Big City Dreams

[Katie’s POV]

Miranda and I had been in London for nearly four months now, and were set into our routines. I went to school on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, while working at a clothing store the rest of the week. Miranda had landed a job at a well-known law firm, thanks to her great networking skills, and was currently working on a case she was told to keep hush about. Her hours had been all over the place, most of her nights running later than usual, but tonight she was actually due home for dinner. I had made lasagna, her favorite dish that I was actually capable of cooking well, and was now waiting for it to fully cook. I had the soundtrack to A Very Potter Musical blasting from my laptop, myself singing along quite loudly, and was working on a salad to go along with our dinner.

My oversized Ravens slippers scraped against the wood flooring as I danced about, which was probably dangerous since I was still cutting up vegetables with a quite large knife. I tossed everything into one of our large mixing bowls, setting it on the already set table, and barely heard Miranda enter the flat behind me. I called a quick hello to her, straightening the silverware, preparing to jump and sing to Miranda.

“I wanna take you to the city, get all up in your titties,” I sang loudly, jumping to point at her, which made me abruptly stop, “Oh, uh, hi.”

“Beautiful, Katie, stage worthy,” Miranda smirked, making a blush creep up my face, “Sorry I didn’t tell you, but I brought work home with me.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes while glancing at the boys positioned behind her, “I’m Katie, nice to meet y’all.”

They all went around and introduced themselves, not that they needed to considering I knew who they were, but I politely smiled and shook their hands all the same. I invited them to eat with us, all of them saying they were famished and accepted, meaning I had to set the table for more people. I watched them all move towards the living room, making eye contact with Miranda, and making sure she caught the stern look I was giving her. She just shrugged, knowing what I was saying, and disappeared as quickly as her heels would let her. I placed everything on the table, and turned off my music, logging onto the livestream of the NFL game I had been waiting for all day.

“Oh shut it, Collinsworth, we know you hate the Ravens,” I grumbled, sipping the water I had poured earlier, “Say one more thing about Big Ben’s injuries and I’ll lose it.”

“What about the giant clock?” an accented voice asked, giving me a heart attack.

“Jesus Christ,” I all but shouted, clutching my chest, “Uhm, Big Ben is what they call the quarterback of the team I hate the most in the NFL. I have a different name for him, but it’s not the nicest. He’s a terrible person, really.

“And now I’m rambling. Sorry about that. Can I help you with something?”

“No worries, love,” Zayn smiled, making my heart nearly melt, “And Miranda sent me in here to ask if we should start on something, or if dinner was nearly ready.”

“Tell her it’s ready, and I’ll bring it out to the table as soon as y’all are sat down,” I smiled, watching him walk back out.

I quickly grabbed hot pads out of their drawer, and pulled the lasagna out, turning off the now beeping timer. Knowing I would massacre the meal if I attempted to cut it, I carried it out to let Miranda do the honors. She did, easily dishing us all out a piece, and let the meal fall into a comfortable silence while we all ate. They all discussed their case, something to do with a name change lawsuit, and I kept sneaking glances at my phone to check the game score. I was so wrapped up in the stats that I wasn’t aware of my name being said repeatedly until someone nudged me. I looked up, noticing Harry had nudged me, and he motioned to Liam who looked like he was waiting for an answer. I smiled sheepishly, not hearing the question, and asked him to repeat himself.

“I just asked why you were in all black, and staring so intently at your phone,” he shrugged, “It looks like you’re waiting for a mission or something to start.”

“I’m a spy,” I said with a laugh, “Kidding. It’s a really important football game for my favorite team, against our biggest rivals.”

“AKA, Katie will be yelling at her laptop when dinners over, saying phrases she wouldn’t normally string together,” Miranda said, smiling triumphantly, “But I would be doing the same to mine, if my team weren’t on a bye week.”

“I apologize in advance,” I said with a laugh.

They boys took it all in good humor, and even asked Miranda and I to explain some of the basics of ‘American Football’. We tried our best, having to explain some of the weirder penalties in more detail than we normally would. By the end, the boys knew the basics, and declared they were just going to have to watch a game with us the next week. I cleared the table shortly after, getting help from Louis and Zayn after much protest. The pair did most of the washing up, saying I deserved helped after such an amazing meal, and gladly pranced to my room when it was done to watch the second half of the game live.

