(Harry's POV)

There are other things in my life that I would rather be doing instead of having a meeting with management. Anything they say to us will end up with us either doing an interview and a show on some talk show, or making a public appearance somewhere. We already made the public appearance and see where that got us.

I cringed slightly when Niall popped my wheelchair into a wheelie. It hit the ground hard and shot pain up my leg, but I bit my lip and dealt with it. Paul must have seen my discomfort because he took over the duties of rolling me around. My white board was in my lap and I tapped my fingers over it to the beat of one of our songs. I tried to hum the tune, but the reverberations it caused in my ears hurt too much. I sighed and shoved the white board between my thigh and the side of the chair. I adjusted my hat over my ears just in case some paparazzi made their way into the building and was secretly snapping photo’s of us. It already looked bad with me in a wheelchair, but hey, crutches hurt my armpits.

I turned to look at Louis who looked especially nervous. We had had a couple meetings with management about our friendship ending up with ‘we need to tone it down.’ Really, there was nothing to tone down since all we were being was best mates. I grumbled and Louis caught it. He gave me a small smile and held the door open for Paul to wheel me through to the main part of the building where a receptionist met us. Her eyes widened as she saw the states we were in. Compared to the rest of the guys, I must have looked like hell, although they looked pretty rough as well.

Liam’s black eyes from his broken nose were dutifully covered up with some makeup Danielle had applied, but you could still see how tired he looked. He also kept grabbing his shoulder, which we all knew was still bothering him. The cut on Louis’ forehead was healing, but the bruises still looked a bit nasty. He didn’t even bother with any sort of makeup. He only brushed his hand over the cut in hopes of hiding it. Zayn and Niall looked overall okay, maybe a little tired, but no obvious injuries. I never asked them how they felt, which made me feel bad since they were always helping me out and asking if I was okay. I really needed to be a better friend.

We stayed in the office lobby for some time as the receptionist disappeared and then came back to show us to the meeting room. It was a typical conference room. One side of the room was completely windows. There was a large long table in the center of the room with office chairs lined around it. The boys sat down and didn’t move. Usually they would be bumping into each other, but this was serious. They sat in silence, their mouths not moving an inch.  Paul sat in the seat next to me and grabbed my shoulder. I looked over to him and he gave me a reassuring smile. His smiled spread across the whole room and everyone felt at ease. I pulled out my white board to ask a question, but an over enthusiastic guy in a expensive looking suit burst into the room and looked like he was talking loudly. He didn’t look like anyone we knew from management which led me to believe he was just there to convey the message from management themselves. I groaned and laid my head against the tabletop. This was going to be hard to keep up with.

It was a good thing he had a presentation. It was a little ridiculous, but still good. It involved some interviews and some dates that we had to keep in mind. I groaned again, one of the interviews was a week from that day. I raised my hand and cleared my throat. I was going to try speaking, but Paul motioned to my white board. He knew it was hard for me to relay my thoughts into words with the lack of my sense of hearing.

What should I do? I asked.

The suited man took his chin in his hand and shook his head. His lips moved and I rolled my eyes. At least try, man. I’m sort of deaf over here. He seemed to be asking a question to everyone else and ignoring me. I huffed and rubbed away the marker from my board with the side of my hand.

Excuse me?

 I raised an eyebrow at the guy and cleared my throat loudly so that he would look my way. He clapped his hands together and trying to convey his message to me through hand gestures. All I got was his hands flapping around his ears and then spilling out from his mouth. I titled my head, looking at the guy like he was the dumbest person in the world. I hated the way I was being at that moment. I wouldn’t normally think such harsh thoughts, but this whole not being able to hear thing was getting on my nerves. I just wished there was some way to fix it, but unfortunately the damage wasn’t so bad that I needed surgery.

Paul leaned over and grabbed my board, writing his own message below mine.

Apparently, he wants you to use your words.  I looked at Paul in horror. He knew it was hard. Hell, the rest of the guys knew that it was near impossible and made me feel like shit when I tried to use y vocal cords and couldn’t even hear the words I was saying.

“Are you a bloody idiot? I can’t answer questions at a stupid interview. I can’t even hear myself.” I said, aloud. The representative from management looked shocked. I covered my mouth quickly, and he smiled. Shit. He knew I could talk perfectly fine, but that was a spur of the moment, rage induced outburst. I inwardly cursed myself and curled in on myself, crossing my arms over my chest and pressing my head to the tabletop once more. Thinking this was going to hard was the understatement of the century. This was going to be a bloody nightmare.

The representative continued on with the interview and the presentation behind him gave us all of the dos and don’ts. Half of which were ridiculous. Nobody was to mention anyone drinking the night of the crash, even though the crash was about someone else being drunk and hitting us. We were allowed to answer questions regarding our health. I sighed with relief. Maybe that meant that I wouldn’t have to answer as many questions because of my hearing problem. After the list was given, the representative looked at me especially. He took my board, finally realizing that was the best way to communicate with me. He wrote a lot, and I waited impatiently for whatever this over-enthusiastic guy was going to say. He handed me the board minutes later and I held it, staring in disbelief at the words it said.

We know that you are currently healing and that your hearing won’t be back for some time, but we would like you to keep that information away from the public. Act normal, like none of it happened. We cannot do anything about the cast on your leg, but your fans will be distressed if they knew. We don’t want to cause a scene.

I was about to cause a scene right then and there. This guy was seriously an imbecile. How the hell was I supposed to keep this all hidden? I suppose that management just think that I am milking this situation and everything is just normal. Well, news flash. I am not okay. I don’t think I will ever be okay. I can’t just hide this. Me being able to hear, to talk, to sing… That’s my life, and it’s been taken away. Management just wants me to act normal? Again, how in the hell do I do that? I just wanted to throw the white board at the guy’s face, but I decide against it and just sit quietly. I never give any sign of approval to the representative, and he just assumes I will oblige. He moves onto the next bit of business and turns to Zayn.

After a few more conversations between the representative and Zayn, Zayn signed a paper and looked overall displeased. I pulled my phone out to connect with the world for the first time in a while. I had been resting and completely ignoring the outside world for the most part of the week, but something told me that this meeting with management wasn’t just about the crash. Instantly, there was a bombardment of twitter posts, all asking about why Zayn knocked this guys camera out of his hand and broke it. I chuckled, imagining Zayn doing such a thing. Then I saw the photos and saw how pissed he looked.

I peaked over my phone and looked at Zayn. He was getting his ass handed to him by Paul and the representative. He just sat in his seat and stared at his hands that were together on the table before him. He glanced over at me and made a goofy face. I chuckled again before he returned to his stoic self and took the banter from Paul and the suited man. The conversations went down the line and everyone was spoken too. I looked towards Niall who was tapping away at his phone. Liam stood up and waved his goodbye before grabbing Niall’s shirt and lifting him out of the chair. Zayn visibly huffed and got up as well. Last was Louis. He situated himself behind my wheelchair and we all left the room. Paul stayed behind just a little longer, hopefully to explain to the representative that an interview wasn’t the answer as of then. He came out of the room, a sour look on his face. He checked his watch and rushed us out of the building and back into the car.

What’s going on? I ask, holding my board up. Niall takes it from me and with a smile on his face, writes down what is up next.

We’re going to go see Lou.  He added a small smiley face at the end and my face lit up.  Lou Teasdale. I loved that woman. She was the best, and hopefully she could get me some clothes that didn’t look bad even with this cast all the way up my leg. Hopefully seeing her would bring everyone back into a good mood.

A/N: Please vote and comment and do all the things! -Jach