Still British

The first Grandstand concert went off without a hitch. Or, at least that’s what I’m told. I had to work that evening, but Harry’s lobbying for me to come to the next one, at the end of the Fair. And maybe another one, depending on my schedule, and where it is. I also happen to know that Harry isn’t speaking to the other boys unless they’re in public, as they have an image to keep up, except maybe Louis, and even then, only sometimes, and barely. I don’t know how much longer either of us could keep this up, him with not speaking to his best friends, and me with the guilt of knowing I’m the reason why. He was, on top of practicing, avoiding the boys, and seeing me, trying to plan our date. A few days in, I told him to just forget about it, I’d plan something, once I noticed he’d been losing sleep. He tried to argue it, but I was firm. Besides, I had a whole lot of spare time on my hands, sitting in the office all day. Halfway through the Fair, I told Harry I’d come to him that day, if he didn’t mind. Or even if he did. I was going to fix his problems today, and give him one less thing to worry about. Or even two, if he’d let me. That day, I walked the fairgrounds that day in some of the little casual clothing I’d brought, and I got to Harry about ten in the morning. I was buzzed in, which was both weird and satisfying at the same time, and I was quick to try and find him. I entered the room I was pointed to, which Harry wasn’t in, and the first thing that hit me was the mess. I mean, he hadn’t been here for very long at all, and the place already was covered in clothing, books, and other papers. I picked up the closest paper, and I saw a madman’s jumble of thoughts, crammed all over the page, and I realized it was a list, his thoughts, and song lyrics, all at once. Wow. I put it back on the ground, where I’d found it, and looked for a good book. I spotted Doctor Zhivago. Perfect. A few minutes later, Harry stomped in, fuming. I was just sitting in a corner with the book, and I didn’t even look up when he entered, knowing it was him from the way he walked in, muttering to himself. He didn’t notice me right away, but eventually he realized I was there. He came over and knelt down in front of me. “Darlin’,” he started, “What’re you doin’ over here, in the corner?” I just held up the book. He laughed, then picked me up and carried me to the bed, where he proceeded to set me down and lie next to me. I made a face. “What’s up, darlin’?” “Well, now I’ll never get to finish that book!” I joked, but I’m not sure he got it. He started to say something, but I interrupted him. “No, no! I was joking! I’ve read that book before!” I said, and he started laughing. “But that book is also very special, in a rather painful way for me. That’s the book I was reading on my birthday.” He looked super confused, so I elaborated. “The day you came back to me.” He looked stricken. “That… That was your birthday?” He stuttered. I just nodded. “Well, now I feel like an arse, for ruining your birthday.” I started to argue, but he just talked over me. “First I made you cry, then I scared you, then I pressured you, then I freaked you out, then I got angry at you, and finally I left you. That sounds like a shitty birthday to me.” I couldn’t argue that. “But not my worst birthday.” He looked at me, about to protest. “My worst birthday was my eleventh birthday, the first one without you in, what, six, seven years? The first one here in America. That was the worst. At least I got to see you this time.” He couldn’t possibly argue that, could he? I wasn’t about to let him try. “Anyway, I came here to take my unofficially official boyfriend on our first date.” I said, and we both laughed. “Am I to assume nowhere public for this first date?” “That depends on what you have in mind…” “Well, it’s a nice day, would you like to go watch a movie?” I asked, getting a laugh from him. “Sounds brilliant. Are you thinking in a theatre or at your house?” I just looked at him. That was the original question. “Sorry, sorry,” He said as he caught on, “You want me to choose, don’t you… Well, there’s nothing especially good in the theatres now, is there? Why don’t we just go to your house?” There we go. A proper answer. “Okay then!” I said cheerily. “Sounds like a plan. When would you like to commence our date?” “Um, maybe we could get some lunch and go to your house for the movie?” Brilliant. Gave me some time. But when should I try to get him talking to his bandmates again? Should I try now, when I’d have to deal with him for the next few hours, or after, leaving him on a possibly sour note? I didn’t really want them interrupting my date, but… Then all four of them came into the room. Well, that makes it easy, doesn’t it?

Notes

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! xoxo ~Stormy