[Miranda’s POV]

Once dinner was cleaned up, and we could hear Katie in her room cheering, the boys and I settled into the living room to go over case details. The case had been going on for nearly three months, meaning I had been shoved right into it when I got hired at the firm. The boys and the rest of their team had been amazing, and had given me a lot of responsibility on the case, even though I was only the paralegal.

“The band is still insisting that you stole their name, and requesting you change it,” I huffed, flipping through a few forms, “Which, pardon my French, is bullshit. There are plenty of American and UK bands anymore that seem to have the same names, and are fine with it.”

“Wait, there are other cases like ours, but the bands are totally okay with it?” Niall piped up, his accent making my heart smile.

“Yeah, I know of two actually. The Architects and HIM,” I nodded, with a shrug, “I honestly just think this band is after money, considering they’re not even a large enough band to have an international following.”

“And now it’s up to you, and Mr. Biel, to convince the courts of that,” Liam added, always coming out to be the sensible one.

“And that I didn’t rip them off just for the hell of it,” Harry said, looking up from his phone, “Unless I really did, and just like to lie.”

I rolled my eyes at his laugh, but still laughed, glad that they were taking the case in such good humor. Liam and Niall helped me the most with the work, the others not attentive enough at the moment to give direct answers, and finished up the work I was assigned to do in a timely manner. I put everything back into my briefcase, dropping it onto the side of the coffee table, and finally leaned back into the couch to relax. The boys didn’t show any sign of leaving, not that I minded since we had become what could be called friends in the past few months, and I easily fell into conversation with them.

We were talking about the most of random of things, lots of laughter going around, and only laughed harder when Katie yelled from her room about victory. She zoomed out, yelling to me about being on top of the AFC North, and claimed she needed a victory cigarette to calm her down. Zayn offered to accompany her, saying he could use a smoke as well, and the two disappeared out the door. I flipped on the television, excited that A Night At The Roxburry was playing, and excited the boys seemed to be interested in watching it. I offered a round of drinks, everyone accepting graciously, and made a move to get them from the kitchen.

“Here, I’ll help ya,” Niall said, entering the kitchen seconds after I opened the fridge, “Thanks for letting us chill here, by the way, it’s refreshing to meet new people who don’t like us because of who we are.”

“Well, this might be awkward, but…” I said, twisting my face and handing him a beer I had pulled out, “Kidding. I mean, yeah, I was a fan of you guys, but I believe that everyone deserves the chance to prove themselves to me. I don’t think that someone’s status, like your job for example, should determine how they’re treated. As far as I’m concerned, you guys are a group of normal guys, who happened to get extremely lucky.”

Niall studied my face, and smiled when he saw the sincerity I had laced into my words was real, not forced. I smiled back, pulling out the rest of the beer, and brushed past him to grab the bottle opener from the ‘junk’ drawer. I popped all the tops off, Niall impressed at how quick I could do it without dropping the caps, and mentally thanked my sister for teaching me. Zayn and Katie had returned when we were in the kitchen, meaning we had taken longer than necessary, and had situated themselves on the ground in front of the coffee table. Niall and I distributed the drinks, and took our spots next to each other on the long couch.

We watched what remained of the movie, and half of Billy Madison, before the boys decided to call it a night, saying they had an early morning waiting for them. I showed them out, getting a surprise hug from all of them; Niall’s lingering a bit longer than the others. I latched the door, noticing Katie had already taken the liberty of turning the TV off, and was staring at me with a grin across her face.

“Don’t even start,” I laughed, knowing what she was going to say, “I’m not the one who disappeared to go smoke with one of them.”

“But you did take a long time to get beer,” she pointed out, trying to ignore my earlier comment, “Plus, Zayn’s a chill guy. Don’t know why people think he’s arrogant.”

“Same reason people think Niall is insecure,” I shrugged, “He has more confidence than most people, if I do say so myself. I mean, who else hugs you longer than necessary and slips a paper into your hand containing his number. Not someone with confidence issues.”

“Shut up,” Katie shouted, holding in a squeal, “You get em, girl! I just got a follow on twitter.”

I laughed at her, knowing she was secretly freaking out about it, and told her we should probably turn in for the night. She agreed, knowing she had an early class to attend, and the pair of us said our goodnights. I changed out of my skirt and top, throwing on an oversized Packers shirt, and did my nightly routine in record time. I typed Niall’s number into my phone, and sent him a quick text telling him I appreciated his boldness, before turning it on silent and shoving it onto my nightstand. I turned my iHome’s sleep timer on, and allowed myself to be lulled to sleep by the peaceful sound of The Summer Set.