My eyes drew to a close as I now forced myself to turn back in my chair, repositioning myself to face the desk as I had before. I couldn't look at him for a second longer.
I was unsure of how to feel - all that came to mind was intense humiliation at his presence in the room. There was no way - there was surely no way, that I was signing myself up to work alongside Harry.
I had to force myself not to bury my face in my hands in fear that would even further emphasise the blatant awkwardness of our situation. The way Harry had stopped dead in his tracks; the way we'd stared at each other for uncomfortably long, there was no way that a million alarm bells of confusion weren't ringing in Ally's head. I dared to peer back up at her, my pen still grasped between my fingers as her eyes, as expected, travelled between Harry and I, a puzzled look upon her features at Harry's previous exclamation.
She furrowed her eyebrows, "Do you two know each other?" No. Yes. Well, not really. I wasn't exactly planning on telling her that we'd just about crossed first name basis before I'd gone back to his house and unexpectedly had the best sex of my life. That probably wouldn't have been the best way to lead. But I figured it was already pretty clear that Harry and I weren't strangers, thanks to both of us being clearly bewildered at the sight of the other.
I began to think of a small, simple lie to justify our paths having crossed. "Well-"
"No," Harry's voice cut across my own, quickly and firmly, and I spun my head around to face him again. I narrowed my eyes at him, as he didn't meet my eye now. "Actually, Ally - you're so busy. I can introduce myself and get to know Isabella out here," he gestured towards the door, still refusing to look at me. I felt a jolt in my chest at the idea of speaking to him privately.
I turned back to Ally, who still appeared slightly, and unsurprisingly, unconvinced. I brought my lip back between my teeth, again willing the ground to open up and finish me off. I wasn't sure what he was doing, but I didn't really want to join him in the hallway.
"Isabella," he said, capturing my attention once more as he had now pulled the door open, gesturing for me to step outside. His eyes were almost pleading with my own, and I had to ignore the slight flutter I felt in my stomach as he cocked his head towards the hall. I refrained from sighing as I stood up, catching Ally's puzzled eyes one more, before I obliged with Harry's request, and stepped out into the hallway. He followed swiftly behind me, pulling the door shut.
"Are you crazy?" I hissed as soon as the door clicked behind him, and he now stood only inches away from me. It was like as soon as I was alone and face to face with him, I found myself equipped with that odd sensation of confidence that I'd also managed to find on the night that I'd met him. He only brought his finger to his lips, silencing me, causing me to frown.
"Not here," he hissed back with a furrow of his eyebrows, almost appearing annoyed as he gestured for me to follow him again. He stepped past me to walk along the corridor that I'd only occupied a few minutes ago with Natalie. I followed, reluctantly, still unable to quite fathom the situation I'd found myself in. As I watched the back of his head, and as he took his long, quick strides across the floor, I couldn't help but be transported back to the night we'd spent together; recalling the urgency in which he'd headed down the street in search of somewhere to take me. He monitored our surroundings in the very same way, but this time, he wasn't aching to get his hands on me - it was like he was aching to hide me.
Finally, he stopped outside another room, that to me, appeared no different from Ally's - the same slick, black door faced me, and he pushed it open, holding it for me to step inside. It was pitch black, until he flicked a light on, and I found it was, quite literally, the same office as Ally's, only unoccupied.
"What are you doing here?" he asked me, now, folding his arms as we stood in the office. I narrowed my eyes at him in confusion, knowing full well that Ally had just made him aware, in front of me, of my new job title.
"I'm your new photographer," I said, as if it were obvious. Had he even been listening inside of Ally's office?
"No, but really. What are you trying to pull here?" His features had almost begun to resemble a scowl - the way he was looking at me, studying me carefully, looking to analyse my own movements was beginning to unsettle me. "Is this some kind of game you're playing?"
"What?" I almost laughed.
"Are you trying to blackmail me, here?" he pressed, and I paused for a moment, my lips parted in surprise as I watched his face carefully for any sign of a joke. I leaned back against the desk, burying my face into my hands.
"Oh my god, you're serious," I breathed a humourless chuckle, shaking my head before pulling my face from my hands. "You think I'm trying to blackmail you? With what, exactly?"
