Pretty Please Don't Pinch Me

60. The Brits

My phone vibrates in my clutch purse as I climb up the steps, and I stop and smile as I read the message from Harry.

"You look beautiful."

I look back down below and spot him in a group interview, trying to meet my gaze. He blows a subtle kiss in my direction and I can't keep the smile that is now permanently plastered on my face.

"I know."

I hit send and watch his reaction turn from cool, sexy Harry, to a laughing, less composed Harry in a matter of seconds.

"You coming?" El asks, waiting for me at the top of the stairs. We continue until we get to the entrance and I remember I don't have a ticket or anything like that. We approach the security and they allow us through wordlessly, and we are taken to our table, which unsurprisingly is quite close to the stage. There is a name place for me, and I notice I am sitting beside Harry and Liam, which I am very happy about.

Perfect.

El and I chat about our surroundings and she kindly explains a few things, and how they work to get me better acquainted. Eleanor receives a phone call from someone and I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I get lost along the way, and somehow find my way back to the table. When I return the boys are seated, and when I sit down, I notice that Sophia is sitting where Liam was originally planned to sit. I check the name card.

Sophia.

I clearly recall that Liam and I were seated together. Either Sophia has switched places because she doesn't want me seated next to him, or Liam would prefer not to sit next to me. If it is the former, than Sophia completely has the wrong idea and I'm almost annoyed, as nothing has happened for her even to suspect something being there.

The people begin to fill up the arena, and the lights dim indicating that the Awards show will begin shortly. Harry is telling me a funny story about the last Brits when I see someone crouching down, half running half walking towards us, and puts his finger up to his mouth to say "Sh."

He looks harmless, and I let him play out the scene and he playfully shakes Harry's shoulders, causing him to jump from being caught off guard.

"Nick," Harry exclaims, getting up, and hugging this 20 something looking lad. Dressed smartly in a tux with probably the coolest hair I've ever seen, he seems very likable.

"Nick, this is my girlfriend Ava," he says, and I stand up to hug him.

"Well hello there – you're his new lady I see," he chuckles, and kisses me on both cheeks. I decide I like this gent with the cool Northern accent, and East London attitude and sense of style.

"Thought I'd pop in and say a quick hello before the show," he explains. "And I'd wish you luck for the Global Success Award too while I'm at it," he says winking and nudging Harry with his elbow in a sarcastic, light hearted manner.

"Very funny," Harry replies, shaking his head.

"Your hair is looking quite flat here Harold," he comments, patting his hair, "this a new trend you trying out?"

"Very nice, go on then," Harry replies, "I thought you had enough volume in yours to account for the rest of us, so I thought I might keep it low key," Harry wittily replies.

"Alright, enough snark for tonight then," he says. Music begins playing, and he looks over to across the other side of the room where someone is trying to get his attention. "Best be off – I'll see the two of you later on then shall I?" he says before running off to his table, not really giving either of us time to respond.