“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” My brows raise slightly as I triple check this with you, even if I’m drunk out of my damn mind right now. Wasted or sober, the last thing I’d want to do is make you even slightly uncomfortable.

We’re at a New Year’s Eve party hosted by one of Niall’s friends, and obviously you tagged along since you’re in the band and one of our best friends. The large Hollywood Hills home is packed with A-list celebrities and zero cameras to report back to the press. Just everyone getting drunk or high (or both) and letting loose.

Earlier on in the evening, Louis made some joke about how he needed to find a girl to kiss at midnight, because supposedly it’s bad luck if you don’t kiss someone at midnight. You and I are both single, not really looking for relationships at the moment due to our tour, and on a tipsy whim agreed to be each others midnight smooch.

And now it’s 2 minutes until 2015.

“You can change your mind, y’know,” I yell over the music and loud cheering of the crowded area. “Lou is probably just full of shit about the bad omen,”