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Chapter 10- Harry and Chris

No more than fifteen miles away Harry was having one of the most uncomfortable nights of his life. Stuffed into a rundown hostel boarding house with eleven other men his age in a tiny room. It was like prison.

But at least I'm away from the press he thought as he sat on his bunk. He looked around the room. This place couldn't have been legal. Stains all over the walls, six single bunks in a tiny room with no aircon or heaters. The bathrooms were down the hall but they smelled bad and were also tiny. But it was a sanctuary.

He wondered what the other three were doing. He hoped they'd at least be wondering where he was. But some tiny part of his brain kept telling him they didn't care. A loud voice bought him out of his thoughts.

'Oi! You look familiar! Should we know you?'

His name was Chris. Six foot five, huge and rowdy. In here because his parents had kicked him out of home when he was sixteen once he'd been expelled from school.

Harry quickly shook his head. 'No, no way.'

'Well what you doing in here then? Ya girlfriend kick you out?' Chris asked, sitting down heavily next to Harry, a weird leer on his face. He smelled almost as bad as the bathrooms.

Harry shook his head again. 'Just needed to get away,' he said quietly.

'Ya got any money then?' Chris asked pushily.

'No,' Harry lied.

'What's that then?' he asked, pointing to Harry's iPod hanging out of his pocket.

'Nothing,' Harry said, hastily pushing it back in. Chris grabbed it and turned it on.

'The Used, Busted, Fightstar, V, McFly? Poofter music?' Chris laughed and the rest of the room laughed as well.

'Give it back,' Harry said quietly, holding out his hand.

'Nah, I think I'll keep it,' Chris said with a smirk. Harry snatched it from him and shoved it deep back into his pocket. Before he knew it, Chris's fist collided with his shoulder, knocking him off balance. But he stood strong, trying not to show how much it had hurt.

'No one upstages me ya prick!' Chris exclaimed, his fat hand clenching into a fist again. One of the other boys took Chris's wrist and pulled it down. Chris ripped his hand from his grasp and put his hand in his pocket, staring at Harry, scowling.

'I know who ya look like now! That drummer from McFly! Am I right?' Chris said loudly in his uneducated, loud voice.

'Seems you know McFly more than me,' Harry muttered, pushing past him and going outside. He heard Chris's loud voice protesting, but he ignored it, knowing he'd get a beating for it later on.

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There was a small garden with a few small seats. Harry sat down and stared out at the lights of London in the distance. He was getting bullied at the age of nineteen! He sighed and looked down at the iPod. Was this all he was going to have left of the boys? Their music?

He sighed deeply again and put it back in his pocket. He thought back to earlier that day. He just couldn't take the press anymore. Even their fans and his own band mates and manager believed it! He just had to find out who really set it. But to figure that out he'd need help. And he had no one willing to give it to him.

He thought back to the show. The thrill of playing with them again and the feeling of success getting back out there.

Tomorrow he thought. Tomorrow I'll go back. Even if they don't want to see me. I'll make them see me. I'll make them help me.

The loud voice of the coordinator of the hostel was yelling that dinner was ready. Great, now he'd have to go back and face Chris. It was only for one night. He could do this. He could get through this.

Harry got up and defiantly marched into the hall for food. Everyone stared at him as he sat down. He kept his head down and quickly shoved the grey looking mush into his mouth. It tasted awful but was better than nothing. After he'd finished his dinner everyone stayed down in the hall to watch a movie. But Harry went to bed.

He figured the earlier he went to bed, the earlier he'd be able to see the boys.

And that Chris couldn't bash him.

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He listened to his iPod until it ran out of batteries. The snores and farts of the other men in his room filled the room. He checked his watch. It was only midnight. He turned over on the uncomfortable bed, a spring poking into his hip. It was going to be a long, long night...

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Danny shook himself awake, looking around the room. Dougie and Tom were slumped in chairs beside his bed. Danny's half-eaten messed up food still sat on his bedside table. He hadn't bothered calling the doctors to get more. He couldn't describe how horrible it felt to eat.

He sat up quietly, turning on the light beside his bed. He rubbed his eyes and the back of his head. It was throbbing. As he looked around the dimly lit room his eye caught the picture again. Where could Harry be? He hoped he was just back at the hotel and Tom and Dougie just hadn't checked if he was there.

He thought back to the look on Harry's face when he saw that first news story.

He'd looked mortified.

Shocked.

Disbelieving.

Horrified.

Sick.

But not guilty.

He looked annoyed.

Appalled.

Disgusted.

But still not guilty.

The tone of his voice when he was trying to convince them that he hadn't done it...

Danny felt a pang of guilt in his throat. He'd had to convince them? What type of friends were they? They'd let Dougie go back upstairs to a burning house and Harry had to swear to them he didn't start the fire?! That wasn't right.

The door opened and a doctor quietly tiptoed in.

'Evening Danny, just need to ask you some things to make sure that your head wound isn't causing any damage. Now full name and date of birth?' he whispered.

'Daniel Alan David Jones, twelfth of March 1986,' Danny replied quietly, glancing over at the still sleeping Dougie and Tom.

'Name of band and full names of band members?'

'McFly, Dougie Lee Poynter, Thomas Michael Fletcher, Harry Mark Christopher Judd,' Danny murmured, his heart wrenching at the last name.

'Day of the week and the year?'

'It's now Saturday and its 2005,' Danny replied.

'Good job, now look here,' the doctor said, holding a finger in front of Danny's eyes and getting out a little torch. He shone it in Danny's eyes and nodded in satisfaction.

'You can go back to sleep now Danny. We're pretty sure you're not too badly concussed or that you've suffered very much damage from the cut. Remember to call if you need anything-.' The doctor eyed the plate of food on his bedside table. 'Danny...' he scolded, shaking his head.

'I couldn't eat it! I can't!' Danny cried, quickly checking he hadn't woken up the other two. Dougie stirred in his sleep but rolled onto his other side and fell silent again.

'You need to eat at least two full meals before we can send you home tomorrow okay? Remember that,' the doctor said firmly as he wrote something on a clipboard and left the room. Danny sighed and lay back down, turning the light off, not noticing Dougie's eyes flick open and closed.