Wings To Break Your Fall

Chapter 1

Traces of glitter from last night still linger on his face. It has migrated from his eyes to his cheeks and all the scrubbing in the world won't remove it.

Harry knows, because that's what he's been doing for the last five minutes and now he'll have to go back outside and join the wedding celebrations with a scrubbed-red face. He sighs and smoothes down his suit. He hasn't worn one this boring in ages, hasn't got much time for suits altogether lately.

But his mum had insisted and she's one of the few people he would actually change his outfit for on request. He'd put his foot down about the tie and unbuttoned the white linen shirt's top three buttons.

And still it feels like it's constricting his airflow.

"Get it together," he tells his reflection in the bathroom mirror. There's a stubborn strand of hair that keeps falling out of his bun and he's given up on it, told it to do whatever it wanted because he'd stopped caring. That hadn't helped, but it did make him feel better.

A guy comes in and Harry checks him out almost as an afterthought. He's kind of tiny, which catches his attention first, the twinkle in his eye and slight smirk hold it. He's pretty and twinky and those blue eyes would go over a treat with the club's customers.

"Hey," he says. "I'm Harry." It's a split-second decision to talk to him, even if his intentions are a bit... unconventional. But his life is finally back on track, his mum invited to this high-profile event and even Gemma is finally doing better. All he needs is for the club to run smoothly, and then maybe, maybe he can catch a breath.

Being chatted up in the loo only throws the pretty guy for a second before he recovers and smiles winningly. "I'm, uhm, Jason."

Harry leans back against the sink and gives him a slow once-over. Jason doesn't seem to mind, just flicks his blond hair out of his face and stares right back. Harry tries to tamp down on his excitement. "Good to meet you. Wanna dance once you're done here?"

"I have to warn you," Jason says and yes, he's flirting, sauntering towards him and selling it, which Harry feels isn't easy in this setting. "I've been taking some form of dancing lessons all my life."

Harry smiles wider because yes, that's exactly what he wants to hear. "I'll look for you on the dancefloor, then," he tells him with a wink before heading back outside.

The wedding party is quite large so it takes him a moment to find his mum. "You still look lovely," he tells her, nodding down at her light blue dress.

He knows it's not the one she'd actually wanted to buy, a cheaper knock-off version she's had altered. They aren't really struggling, not since the club has really taken off, but there's a difference between having enough money to get by comfortably and living off a trust fund with enough return on interest to keep you satisfied. At the rate he's going he might be able to offer that second option to his kids, one day, but it's certainly never been a reality for him.

"Thank you darling, you look dashing yourself."

He gives her a kiss on the cheek and squeezes her hand because she's doing just fine, really does look lovely, expensive dress or not. In fact, she fits right in. The decor has a lovely white and purple colour scheme, with artfully draped fabric streamers lending the high ceilings a more cozy atmosphere, the fairy lights lining the gauzy material making it downright magical.

They'd made quite the splash on the social scene when almost the entire clan had relocated to London recently. According to his sister, the who's who of London had been frantic about it for weeks. It's not every day that one of the wealthiest families in Britain decides to change their home base like this.