"With the other night." The volume of his voice had lowered significantly, but it wasn't any less firm. I gazed up at him, entirely puzzled by his accusation.
"Why the hell would I do that? You genuinely think that I would take a job on your tour just to hang that we slept together over your head?" I shot back, growing impatient. I hadn't done anything to give him the impression that I would do something like that. It shouldn't have offended me - Harry didn't know me very well at all, and so his accusation couldn't have been laced with anything personal, but I couldn't help but be taken aback by the way he was speaking to me. I also couldn't help but feel a strange pang in my chest at his behaviour - it was like he was embarrassed to have spent that night with me, and seemed to fear anybody catching onto the fact it happened. I didn't dare let myself start to dwell on his clear embarrassment; I didn't dare let it hurt me that he was clearly regretful of having slept with me, and that he appeared deeply humiliated by it - I couldn't let that occupy my head, at least not there and then.
"You didn't mention anything about being a photographer the other night," he pointed out, his eyebrows raising, and I scoffed at the irony.
"Oh? And you also forgot to mention that you're Harry fucking Styles," I returned, with equal frustration, and his face fell to a blank expression. He knew I was right. He'd tried, for whatever reason, to downplay his identity into just being 'Harry', who 'sang a bit', I remembered that much. It was beyond ironic that he was accusing me of failing to mention what he presumed was my profession.
I leant back against the desk, exasperated. This was not how I'd expected this evening to go, but then again, this was becoming the pattern of my chaotic week. Maybe this was my life now; twists and turns and relentless surprises that I was not at all prepared for.
"I'm sorry," he said, quietly, taking a tentative step towards me, before he appeared to stop himself, hovering awkwardly a few feet away from me. I wasn't quite sure if he was apologising for his omission of his identity the other night, or for his behaviour and subsequent outburst tonight, and his hurling of accusations at me, but I didn't respond. We fell back into silence for a moment, both of our eyes fixed on the floor, before he broke it again. "You can't sign that contract, Isabella." My heart couldn't help but sink at his words.
"You can't be serious. How do you know I haven't signed it already?"
"Because I saw that you hadn't, before I pulled you out here," he said, and I scoffed again, shaking my head as I tore my eyes from him. So he'd pulled me out here in an attempt to convince me to shirk my opportunity and, basically, to go back to wherever I'd come from, out of his way. At this point, I didn't even want to look at him. "You need to tell Ally you've changed your mind, and you don't want the job."
"You're unbelievable, Harry," I told him, standing up from where I'd been leaning on the desk, and brushing past him to head for the door.
He surprised me by blocking my path, "You're not listening-"
"No, I hear you loud and clear. I just can't quite fathom how unbelievably arrogant and shortsighted you can be," I said, watching his eyes widen at my words. I, too, was a little shocked that they'd left my mouth, but I refused to allow him to push me around. There was something about him that made me want to stand my ground; that enabled me to feel like I had a right to defy his words, rather than simply accept them as law; that my opinion, and my thoughts held weight. It was like I could sense that although he wouldn't like what I was saying, he would somehow respect that I'd said it.
"You think I came here to manipulate and blackmail you?" I spat, narrowing my eyes up at him as he met my gaze. "I need this job. This is the biggest opportunity that I have ever been offered - I have been fighting with myself all week over whether I should take this; whether I should do this for myself, and take this chance," I told him, growing more and more irritated as I spoke, whilst his face was still telling me that he was taken aback by my words, "I earned this opportunity; I deserve this job, and I won't let it slip through my fingers because you're embarrassed that we hooked up." I emphasised the final part of my sentence, watching his lips part at my words. And really, I figured I was trying to convince myself more than I was trying to convince him - the battle I'd been having with myself, in my own head, all week, about whether this was the right thing to do was playing enough on my mind, without Harry adding to it. It was almost laughable - I'd feared, and avoided, and talked myself out of it more times than I could count in those past few days, but now that somebody else was seeking to take it from me, I wouldn't let it happen; I couldn't. I remembered what Johnny had said to me - this was mine, and I needed to run with it. And in the face of adversity in the form of Harry, I would do just that.
Harry had yet to speak, and still appeared to be in shock as I pushed past him to reach for the door handle. It was rather funny - he didn't know me at all, yet even he seemed to be able to recognise that my firm standing was completely out of character. I wondered if he was just good at reading people, in that way, or maybe it was just that obvious that I was usually a passive person against others. Or, instead, maybe he was simply bewildered that somebody had dared to put him in his place.
