Lisbon, Portugal

It's not the heat that wakes me but the loud shrill ringing of my phone. I scowl at it as I pull my pillow over my head. I'm exhausted. We had the flight over from Paris, followed by an immediate round of interviews, then a show, all within 9 hours. The boys were exhausted. Harry didn't even stop by my room last night, which was actually for the best, as I was up until 3 trying to sort the schedule for Spain, the next country we visit, and Germany, the one after that.

I'm still getting huge amounts of abuse on twitter and despite Glens insistance that I don't check, I can't help myself. It's not a very nice feeling to be hated by tons of people. Plus my groin still chafes when I walk and it's not just because of my chunky thighs.

Despite my general lack of life/social skills, I'm really fussy about being ahead of my work, mainly because I don't want to mess up, the last thing I want is to be called up in front of Lydia again.
We've got another round of interviews today, a couple of photo shoots and Harry and Liam have a meet and greet with some competition winners.

The phone is still ringing and a surge of self-pity washes over me. I've had about three hours sleep and Harry didn't need me this morning. I could have had another couple of hours sleep. I snatch up the receiver.

"Yeah?" I snarl.

"Lennon?" At the sound of the voice I slap my hand to my head and kick my legs against the bed in frustration.

"Mum." I say through my teeth.

"Lennon, we've got a serious problem."

Given that the last time she phoned me with a serious problem it turned out to be just Brian playing on minecraft, I can't help but feel a little sceptical.

"It's your brother-"

"Let me guess." I roll my eyes. "He's playing roblox- No, he's listening to pop music... No, wait! He's eaten processed sugar!" My voice rises in mock horror.

There's a silence at the other end of the line.

"I'm glad you can find humour in these situations Lennon." Mum says tightly. "Your father and I tried to instil you with a strong sense of truth. We tried to make you see the world as it really is, beyond-"

I grope for my cigarettes as she continues talking. The words 'matrix' and 'closed-minded' get thrown around a lot as she drones on. I fight with with arms of my loose cardigan as I walk to the patio doors and onto my tiny balcony. Mum's still going on as I spark my cigarette and squint towards the morning sun.

"... And to be honest Lennon, I love you but I'm very disappointed in the way that you've bought into the capitalist system. We brought you up to be more authentic than that."

"Ok. Sorry." I say distractedly, searching round for an ashtray. Mum sniffs before speaking again.

"The reason I'm calling you-"

"Can I speak to Lennon? Pleaseee?"

I can't help but grin at the sound of Brian's eager voice.

"In a minute, my sweet starchild," Mum whispers to him. "Lennon?"

"Yes." I sigh, scanning the breakfast list. I wish 8 hours solid sleep was offered on the menu.

"We've had a spot of bother with your brother."

"Brian sounds ok-"

"Not Brian."

"Harrison? I thought he was working for a bank in Londo-"

"Not Harrison." Her voice has that high pitched quality that tells me that I'm about to be told something I don't want to hear and she's going to be all; 'I'm your mum and you have to listen'

"McCartney." I groan loudly. My mental hippy brother who spends his time living between cults and communes.

"Yes actually. He's in a bit of trouble."

"Right." I say testily.

"It's just with you being in Portugal... I would call it a coincidence, but of course the universe often throws things like this in our way."

"What is it?" I ask sharply, wincing as I stub my cigarette too hard and singe the edge of my finger.

"You have to understand, of all my children, McCartney was born into a world that wasn't ready for him. The openness of his soul, the freedom in his heart is a threat to-"

"It's drugs charges again isn't it?" I say flatly.

"If you want to call a plant based substance 'drugs' then yes." She says in a superior tone.

"Well it depends what you do with it doesn't it?" I snap. "Aloe Vera is plant based but you don't see me trying to snort or smoke it, do you?"

"McCartney is being held in prison in Pombal. It's just two hours away from you. He called this morning to say that he will be released but only if someone collects him as a guarantor, signs the forms and stays with him until he exits the country tomorrow morning-"

"And what will happen if no one does?"

"He'll be there a while. They'll have to appoint him a guardian and review his case-"

"Well maybe that will do him good!"

"Lennon... McCartney is your brother. Of all of billions of humans in this world, you share a unique bond with him. You were both borne of a the deep passion between your father and I. You both grew within me and nursed at my breast-"

Wow ok. Now I just feel really cringe and uncomfortable. I shudder as her voice comes shrilly down the phone.

