'Come on, Y/N, bus is leaving.'

You heard a distant voice call to you as you slowly woke up from your supposed nap, which you accidentally took for half the day. Life was busy, you never really had time to rest so when the afternoon cleared up you couldn't help but sleep. This had unfortunately now been interrupted by one of your best friends in a bid to get you onto the coach that would take you to your next planned location.

You had been on tour with your best friends for three months and had been having the most amazing time. You had known The 1975, or your closest friends, since secondary school and went basically everywhere with them. It was strange calling them by their band name, to you they were just the same four boys who you'd spend most hours of the day with when you were 16.

You didn't really have any girl friends when you were younger, you grew up with Matty, Ross, Adam and George as your group. You shared most life experiences together, smoking and drinking for the first time, leaving school, wingmanning them into losing their virginities and vise versa. It was never more than platonic with any of them, the feeling was mutual, you were basically treated like another one of the boys.

You befriended their many girlfriends that came and went, other than the ones who were instant red flags. They took your honest advice, knowing you had their best interests at heart, and you the same.

Matty and Adam's long term girlfriends were good friends of yours, and you often found yourself getting along with whoever Ross was occupying himself with at the time. George, however, seemed to be with girls that you couldn't get on with. Or just wouldn't.

It's not like you were actively refusing to be friends with them, you were perfectly nice and spoke well of them when questioned by him. In yourself, however, you felt a sense of resentment, and you were never sure why. He just always seemed to be with girls that were the polar opposite of you.

'He's trying to convince himself that he doesn't like your type of girl.' Matty's girlfriend once said.

You had looked at her confusedly, but hadn't got any further explanation after Matty had put his hand over her mouth and told her to say no more.

Nothing had come of that conversation, it was a passing comment and you hadn't questioned it further, it didn't feel worth it.

You dragged yourself off of the sofa to meet the boys, preparing yourself for their teasing of your sleeping antics.

'Look who's decided to show up finally.' You hear Ross before you've even turned the corner to meet them outside the bus.

You reply to the comment by flipping him off before heading onto the bus and jumping into the top bunk, your dedicated bed for the entire tour.

'You have work to do madame. Can't just be sleeping all day.' Matty jokes as he prods your side.

He's annoying, but he's right.

You had just come out of a four year university degree with no ideas for the direction of your life. You had studied the ins and outs of digital production but had no motivation to work in the field as a day job, and instead found yourself feeling sorry for yourself most days.

You found comfort in confiding in your friends, George especially. A particularly difficult day had led to him holding you as you cried into his chest, expressing your anxieties about your life having no direction, no meaning. He felt bad and desperately wanted to help, miraculously thinking of a brilliant idea.

'Y/N, why don't you come on tour with us?' He had said.

'What?'

'You've just studied cameras and shit for years, why don't you take our tour photos? You could make tour diaries, documentary type things. You know you'd be amazing at it and we would all want you around anyway.'

And that was it.

The tour bus set off for London after the boys had played in Birmingham, so not too far of a trip. You felt awful, however. The grogginess from sleeping had overlayed into the rest of the day which was further accompanied by a headache. You hadn't felt so crap in such a long time and you had a lot of photos to edit for some press release coming up.

You reached London pretty quickly and the boys were discussing their plans for a night out. No hotel had been booked so they were basing their evening on how easy it was to get back to the tour bus, and also how drunk they wanted to get as, again, they had to sleep on the cramped tour bus.

They had decided their plan for the night when your curtain was pulled back abruptly, the scratching noise increasing the pain in the back of your skull.

It was Matty.

'Oi, Y/N. Why are you still looking like that? We're going out in like 20 minutes!'

'I'm not coming, sorry. I've got so much work to do and a piercing headache but I'll be fine, just don't think I can face the social scene tonight.' You reply.

'Are you sure? We're only here for a night!' He protests.

'I'm sure, Matty. London nights out are shit anyway.'

He retreats back to the guys and you can hear him explain what you've just told him.

'You alright Y/N?' Adam shouts, helping the headache.

'All good, promise. Enjoy your night!' You reply and you turn back over in bed.

Knowing the amount of work you had to do, you felt yourself slip into sleep once again and did nothing to resist it.

About an hour later you wake up abruptly, hitting your head on the ceiling above.

'Fuck sake!' You wince as you press your hand against the sore spot.

'You alright?' You hear a voice ask.

'George?'

He pokes his head around the corner by your bed and raises his eyebrows.

'Yeah?'

'Why are you here? Have you all come home this early for some reason?'

He laughs.

'No, I didn't go out. I wanted to make sure you're okay and I agree, London nights out are shit.'

You jump out of bed and see him sat on the sofa with a laptop in front of him, so you join him and look at what he's doing.

'Anything new?' You ask.

'Yeah, just messing around really.'

You shuffle closer towards him and press play and listen to the melodies he's crafted together. There are no words, just an acoustic guitar and a low drum sound but it works together perfectly.

'That's amazing, George. How do you do it?'

He scratches the back of his head nervously, not wanting to accept the praise.

'How's the headache?' He asks, changing the subject.

'Better, thanks. You really didn't have to stay in by the way.' You reply.

'I wanted to, you worried me. You seem really stressed at the moment and I don't want being with us to be the cause of it. You know you can be honest if anything's bothering you right?'

'George, being with you guys is where I want to be, I'm having the time of my life I promise, there's just a lot to do. But I'd get bored if it wasn't difficult.' You put a hand on his arm. 'I'm exactly where I want to be.'

He puts his hand on top of yours and gives you a small smile.

'I have another reason why I stayed back.' He mumbles.

'What's that?'

What happened next was something you could've never imagined. George's hand travelled slowly from your hand up to your face, landing on your cheek as he pulled your face closer to his. Both yours and his eyes were open still as your faces drew closer together before your lips met softly. He kissed you deeply, passionately, meaningfully - like it was something he had put a lot of thought into. Your hands found themselves tangled in his hair, tugging every so often as his tongue danced around your mouth, his body eventually pressed upon yours, his hands keeping himself up on either side of your face.

You couldn't let anything escalate any further without some explanation, so you forced yourself to break the kiss and sit up to face George.

You can't think of anything to say, all that comes out is 'Hmm. What?'

He chuckles and leans back into the sofa.

'It's not even recent, the fact I've been into you, I just felt more confident recently, and had a feeling you shared the same feelings I had.' He explains.

'How was it obvious that I shared the same feelings as you?'

'You don't get on with any of my girlfriends, you look at me differently to how you look at the other guys.' He replies.

'Hardly!'

He raises his eyebrows. 'Sure.'

You laugh lightly as you feel yourself being drawn back into his grasp, you longed for the same excitement you felt two minutes ago and wanted nothing more than to kiss him again. As your nose brushed against his a sudden bang caused you both to jump back and rush to your feet.

Matty stumbled into the bus stinking of alcohol, Adam followed with the same steaming look on his face. You go to fill up some cups of water for them and nod at the random girl who was hiding behind an extremely drunk Ross as they followed the boys onto the bus.

Before you can shove the water and some paracetamol down their throats they all simultaneously get into their beds.

'If any of you throw up in the night I swear to God-' You start.

'Don't worry, we won't.' They all reply synchronised.

You sigh as you hear their breaths steady, signifying that all of them had fallen asleep, other than Ross and his random.

You had completely forgotten about George until you attempt to climb into your bed before a warm hand pulls your waist back down.

'Feel like having a sleepover in mine tonight?' He smirks.

You laugh as he gets into his bed as you follow after.

'Gotta be quiet, though.' He whispers.

'I'll try my best.' You reply as you pull the curtain behind you.