It's been a long long time

On Tour

A/N: So guess who should stop making promises? That's right... Me. Cause apparently updating on even a somewhat regular schedule isn't my thing. Safe to say, that for a fanfiction that I started two years ago, I'm obviously not very happy with my old writing style. Will I do something about it? No, you'll just have to deal with it in the first chapters.

Enjoy this awesome continuation of a story that will probably have an ending when we actually get a 1D reunion and that means, when we're all retired.

Harry was pacing around the living room of his suite in Bologna. Tonight he would travel to Turin, but his suitcase was still all over the place and the place a a whole a mess in general. His thoughts were spinning. He forgot what an exhausting time tour life could be. Not that he didn't absolutely adore it, but right now he could use a drink... No, no drinks for him, bad idea at 12 pm. He sighed exasperated and flung himself down on the couch.

At this very moment a notification popped up on his phone and Harry snatched it from the low glass table to unlock it. The message was from "The boyzzzz" by Liam, "The first album was shit anyways, huh Tommo?"

He stared at it for a while, confused what his former bandmate was talking about. Niall didn't hesitate with a dramatic addition, "And to make such a statement on our anniversary, that is basically a war declaration." Ah, the anniversary, right. Harry's curiosity took a hold of him, but he didn't dare to chime in. Instead he opened Google and typed in: "Louis Tomlinson first album." He couldn't believe he was acting like a fangirl. At him stared the headline "Louis Tomlinson Thinks One Direction's Debut Album 'Was S-t.'" The article said, that Lou had made the statement on the 'Smallzy's Surgery podacst', which Harry didn't hesitate to look up immediately.

***

Harry was finally able to settle down after the rush of moving to his tour bus. Well, settle down was a nice way to put it, his body maybe could, his mind didn't. The whole packing process and running around and dicussing the last important details for his next show, that couldn't be taken care of on the road had done quite a good job of taking his mind of the interview, but now everything he could seem to think of was, "Lou, lou, lou..." Didn't he do quite a good job of not doing so after their first meet up in 2020? He was somewhat even proud of his ability to keep himself distracted from that crazy event actually. He guessed that planning a tour that happened to be the definition of unpredictable plus writing a whole third album was the best medicine for heartache. And what valid reason does heartache even have, when the relationship causing it was merely something that had happened in his early twenties and he was moving towards thirty in a pace that was scary even to him (we're not talking about how Gemma keeps babying him).

A thought occured to Harry that made him stop in his tracks: "I'm rambling to myself." Unbelieving he shook his head. His eyes fell on the TV remote in the corner of his bed. He reached for it and with a motivation going towards zero pointed it at the monitor to put Netflix on. He cringed at the sight of Bridgerton being suggested to him. Why he was so opposed to the show, he wasn't sure, but what he was sure of is that he wasn't going to spend his night by watching it. Disappointed by his "On My List" he kept klicking through the seemingly endless offer that this particular streaming service provided (not that it was of any quality lately). Dishearted he didn't even try it with Amazon Prime. Instead he decided to put on his Pyjamas, read a few pages in his book and go to sleep, just like a healthy night routine should look like.

After half an hour of his best attempts to read the same page over and over again and actually understand what the main protagonist of the love triangle was struggling with, he gave up and unlocked his phone yet again. What an annoying invention of modern times. He made a decision. If this bastard of a handsome looking lad wasn't going to leave his palace of inner peace any time soon, then he was at least going to do something about it and call him. He opened the group chat, now full of playful banter between 3/5 (Zayn and him did stay awkwardly quiet throughout this whole conversation), and opened the members list. Out of truly logical carefulness he had left Louis' new phone number unsaved, just in case he would come up with any stupid idea like this one. Not that it was of any help in reality.