The Entertainer: A Harry Styles Mini Fic

Track 09 - Make Some Beautiful Music

Songs mentioned in this chapter:
Dobie Gray - Drift Away
Led Zeppelin - Going To California

Badfinger - No Matter What
Roberta Flack - Killing Me Softly With His Song

"So...Harry..." I began as we ate breakfast in the hotel restaurant, "if I'm allowed to ask...what ever happened with Pippa?"

"Um..." Harry swallowed, "she went back to London."

"Well, I kinda figured as much. But how did she take it? Simon's death, I mean."

Holding his fork in his hand, Harry stared out at nothing for a moment. Then with a shrug, he lifted his glass of water and took a sip.

"She flew back home first. Simon's body was sent home of course, and the rest of us followed. I called her to let her know the arrangements for the funeral, but she didn't show. I reckon she might've needed some time alone to grieve, but I was so messed up in my own head that I didn't pay much attention to anyone or anything else."

"Understandable."

Harry bowed his head then, dropping his fork on his plate.

"That's a lie," he mumbled. "I was ashamed. But I was also angry."

"At who? Pippa?"

"She didn't even come to his funeral, Sky! First she'd told me she had feelings for me, then she bolted across the ocean as soon as she got word he'd died. Then she cried to me on the phone about how much she missed him, but then she didn't even come to pay her respects and say goodbye. Who the fuck does that?"

"Maybe she was ashamed too."

Harry was quiet for a minute as he stared at his uneaten food.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have brought it up again. I was just curious."

"She came to see me," Harry spoke softly. "I'd been thinking of coming back to L.A., but Lee and Deacon weren't on board just yet. They didn't even know if they wanted to keep going with the band or not. But I needed to get out of London."

I sat quietly, fingering my cloth napkin, waiting patiently for Harry to continue.

"I had my bags packed. I was leaving the next morning. I'm not sure how she knew, but she did. I suspect she had talked to Deacon or Lee, or word got out somehow. She said she just wanted to say goodbye."

"Hmm. Like she didn't say to Simon?" I quickly covered my mouth with my hand. "I'm sorry."

"No," Harry shook his head, "that's exactly what I said. I practically yelled at her. I couldn't believe she had some nerve."

"And what did she say?"

"She said...she said she regretted it. Not going to Simon's funeral. But that she realized she didn't regret telling me how she felt about me. And that I was talented and I should go live out my dream."

"Well, that last part's true."

Taking a deep breath, Harry let it out slowly, his shoulders falling.

"I guess I didn't know how much this had built up inside me until now. I've been so bitter, so angry, for so long."

"Just at Pippa though?" I inquired.

"No," he shook his head. "I think the only reason I was mad at her was that it was bad timing. And I knew how Simon felt about her. But you're right, it wasn't just her who was ashamed."

"Like I said, Harry, it wasn't your fault. I know you can't just let it go all of a sudden. It takes time to heal." I reached across the table and took his hand. "But I'm here whenever you need someone to talk to."