Just as I went to make my exit, his voice sounded again. "Isabella," he said gently, as I felt his hand wrap around my wrist, stopping me from leaving the room. I turned back to face him, finding his face to be much softer than it had been for the remainder of our conversation. I sighed, having to force myself not to fall into the enthralling green of his eyes, or the allure of the way his lips looked as I heard my name from them. "You can't tell anybody what happened between us."
I searched his eyes for a moment, looking for even a hint of the charm and enticement I'd found in them a week ago. I forced my thoughts away from the way his skin felt on mine; the heat I could feel on my wrist where he held it, cut through only by the cool metal of his rings. I shook my head, my irritation now only beginning to fester at his behaviour. I tore my wrist from his grip, pulling the door open again. "Consider it forgotten," I chided, before I turned and walked out of the room without a second glance.
My heart was racing as I stormed back down the hall towards Ally's office. How dare he? He had absolutely no idea what this opportunity meant to me, and he didn't care. All he could think about was himself. All he could think about was his humiliation; saving his ego after he'd made the seemingly, ever-so-awful error of sleeping with me.
I wished there and then that I'd never met him that night in Johnny's. That night had felt so intimate, so oddly special, and enchanting. I'd thought so fondly of it in the days to follow, perhaps naively. I'd never have imagined he would go on to leave such a bad taste in my mouth; to attempt to take away, and taint the biggest opportunity I'd ever received.
This was just a new obstacle - it was different in nature, and unexpected, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. I would have to handle it. This couldn't deter me; I couldn't let it. I couldn't let Johnny and Grace down, I couldn't let myself down. Not again.
I forgot to knock as I re-entered Ally's office, capturing her eye again. I was sure my face must have resembled thunder; the cloud of emotions in my head too much to even articulate as my mind bitterly raced over the words Harry and I had just exchanged. Ally looked up at me, curiously, as I sat back down in the seat I'd occupied before.
"Is everything alright, Isabella?" she asked, her eyes watching me suspiciously. It was almost laughable that Harry had just spent the last few minutes desperate to convince me to keep what had happened between us a secret - as if I would've told anybody otherwise - but he'd made it so, incredibly obvious, in the presence of Ally, that something was going on. He had not an ounce of subtlety to the point where, if anything, he'd worsened the situation, himself. I couldn't wrap my head around his behaviour.
"Everything's great," I told her, plastering a smile onto my face as I picked up my pen, and signed the contract without another word.
When I'd arrived back at the flat later that evening, and finally begun to tackle the burden of packing, Grace had joined me in my room. She sat cross-legged on the edge of my bed, as I sat surrounded by piles of my clothes on the floor.
"We really should've gone shopping for this," she sighed, as I held up an old t-shirt, causing her to shake her head with a grimace and point away from the suitcase, signalling for me to leave it behind.
I followed her lead, tossing it aside and reaching for some other clothes, "Agreed. Maybe I'll try and get some new stuff while I'm out there," I suggested with a shrug, not sure if I really meant it. The shortage of clothes I felt were suitable was really starting to remind me of how out of place I would be on this tour. I knew the photographer wasn't exactly spotlighted, and it wouldn't really matter what I wore, but I wanted to make an impression - a good one.
"So.." I trailed off, folding a pair of jeans and slotting them into my case. I didn't look up at Grace, but I knew she could already pre-empt that there had been something on my mind. I'd yet to tell her what had happened at my meeting with Ally - when I'd gotten home, I'd told her it had gone well, and the contract was all signed. I was still reeling from my interaction with Harry, and I wasn't quite sure how to word it to her. But I knew I needed to get it off my chest, and share it with her before I left the following day.
I looked up, to see her watching me with raised eyebrows, waiting for my continuation. I bit my lip, almost having to stifle a laugh at the insanity of this situation.
"So," I repeated, stalling a little. I blew out a breath, setting my clothes down. "Remember that guy Harry.. the one I told you about last week?"
"You didn't tell me much," she pointed out with a knowing grin, "but yes, of course, I remember."
