FLICKER (h.s. au)

20.

Twenty

Harry Styles

"Great speech, Harry," Brad patted my back once I got off stage. "You're a natural."

I rolled my eyes. "You know damn well I get a wave of anxiety when it comes to these kinds of things." I took a deep breath, shaking my hands a bit before patting them dry on my pants, ridding them of the sweat that had formed. Years in the industry, and I don't think I'll ever rid myself of the anxiety of it all.

"Either way, you did a fine job. Come on, there are some people that want to meet you." He ushered me down the stage stairs. I looked around the room for Emery.

"Can it wait? I really want to find-" My eyes scan the area around me.

"No, man, they're interested in selling to you," Brad explained, guiding me through the crowd.

"Okay? Can't it wait till Monday? Look, man-"

Brad interrupted, "Harry, you know how it is. Opportunities don't always wait for Mondays. These guys are serious, and they're impressed by what you're doing with the company. A quick meet-and-greet, and then you can get back to whatever it is you're looking for."

I sighed, realizing that dealing with potential business partners took precedence, even on a night like this. As we navigated through the crowd, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, I kept an eye out for Emery.

After what felt like an eternity of business talk and handshakes, I managed to excuse myself from the group. "Thanks for your time, Harry," one of the potential partners said as they departed. "We'll talk more this week, glad to be doing business with you."

I glanced around the area once more for any signs of Emery. I glance at the table and find the seat she was occupying now vacant. The room is fairly dim now, the only lights coming from the stage and the reflection on the disco ball. It would be impossible trying to find her like this.

I walk towards the bar, in dire need of a drink after getting on that stage. I'm not one for social events and the only thing that has gotten me through things like this is alcohol.

The bartender, a middle-aged man with a thick mustache, greets me with a nod as I approach. I order a whiskey, needing something strong to steady my nerves. The liquid amber is poured into a crystal glass, and I take a sip, relishing the warmth as it travels down my throat. I wonder how many of these I'll get through by the end of the night.

"Rough night, Styles?"

I turn to see Alec, leaning against the bar with a smirk on his face. "You could say that," I reply, taking another sip of my drink.

He chuckles. "Well, you nailed the speech. Everyone loved it, quite touching. But where's the famous Harry Styles charm tonight? Usually, you're the life of the party."

I shoot him a half-smile. "Not in the mood, Alec."

He eyes me for a moment before nodding knowingly. "Ah, personal matters. I get it. Does it have anything to do with the certain someone you gave a shoutout to in your speech?" Alec's eyebrow arches in question.

"You have no idea," I murmur, taking another sip.

"Need someone to talk to about it?" he offers. I'm tempted to say yes. But now is neither the time or place to have that conversation.

"Maybe another day." I give him a nod, Alec nods his head in understanding as we stare at the dance floor that was now filling up.

"Looks like your special someone's coming this way..." He nudges me, nodding his head towards the direction of Emery making her way over to us. I stand up a little straight and clear my throat, wanting to look put together. Alec looks up at me and chuckles. "Oh man, she's got you whipped." He shakes his head. "Best of luck," He gives me a nod down before walking back towards the table.