"You share a bond and you owe it to him to-"

"Mummmmm! It's my turn!"

"Brian wishes to speak with you." She says formally, as if she's introducing me a dinner party guest.

"Hello Lennon!" Brians cheerful little voice sounds down the line.

"Hey little buddy. How's everything going?"

"It's epic." He says happily. "Me and mum are going on a course this weekend."

"Another one?" I say, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"Yup. We're learning about colour healing."

"What?"

"Colour healing. Healing our inner selves using colours. Mum says people who wear a lot of green tend to be very angry and people who chose pink are higher souls. I can't wait to learn more... I wish you could come."

"Yeah me too." I say sarcastically. Brian doesn't pick up the tone in my voice.

"I knew you'd really want to come! I'm sorry Lennon, I shouldn't have told you about it. Now you'll feel like you're missing out. That was mean of me."

My heart twinges at the thought of his little eager face.

"I love you kid."

"I love you too." He says. "I'm sorry, I have to go now, me and Dad are building yurts in the garden."

Brian cuts the phone before Mum can take it off him and I quickly place it in its cradle.

I'm not doing this. McCartney causes his own problems, I can't sort it all out for him.

I glance at the time. 6:37 AM. Harry doesn't need me until 12... If I left now I would have enough time, just. If.

Star wouldn't do it, no way. But I suppose Mum knows that and wouldn't even bother to ask her, Mum just thinks I'm a soft touch.

McCartney is even more annoying than my parents.

He's still my brother though. When he found out that Tyler cheated on me he punched him... Although I think he was experimenting with steroids at the time and his aggression was almost certainly a side effect of that, the sentiment was there. Sort of. I can't just leave him in jail if he needs me.

With a groan, I grab the phone to call down to reception to arrange a car to get me there.

***

McCartney is just as revoltingly obnoxious as I remember him to be. He's acting as if he's done me a favour and has irritated our driver by insisting lying across the back seat with the heels of his feet out of the window. To my extreme annoyance, the moment we left the police station, with the formal words of the police chief ringing in our ears, Mac insists that we pull over so that he can buy 2 cheap bottles of red wine and some cigarettes.

"You need to sort yourself out." I snap, as he sticks his legs out of the window and slurps his wine.

"I just don't know what happened to you Len." He drawls. "You used to be so chill. Now you sound exactly like Star, dude."

"Well, maybe Star has a point-"

"No, no, noooo." He laughs, sitting up and sloshing his wine as he points at me. "You don't get to do that, dude! It was always me, you and Harrison against Star. You two annoyed the life out of each other! You were always the chill one and she was so prissy and uptight."

My phone begins to ring loudly from an unknown number and I glare at Mac to silence him before answering. He holds his hands up in submission, spilling wine across his chest as he does. I avoid the drivers scowl and as I answer.

"Hello, Lennon speaking."

I ignore Macs snorts of derision at my phone voice.

"Lennon? It's Lydia."

Great. My second unwanted phone call of the day.

"We need you here. Harry has been invited for a solo interview-"

"What, suddenly?"

"Yes." She snaps. "I'm not sure if you've forgotten Lennon, but we have an album to promote. Perhaps I should have asked, am I allowed to accept an interview in order to promote the album without your permission?" She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jeezo. Lydia has been pretending to be nice for the past couple of weeks and I'd almost forgotten what it's like dealing with her in full bitch mode.

"Does Harry need me there?" I fight to keep my tone polite.

"You're his PA!" Her voice is so high that they could start using it as a dog whistle.

"Right, will I can be there in-"

"You'll be here in 10 minutes."

I glance at the clock. It's another 45 minutes to the hotel.
20 to the location for the interview.

I glance at McCartney in the back seat, who is playing a rather vicious air guitar to Bon Jovi.

I'm supposed to keep him with me until he leaves the country tomorrow. Not so bad when Harry only needed me at the soundcheck and actual gig... But for interviews.

"I expect you here-"

"I can make it in 20 minutes." I sigh, cringing as I watch McCartney in the mirror.

***

"I can just part ways with you here little dude.."

"No chance." I grab Macs arm and steer him into the large building. There's no way I'm getting arrested on his behalf. "You're with me until tomorrow morning." I say grimly. "Don't talk to Harry or anyone else, just sit quietly in the corner-"

"Hey dude, I'll be like a ghost. You won't even realise I'm there."