I brought my knees to my chest, squeezing them tightly, deciding simply to just spit it out. I couldn't avoid it anymore. "It was Harry Styles."
I watched her jaw drop, her eyes widening at my statement, almost doing a literal double-take at my words. "You're joking."
I shook my head, "I'm not." I wished I was.
"You fucked Harry Styles, and didn't tell me?!" she shrieked, standing up from the bed and bringing her hands to clasp over her mouth in shock. I winced at the volume of her statement. I knew she was a big fan of his, even now. When we were only sixteen or seventeen, I remembered how her parents had forked out for us to go to a concert of the band Harry was formerly a member of, One Direction, in London for Grace's birthday - I didn't know anybody who, like us, weren't massive fans aching to see them play live. As I'd grown up, I'd lost touch with a lot of that fun; with that enjoyment of music, and artists, alike. I'd lost touch with, and love for a lot of things. But it was still one of my favourite memories growing up - that show had been one of my favourite escapes. I'd never have imagined myself to be here, now, complaining about Harry Styles, post-hookup and a subsequent argument, before I joined him on his solo tour the following day.
"Grace, that's not even the crazy part of this story," I watched her dramatically pace around the room, miming fanning herself with her hand, causing me to laugh a little. "It's his tour. He's the artist I'll be working for."
Somehow, her jaw dropped even further, as she looked at me like I'd just threatened to kill her. "Izzy, you're fucking joking," she said, dropping to crouch down beside me. "I'm gonna faint," she threw herself, theatrically, onto her back on the ground beside me, earning another laugh from me.
"Grace, I'm sort of freaking out about it," I admitted through my laughter, my stomach starting to twist in anxiety again.
"How did you find out it was him?" she asked, excitedly, sitting up with sudden vigour. "Was his name just on your contract or something?"
"That, and he showed up halfway through my meeting with Ally," I told her, watching her throw herself back down again.
"Oh my god, you're trying to kill me," she hit the ground once more, before rising back up to meet me in a seated position. "No wonder Ally didn't tell me it was him. It was her who got us those tickets to see the band back in the day! She knew I'd freak out!" She put the pieces together, an excited look on her face. "So what happened? Did he sneak you off on another little rendevous?" she teased, pretending to fan herself again.
"Far from it," I told her. I then informed her of everything that had happened that evening - the way Harry had pulled me from the room and more or less begged me not to take the job; the fact he'd tried to accuse me of pulling some kind of trickery on him; and the way he'd pleaded with me to keep what had happened between us, quiet. I didn't quite mention the uncomfortable stirring I'd felt in my chest at his clear embarrassment and regret at our night together, because I was trying my best not to let myself spiral at that fact, and begin to overanalyse all the reasons why he wouldn't want to be associated with me. Grace followed along with my narration exactly as she always did - she never disappointed, always nodding and shaking her head at the right moments, gasping and frowning when the story required it. I would miss our chats on my bedroom floor whilst I was away - I knew I could call, and text, but it wouldn't be the same as sitting here, with her, divulging our deepest and darkest thoughts.
"Wow," was all she said, as I finished what I was saying. She appeared bewildered, unsurprisingly, bringing her thumb to her lips so that she could bite her nail in thought. "I don't even know what to say... he seems like an asshole," she said firmly, shaking her head. "I mean, how dare he speak to you like that?" A small smile tugged at my lips at her defence of me, grateful for her understanding, as always. "But you can't let it deter you, Izzy, not now."
I sighed, "I'm trying not to. But it seems like a lot of signs are beginning to point to this trip being a bad idea. Harry didn't exactly hold back."
"No," Grace said firmly, her hand landing on my arm, understanding and reading me and my hesitations with such ease. "We're not thinking that way. You've come so, so far this week. You deserve this - this is the right thing to do, I promise you," she squeezed my arm, now, and I nodded. I hoped that at some point, I'd be able to believe her.
Grace had helped me finish packing, putting on an old One Direction playlist of hers in an attempt to lighten the mood. I'd laughed, throwing one of my shirts that I'd been folding at her, as she'd occasionally put on a song of Harry's, just to watch me shuffle in discomfort before, finally, she relented, and put on some other nostalgic music that eased my mood much more. It felt weird, cramming as much of my life into a couple of suitcases to last me two months, travelling across America. But I supposed that was how things would be now - weird.
