So, um hi.

I haven't updated this story for over a year. I am horrible. I am sorry.

Uni and life has been getting in the way and I apologise but my life generally comes first ha.

Anyway, the fact that I started this story in 2011 means that the way I write, and the way I envision the characters has changed a fair bit. I am a completely different person than I was when I started this story (thank god!) and as such everything about new updates will more than likely be quite different than I planned back in 2011.

Also, it means the timeline of this story is now way off. Memory Lane is out and old news know, McBusted is, unfortunately, a thing. Dougie has been to rehab. I am now 20 ( what the fuck I'm old :'() so yeah. When I began this story I was 17 and envisioning the original characters as around my age, as such I don't exactly know how to write 18 year old me anymore so yeah. I don't know whether I will go back and edit this story but the characters will remain at their current ages, but will probably act a little older? I don't know, I don't even know where im taking this anymore so sorry again.

Anyway, that was the longest authors note ever but heres chapter five, finally!

Chapter 5

After dinner, which, true to form, had turned out to be a takeaway Chinese, Danny called up Dougie to see what he was doing. Apparently, we were going to be going out again tonight. Danny told me we were leaving in an hour. I, of course, looked a mess, so I rushed upstairs to get ready.

After showering, I quickly blow dried my hair straight, managed to get some makeup on and choose and outfit before Danny knocked on my door.

'Hurry up, taxis on its way!' He yelled through the door.

'Nearly ready!' I replied, all I had to do was choose shoes. I picked up my spiked Lita boots off of a shelf, before walking out the door to join Danny in the lounge. The other boys had arrived at Dannys by the time I got there, and I was shocked to see Tom on the lounge with them.

'I thought you didn't want to go out, Tom.' I said as I sat down beside Dougie, reaching down to put my boots on.

'Doug convinced me,' he started, but Dougie interrupted,

'I told him he needed to slut around a bit, to get over Gi.' I chuckled, trying to imagine Tom slutting around. It would never happen.

'Makes sense.' I said. Having gotten my boots on, I got up to get a drink from the fridge, taxis always took forever. 'Anyone else need a drink?' I called from the kitchen, receiving a unanimous reply of 'yes,' I grabbed four beers, as well as a double black for myself, and walked back out.

'So, where are we even going tonight?' I asked as I took my seat beside Doug again,

'A place over in Soho, Automat I think it's called?' Harry answered, and I nodded.

'Emma Watson had her birthday there.' Tom added dully. Well, his mood hadn't improved, had it?

'Oh, cool. Sounds like a pretty cool place.' I said, smiling before taking a sip of my drink. The boys continued with their conversation they were having before I came downstairs, and I pulled out my phone, deciding to play around on facebook and tumblr while waiting.

After what seemed like an hour, the taxi arrived and we were on our way. The trip to Soho would take about half an hour, so we'd brought some sneaky drinks to make it go quicker. Passing around the small, silver flask engraved with a message from Dougies sister for his 21st birthday, we laughed and chatted, reaching the stage of tipsy-ness in which one became much too comfortable in their surroundings. Tom began to tell us about his day, and how after leaving us at the coffee shop he called the barista, and she was coming tonight. I nearly choked on my drink, but covered it pretty well.

'Whoa, well done dude, I told you you needed to slut around!' Dougie said a little too loudly, another effect of the alcohol. Harry, being the only one still thinking straight, sent a sympathetic look my way. I rolled my eyes at him, when would they realise that I wasn't interested? I mean, sure he was my favourite McFly member, but since meeting him I honestly felt nothing towards him. He was an asshole, to be quite honest. Toms story continued until we reached the club, and as we got out of the taxi barista girl was standing by the door, waiting for us. Man, did she look like a skank. She had curled her bleach-blonde hair, half of which seemed to be hair extensions, and was wearing the darkest eye makeup I think I've ever seen. This was topped off with pale pink lips and a shorter than short black dress. It took all I had to not laugh, to be completely honest, as Tom walked up to her and gave her a peck on the cheek. We walked into the club and grabbed a booth, and the night went similarly to last time, we grabbed some drinks, played some stupid drinking games, and ended up sleeping on the floor in a living room.

'At least this time I got the couch' I groaned to myself as I woke up the next morning. I sat up, looking around. This was not a living room I recognised. I got up, and walked into the kitchen with plans to find painkillers, only to find a very dishevelled Tom Fletcher standing before me. I looked at him blankly for a moment, my mind not actually realising who it was. Surprisingly, he smiled at me, pointing to some painkillers left out on the bench and the freshly brewed pot of coffee next to it.

'You look like you need them,' He said, half smirking, half smiling.

'Thanks, I guess.' I replied, confused. I wasn't sure if that was an insult or not. 'So, how did last night go? With barista girl, I mean.' I asked, half wanting to know, half just making polite conversation until someone else woke up.

'She, uh. Went home. I know Dougie said I needed to slut around, but I couldn't go through with it. Don't tell them that, though.' He replied.

'Huh. Wasn't expecting that one.' I muttered, sipping my coffee. He didn't say anything. I didn't say anything. It was incredibly awkward. I realised that we had never actually had a proper conversation before. I must have made some horrible face at this thought, because Tom asked me what was wrong.

'Uh, nothing. Just, um… thinking.' I said, avoiding a real answer. It was then that he decided getting to know me would be a good idea. At 8am. With a hangover.

'So, tell me about yourself, Mel.' He said, happily. How the fuck was he not hungover.

'Um. Where do you want me to start?' I asked, not knowing what to say. He suggested family, so I went with that. 'Well, my parents are lovely. My little sister is a brat but what do you expect, really. I have a dog and we lived in a fairly nice house in a small coastal town. A bit boring really.' I said, hurriedly. I don't know why I was rushing this.

'What about friends? Or I don't know, school? Work? Anything.'

'Well, I only really had a few close friends by the end of school, but to be honest I liked it that way. Um, my friend Elise is actually coming to England soon, so that should be fun. School was a bit shit,' I laughed, remembering how my friends and I would always put so much shit on our school, 'and I worked through school, but that's about it. Um, I don't know what else to say about myself, really.' I said, shrugging and taking another sip of coffee. It was doing wonders.

'Uh, what sort of music are you into, other than us obviously.' He said, laughing. I rolled my eyes.

'I actually have really bad music taste, so don't judge me. I love pop punk stuff like Blink and New Found Glory and Green Day, but I also love straight up bubblegum pop like Demi Lovato, Taylor Swift, Miley Cyrus, One Direction. It's horrific, really.' I laughed. 'It's like the car wreck of music tastes, a friend of mine used to say.' He laughed at that, nodding.

'There's nothing wrong with cheesy pop music.' He said defensively.

'Except when it comes in the form of 'Above the Noise',' I said, with a laugh.

'That was a… bad idea. I never really liked that album.' He said seriously. I laughed again. We kept talking about music for a while, as it was an easy topic and something we both loved. We actually had pretty similar tastes, we discovered after a while. We were soon interrupted by the other three, wanting breakfast.

'Well, where's the nearest café to here that doesn't have creepy baristas?' I asked, shooting a look at Tom. He smirked, and the other three had a laugh.

'About ten minute walk away. Although I can't guarantee that there'll be no creepy baristas.' Harry replied, and I realised we must have been at his house. I smiled, telling the boys to get decent to leave the house and be ready in five minutes.