Cherry; Harry Styles

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♪I WANT THE ONE I CAN'T HAVE - THE SMITHS♪

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//WARNING//
READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
MATURE / EXPLICIT THEMES AHEAD.

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Della.

Harry stands tall in front of the group, adjusting the microphone as the instrumental of the song he picked begins. Margo gives him the "stage," also known as the wall with the projector in front of it. I could almost see him squinting from the projector light, which was blinding him.

I started to feel uneasy, anxious about watching him sing again, the last time being the night in Deven's backyard. Now, it's here, and we're not speaking to one another. I knew he would do good and shock the group. I loved his voice, so I knew they would.

He would never hear that from me, though.

The instrumental of the song picks up, filling the basement with its upbeat rhythm. It's very familiar, I know I've heard it somewhere before, and by the looks of it, everyone one else has too.

"On the day that your mentality...." Harry begins, dragging on the last word.

I can tell he's nervous, but he continues to sing the next few verses, gaining more confidence as the group reacted. I sit uncomfortably, realizing what song he was singing. Harry stares directly into the group as his body begins to loosen. He's getting more and more comfortable. I have the urge to get up and leave, but I don't. I needed to stick around in case something interesting happens.

"I want the one I can't have, and it's driving me mad," Harry emphasizes his words as his eyes skim the group. They find mine.

"It's all over, all over my face." His voice deepens as the bridge of the song begins.

His eyes are fixed on me as he sings into the microphone, his face is expressionless, but his eyes are practically screaming at me. His eyes dark and low from the position of his head and the lighting. Yet, they somehow were filled with so much emotion. I could feel them peel away at each layer by layer of my skin. I attempt to avoid his eyes by pretending inanimate objects were more interesting than his performance, but I fail miserably.

The music swelled, the crescendo of tones hit me, causing a cascade of thoughts and memories from earlier on in the day. The melody and lyrics told me almost everything I suspect Harry had meant to, though it could all be coincidental. As the group begins to sing along towards the end of the song, they join Harry and dance alongside him. Some head bumping, and others dancing carelessly.

I can feel Calum become uneasy in his spot; he was undoubtedly jealous and uncomfortable with Harry being here and near me. He eventually throws his arm over my shoulders and plops his head atop mine. I hated this feeling of protection and power he thought he had over me. It made me feel so small and fragile. I needed to distance myself from him soon; he was becoming too attached. What the hell happened to the fuck boys of this generation? I just keep getting with the lovey-dovey ones.

Sure, I liked Calum, but we aren't dating, and we never would. I have explained that to him countless times, but by the way, he's been treating me; lately, I think he has the idea that we are.

"When do you wanna' leave?" Calum speaks, but I can't hear him due to the music.

"What?" I scrunch my face like that'll somehow make me hear better.