I'd barely slept into Friday morning, nervously anticipating the day that was to come ahead of me. The only thing stabilising my nerves at all was knowing that I got to see Johnny again before I left. I had to leave for the airport around lunchtime, and so I had plans to head to Johnny's, as he had requested, for around nine.
I could already feel overwhelming emotion at the thought of saying goodbye to him - properly, this time. Part of me wished I'd been strong enough to tell him earlier this week that I'd be leaving, so that I could have properly savoured these past few days, but I also wondered that if I'd given myself too much time to be upset about leaving Johnny, I may have decided not to go at all.
When I arrived at the bar and found the door to be unlocked out of his working hours, as he had promised me it would be, I pushed it open, causing the familiar bell to ring out. I stepped inside, to find Johnny seated on a bar stool, awaiting my arrival. He looked up with a wide grin, lifting himself in a slow motion from the chair, letting out a grunt at the apparent stiffness of his old knees. As he pulled me into a tight hug, I could've broken down there and then, inhaling the scent of laundry detergent from his clothes.
"Oh, don't," he laughed into my shoulder, sensing my weakened composure, before he released me from our hug, settling back into his stool. I moved to the seat next to him. "You're gonna set me off, now," he shook his head, and I bit back a fond smile.
"I'm so, so unbelievably proud of you, sweetheart," he said, now, reaching for my hand to squeeze it in his. I didn't trust myself to speak, in fear it would come out as a pathetic attempt at words. I only nodded, chewing on my lip in an attempt to compose myself. "I've had my eye on this for a while, for you. After you told me last night, I had to run out and get it." I frowned, puzzled by his words, until he slid a small, square cardboard box in front of me. My heart fluttered with warmth - I didn't know what it was, but the fact he'd even thought of buying me a gift before I left was causing another pang in my chest.
"Johnny," I breathed, so deeply moved before I could even open the box. "You didn't have to get me anything."
"You know the old market, down the street? When they set the stalls up twice a week?" he asked me, dismissing my former words. "I've been planning to get you this for a few months - you leaving just meant that I needed to speed up the process."
I pulled the cardboard lid between my fingers, lifting it tentatively. I peeled back the couple of layers of tissue paper beneath the lid, and brought my hand over my mouth at the sight of the gift in front of me. If I'd known how to express the emotions I was feeling, properly, it would've happened in that moment - but I didn't. I reached over to tug Johnny into another impossibly tight hug. He laughed warmly, allowing me to squeeze him.
"There's black and white film in there, too," he said, as I buried my face into his shoulder. "I'm not sure it's an everyday camera, but for special occasions, it'll certainly do. I thought it was very you."
"It's perfect," I breathed, "thank you. Thank you so, so much, Johnny." I had yet to release my grip on him, I almost didn't dare to let go, until I realised if I didn't, then, I probably never would. I drew back in my chair, finally pulling my gift from its box. It was a camera; a beautiful, old, and clearly well-loved camera. I could tell it wouldn't have been cheap, however - these days, vintage styles of cameras were growing in popularity, as modernising aesthetics demanded, and I was so, deeply grateful that Johnny had seen it and thought of me.
The rest of the time that I spent bidding goodbye to Johnny went by in a blur. I'd left his bar with my new camera clasped to my chest, safely in its box, and I'd almost had to force myself out of there before I decided against leaving altogether. I knew I'd be able to call Johnny if I needed him, as I would Grace, but it still didn't mask the twist in my chest I felt at leaving him behind, even if it was only for a couple of months.
I'd become so oddly accustomed to the life I'd built for myself in London, even if I hadn't exactly been living the way I'd wanted to. My degree wasn't working; my job wasn't working - often, I was enveloped in pure misery, but both Johnny and Grace had acted as my lifelines throughout it all. In an ironic sort of way, though I hadn't branched into the profession I'd wanted to, and I'd gone against all my own desires - somehow, the life I'd built in London was the first thing that I felt was truly mine. Despite my motivations, and how often they caused me emotional turmoil, I had control, or at least I believed I did. I was proving a point against all they had ever told me. London had come to represent that for me, but now, I finally had the courage to place that on pause.
Grace had clung onto me so tightly at the airport that day that I could feel my body growing numb. I clung onto her just as tightly, my suitcase resting at my side.
