Clandestine {Harry Styles Fanfiction}

Part 13

Hi bbys <3

It's the most wonderful time of the yeeaar. Not Christmas--Finals!

lol no

It's been such a long time, (a month???) since a updated and I know y'all probably hate me for taking such a long time with this chapter, but I was on vacation and this chapter was really difficult to write so I hope you'll forgive me. :))

Okay, I'll shut up now and let you read the chapter.

I hope you like it...

3 Weeks Later

Harry

"Just coffee-black."

The barista scurried away, smoothing down her rumpled apron. I felt bad for her; she'd obviously been working since early this morning. The purple circles under her eyes said it all.

Then again, so had I. I'd been up since five, and my head was pounding from the four meetings I had already been to today. I needed the coffee to keep me going.

I used to hate coffee. I would drown out the taste with as much milk and sugar a mug would hold. But lately, I'd found I liked plain black coffee. The bitter taste was calming.

The barista handed me the cup containing my coffee and I hastily thanked her, weaving through people to get back to my band mates. We'd originally thought that after four meetings and a press conference that we would be able to go home. After all, we had less than two weeks until the tour, and it was snowing cows outside. But our management team had sprung it on us that we were going ""back-up dancer shopping"" which actually just meant that we would spend about four hours watching dancer after dancer audition. They all danced the same to me, which is why I wished Alexander, head of our public management team, would just choose one already. Admittedly, my experience with dance ended at the ballroom dance lessons my mother signed me up for in my first year of secondary school, which I'd hated. Alexander had given up asking me for my opinion, because it usually came with a lot of 'ums' and 'I don't knows'. Alexander had already chosen four dancers, back in November, but for some reason he couldn't find the fifth one. She had to be a 'perfect fit'. Someone old enough to handle the pressures of a world tour, but fresh faced, all rolled into one sparkly, long-legged package.

As I slid into my seat next to Zayn, I couldn't help but feel the apprehension radiating off of Alexander. He was sure 'today would be the day.' Of course, he'd said that the last time we'd gone ""back-up dancer shopping"" and the time before that. If we didn't find our fifth back up dancer today, we would be entering our world tour with only four back up dancers. To Alexander, this was the destruction of civilization.

Today was what was called a 'closed audition,' which meant only the dancers that worked for this particular company would audition. We had done this a couple times before. We visited a studio, all of the dancers interested in the job would audition, and we'd leave empty-handed.

As the first dancer began her audition, Brenna, Alexander's assistant, tapped away on her laptop, taking copious notes on each dancer. Brenna was a loud typer. She was also a loud gum-chewer, and she had an irritating habit of taking little gasps every time she started a sentence.

Once I'd asked Niall if he'd noticed this, and he'd shaken his head. Lately, I'd been observing things that other people didn't. Trivial details, like the specks of spit that gathered at the corners of our manager's mouth when he yelled, or the hum of the heater at Louis' and my flat. Louis thought I had anxiety because of the upcoming tour, or my impending nineteenth birthday. I couldn't tell him the real reason I felt unnervingly anxious.