YouTube.”

“Don’t you dare,” Michael whispered sharply.

I chuckled into my pillow.

Ashton adjusted himself on the pull-out, nearly being eaten alive by the mattress before he won the battle a second time. “Goodnight, everyone. And Ads? Seriously. You could’ve gotten Matteo’s number.”

A pillow flew across the room and hit him square in the face. “Go to sleep.”

“Ashton,” Luke hissed, sitting up a little, “if you wake my mother and she gets mad-”

“Okay! Okay,” Ashton whispered back, hands up in surrender. “I’m done. Dead serious. I’m done.” He giggled. 

“G’Night guys. G’Night ‘Mouse’” Mike mumbled.

“G’Night Cliffo’.” They each responded respectively before me, “Nighy Mikey.”

“G’Night guys, sleep well.”

“Sleep well, Cal.”

“Night.”

“Goodnight Hemmo.” I ruffled his hair lightly before turning around to lay on my side.

After our goodnights were said, I slowly heard the sounds of soft snoring and heaving breathing fill the air.

The last thing I heard before drifting off was Michael mumbling sleepily:

“…not the fettuccine no…”

And then the room faded into peace.

Until- of course- we ultimately had to get up and barrel into the airport and take our mess into another city.