"God, I'm gonna miss you so much," she whispered solemly into my ear as we hugged. Grace was very rarely serious; always able to uplift any situation with a quick-witted comment or joke, but she had been, perhaps, the only constant in my life since I was young. She was the only person that I could, confidently, say that I'd never doubted loved me. She'd been there through absolutely everything - every twist, every turn, all of the heartache, all of the pain. She'd always, always been there. I could only hope to have been half the friend for her that she was for me.
"Don't," I warned playfully, drawing back to look at her. I couldn't take many more of these emotional conversations. "I'm gonna miss you, too. So much."
She laughed, sniffling. "I know it's only two months, but something tells me this is gonna be the start of a big change for you, Izzy." Her hands rose to cup my face, and I couldn't stifle my smile.
"You're crazy."
"No, Izzy, I think this is it," she smiled back, laughing through the tears spilling from her eyes. "I think the only way is up for you, from here on out."
"I love you," I said, meaning it as best as I could as I pulled her into a final hug, forcing back any more tears. She squeezed me tightly.
"I love you. Text and call," she told me firmly.
"Everyday," I promised, squeezing her hand as we began to separate.
I followed Ally's instructions, checking in my bag, and heading to pass through security. I knew I would be flying out with other members of the crew for this tour, but I was unsure if Harry was going to be there, too. I figured it was almost better that I didn't know - I wasn't exactly keen on seeing him again, especially not so soon. I knew that wasn't exactly realistic, considering I was leaving the country for his tour, but I didn't care. I still didn't want to face him, or his arrogance - especially not whilst I was still feeling so vulnerable from leaving Grace and Johnny behind.
Security wasn't incredibly tedious, and I made it through with relative ease. I checked my phone to see that Ally had texted me, making me aware that her and the others - whoever they may be - were through, and awaiting my arrival. I was perfectly on schedule, but the fact they were all through and waiting for me made me feel incredibly nervous.
My eyes landed on the coffee shop she'd named as a meeting point, and I caught a flash of red hair, confirming that she was, indeed, there waiting for me. As I approached, she spun around, instantly easing many of my nerves with a bright, warm smile.
"Isabella! I was afraid you were having second thoughts," she laughed, pulling me into a hug which I gladly returned.
"Not at all," I lied with a bright smile of my own, as if I hadn't been questioning my decisions pretty relentlessly.
It was then that she took a step back, turning to a small crowd of four people behind her - two men, and two women. "Here, let me introduce you to the band," she said, brightly. "Isabella, meet Mitch, Sarah, Elin, and Pauli," she gestured to the correct individual of the group as she named them, each of them sending me either a small smile or a wave. "Guys, meet Isabella."
"It's lovely to meet you all," I said, earnestly, trying to appear far less nervous than I was. I was surprised when Elin then stepped forward to give me a hug, introducing herself personally. She immediately seemed very sweet, and Sarah then stepped forward to follow suit. I felt instantly accepted by the pair of girls, which aided in easing much of my nerves. I noticed Mitch appeared to stand rather stiffly in the group, his shoulders only falling from their tense position when Sarah's hand reached out to land upon his arm. I wondered if they were together.
"How are you feeling?" Pauli asked me, brightly. He also immediately appeared very friendly, his smile reassuring me. "Nervous? Ally said this was your first tour."
"Yeah, it is," I nodded, before admitting, "pretty nervous, yeah." As I spoke to Pauli, and we broke into friendly, casual conversation, I appreciated the ease in which we seemed to converse. As Elin, Mitch and Sarah would join in, they all appeared incredibly friendly and willing to chat. I wasn't sure why, but I'd gone in imagining they would all immediately despise me, and ice me out as best as they could - perhaps I'd figured they may take a page out of Harry's book, and try and avoid my existence at all costs, but they were proving to do quite the opposite.
I wasn't sure what, or who, we were waiting on, but as we stood and chatted, Ally tapping away on her phone, I occasionally caught the eye of a girl seated not too far from our place outside the coffee shop. Her eyes were narrowed, and she would turn away whenever I caught her eye - I wasn't sure if she was supposed to be with us, or not, or if, perhaps, she was a fan who had recognised the members of Harry's band and was debating whether to come over and introduce herself. I tried not to pay her too much mind, but I could feel her stare shooting daggers at me as I spoke to the others, causing my already present paranoia to grow.