Lydia is waiting as we enter the room. She's holding out her hand and looking away from me. It's a little power technique. She's waiting for me to place the Harry's diary in her hand without her having to look at me.

"Sweet." Mac grins down at her out-stretched palm. "Check this out! Maid service!"

With that he flings a strap from his heavy, flithy backpack into Lydia's open palm.

The unexpected weight nearly topples her and she swings round to glare at him furiously.

Oh my Christ. I've never seen Lydia look so annoyed.

"Just put that somewhere for me, peaches." Mac grins at her.

He scrabbles in his pocket and pulls out a single euro. With a wink he presses it into her palm as a tip. "There you go babe."

He smiles at a gobsmacked Lydia and strides into the room.

I want to apologise but the utterly astonished, outraged look on Lydia's face is too much and I have to stop myself from giggling ,so I hurry past the spot where she is still clutching Macs backpack and looking shellshocked.

The arrival of a shoeless man in tye-dye harem pants and a string vest has caused a bit of a stir, but true to his word, Mac sits in a corner of the room and doesn't even attempt to speak to me.

Louis gives him a big thumbs up and cheeky grin before his make up artist grabs his chin and continues plastering make up on his face.

"That could only be another Lovelace." A deep voice says in my ear. I turn to see Harry stood behind me, smiling. His face is an odd shade of orange and his lips are shimmering pink, ready for the photoshoot.

"Yep, there's my brother Mccartney." I mutter.

"Thought so. You Lovelaces give off a weird aura." He grins. His foundation is so thick it almost cracks.

"Ok then, RuPaul." I smirk, laughing at his made up face.

"Oh, you did not-"

Before he has chance to give a decent come back, an incredibly disgruntled Lydia is back in the room, barking orders to everyone unfortunate enough to cross her path.

The band are asked to pose and they group close together as the photographer snaps. Somehow they don't seem to be gelling and getting a decent shot. Zayn in particular seems to be having a bad day.

There's a loud tut behind me. At first I think its about the awkward photo poses before I realise that McCartney has stuck to his 'being invisible' promise for roughly four minutes.

The tut was from one of Ty's senior PR partners and I follow her line of vision to the buffet table where my brother is currently balancing 3 paper plates overloaded with food whilst cramming cake into his mouth. One of the catering staff watches him in disgust and Mac catches the guys eye. He opens his mouth to speak and a large, chewed up glob of cake falls out.

"Hey man, can you help me carry this? I've got the munchies." He says thickly through his cake. "You know what I mean." He winks and thrusts his plates into the disgruntled guys hands before turning back and grabbing another plate. People all around the room are beginning to glance over and Mac looks up at the catering guy. "I'm sitting over there man, just take it over."

I slip over to where Mac is shoving sausages in his mouth, while fingering all the rest of the buffet.

"Sit down." I hiss through my teeth, pretending to smile widely at the people covertly glancing at us.

"Huh?" He looks up and follows my gaze to the people watching in disgust as food falls out of his mouth and on to the buffet. "Oh right! Gotcha lil' sis." He places a finger to his lips and creeps backwards towards his own seat.

Its all quiet for a minute, apart from the photographers instructions until a loud chomping comes from behind me. I grit my teeth and ignore it, staring straight ahead to the boys being photographed. The lip smacking sound is incredibly loud in the quiet room and as I stare at Harry I see his lips twitch upwards. His eyes dart brieftly to where Mac is lolling at the back of the room and he actually snorts, earning himself a confused glance from Liam.

After the photoshoot has finished,I head over to the corner of the room for Harry's interview. Despite Lydia's insistence that I attend, it ends up just being a 10 minute chat about the tour with a particularly smiley Portuguese interviewer. The whole time my eyes are fixed on Mac, who seems to have struck up a conversation with Louis. As soon as the interview is over, I weave my way over to them with Harry trailing behind. Mac is talking, still swigging at his wine bottle and its only as I draw nearer that I can hear him.

"... So I was like, fine Mr big-shot immigration. Ban me from your whole country dude, like the chicks weren't even that hot and-'

"Mac." I can feel fire creeping up my cheeks.

"Oh. Hey Len, was just telling your Lil buddy Lewis here about my time in the Middle East."

Louis' places his hand over his eyes and shakes his head, laughing. Mac spots Harry and stands up, watching as Harry holds out a hand to shake. Mac ignores the gesture and grabs Harry's shoulders. He closes his eyes and leans forwards, pressing his forehead to Harry's.

Harry's eyes widen as Mac rests his forehead there before pulls back and to my utter mortification, blowing softly on Harry's face.

I want to die.

"Peace my dude" Mac presses his hands together and bows slightly.

"Right. Nice to meet you mate." Harry nods, looking startled.

"Why don't you go see whats happening over there?" I say to Harry, gesturing to other side of the room where Liam and Niall are playing ping pong. Unsurprisingly, everyone is avoiding the buffet.

"Nah, sit down man!" Mac ignores my glare. Just because I have to stay with him for the next 24 hours, it doesn't mean I want to inflict it on anyone else. I groan as Harry perches himself on a seat opposite. Mac smiles as he picks grossly at his belly button through his string vest. "So, you're the dude Len took home to meet my parents?"

"Thats right." Harry smiles.

"Cool. Mum said you were ex-illuminati or something. It's good that you've seen the light, I hope you're passing all you can on to our side."

"Absolutely." I can see Harry is fighting to keep a straight face as I groan.

"Cool man." Mac swigs deeply at his bottle of wine and looks round. "So this band of yours, Big Erection?"

"One Direction." Harry says, a muscle in his cheek is quivering and the fact he's finding this so funny overrides my embarassment.

The next hour passes slowly, mainly because Mac launches into a long story about him becoming a tribal elder in an Amazonian tribe. I sincerely doubt every single word of this story, in fact I'd bet everything I own on it just being a trippy dream he had.

I'm not too bothered about Macs random ramblings until Lydia and Joe join us to watch the sound check. After every song Mac gets to his feet to cheer loudly and its very distracting. Lydia is still furious about earlier but if Mac has noticed, he isn't bothered in the slightest.

"You know, I reckon shagged a chick who used to work for this band." Mac says loudly to Ty as the boys take a rest.

Ty grins to where I'm cringing into myself, ignoring Lydia's disapproving glare.

"Is that right?" Ty laughs.

"Yeah she was crazy. Red-haired and completely wild. She got a bit too clingy for me." Mac picks his nose absentmindly and rubs his finger on his trousers.

Lydia sniffs loudly. Mac only got away with being here by Harry claiming it was his special guest.

"Yeah crazy chick. Like I said, she worked for these guys. She was called Monica." Mac shakes his head, remembering.

We all freeze.

Monica, Lydia's niece.
Almightly bitch.
Harry's other PA.
Snooty cow extrodinaire.

Lydia chokes as she stares at Mac.

The thought of Monica obsessed with my brother is too much and we all stare at him.

"What?" He stares at our amazed faces and takes a deep swig from his bottle.

***

I watch in relief as the plane carrying my brother away from the country and away from my responsibility flies overhead.

He caused a ruckus at the show last night by being extremely drunk and trying to storm the stage with his authentic mini African drum, but Ty managed to wrestle him into a car before anyone really noticed.

Monica and McCartney.

How weird.

Somehow, I've got a feeling Lydia is going to blame me for that.

***

AN- Merry Christmas!

I have a new phone and its weird, I can't get used to the keyboard, sorry for any weird typos or random commas 😶

Seeing as how I have my own place now I thought 'oh I know, I'll show off my adulting skills by inviting my parents and brothers round for xmas dinner.'
I have 6 brothers so its pretty brave. Anyway, halfway through cooking I decided to wash the pots. I was interrupted by a frantic hammering on the door and basically, my water pipes had burst and flooded into the flat below. Like fully, flooding down the walls 😭 It wasn't my fault but my neighbour was furious and shouted at me.
My TV broke and didnt record the two specials I wanted to watch, Dr Who and British Bake Off.
Also, food was going terribly until my ma arrived to shove me out the way and take over 😂

All in all, it was a disaster. But later on I was sat watching TV with my littlest brothers and they were so happy to just be with the whole family and so unbothered that the food had been a washout, all they cared about was us all playing games and being eiyh,everyone and that made the whole day good.

Anyway, guess who has wrote the next update?

Me thats who.

I'll update on new years day.

Dedicated to

In the words of McCartney Lovelace, peace out.