"Harry's here - he shouldn't be long now. He's got the security with him, so he should be able to come straight through without much hassle," Ally said, suddenly, and my stomach lurched at the idea I'd be seeing him again in just a matter of moments. The last he'd spoken to me was telling me not to sign the contract - perhaps he thought he may have convinced me, and that I wouldn't be standing here, prepared to board the very same plane as him. I bit my lip, seeking to mask any of my growing anxiety, but I could feel Mitch's eyes on me as I did so. I caught his eye, and he sent me the tiniest, barely noticeable, sort-of smile at the mention of Harry's arrival. Did he know what had gone down between Harry and I? Surely not. It was just my paranoia, again.
After a few more minutes of conversation; getting to know each other and casual talking, I was starting to feel so much more at ease, despite Harry's pending arrival. This was one less thing to worry about, now - I had met the people I would be predominantly spending the next two months with, and they were very friendly and welcoming, which was a huge relief.
"Ah, there he is," Ally said, looking up from her phone with a smile, and cutting through our conversation. I dared to look up, now, my eyes finally landing on him. Accompanied by multiple security guards, Harry stood in a pair of yellow-tinted sunglasses, a white graphic t-shirt that seemed to hug the flex of his arms so perfectly, with his legs clad in a pair of black baggy trousers, white vans upon his feet, and an obnoxiously large tote bag pulled over his shoulders - and he looked incredible. Of course.
The first thing I noticed was how Mitch was the first person he greeted, not hesitating pulling him into a hug, the pair of them laughing at something I hadn't heard. I figured they must have been the closest, as he greeted the other band members with equal happiness, but slightly more distance. I could tell, however, that they were all very good friends. Harry only sent me a small nod, his face lacking expression, before he moved past me to speak to Ally. He'd barely even looked at me.
As I turned back to the group, nobody really seemed to have noticed, the conversation continuing - only Elin, who caught me with the raise of her eyebrow. I met her eye briefly, and she nodded, sending me a reassuring smile as she seemed to understand that this wasn't the best time, nor the place to question me. It annoyed me that he had to make it so blatantly obvious that he didn't like me, and that he didn't want to be seen with me. He'd asked me for discretion, but lacked it entirely himself.
It was then, that the girl who had been watching me, rather incessantly, since my arrival, stood up and headed over to us. I watched Sarah roll her eyes, as she cut straight through the group of us to reach Harry, and I frowned. Did they all know her? Was she with us, after all?
I watched as Harry turned to face her, and for the first time, I saw this girl smile - a bright, sickeningly sweet smile, as her arms were thrown around Harry's neck, and she leant in to plant a firm kiss on his cheek. I couldn't stop my eyes from widening as I watched him draw back from her with a small laugh, their brief conversation unintelligible from where I was standing, as he created a little more distance between the two of them, but accepted her arms winding around one of his, all the same.
Oh. So that was why he'd wanted me to keep quiet.
-
a/n:
Hello!
omg this is my first author's note on this book! Hello! I hope all of you are doing good :')
just dropping in to say that I'm so grateful for all of the support I've received on this book so far. all of you have been so lovely and receptive to this book, and i appreciate it so so much.
I was so nervous about coming back to Wattpad with a book for the first time in over two years, but you have all been so warm, and welcoming, and so encouraging, and i can't tell you how much it means to me. I'm so excited to continue working on this book. I'm also really enjoying reading all of your feedback and your amazing comments, so thank you so, so much for all of that :')
On this book, I'm testing out writing much longer chapters, whilst trying to keep my updates frequent. if you've read my other books, I usually capped each chapter at around 2000 words, whilst in this one, we're reaching anywhere between 4.5k and 6k. Let me know what you guys think of that - whether the chapters are too long, too short, etc. Whatever you think, I'm interested to hear! This will most likely be it for a few days, now, as I'm pretty packed with work over the coming days, but I'll try to get the next chapter finished and posted at any chance I get.
Thank you all so much for reading!! we're already past 1k reads on this book, which is incredible, and I appreciate it so, so much. I really hope you're enjoying reading as much as I'm enjoying writing it <3
All my love xxxx