Ours [harry styles] ✓

Encore

The arena was so loud and the boys hadn't even gotten on stage yet. We were glued to our seats in anticipation, our VIP passes hanging both loosely and proudly around our necks as we mingled with the family and friends of the band. Gemma had come along too, looking so comfortable with the atmosphere that I wondered if she came every time they performed in London. I wouldn't have blamed her if she did, it was certainly an experience. Nola stood on my lap, clapping, with a ridiculously large pair of pink earmuffs attached to her head. Harry hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said it was going to be too loud for her. It was almost too loud for me. Elenore was already shaking with excitement, making me feel as though I was a mother of two daughters instead of just one. I should have been shaking with her and shrieking with everybody else, but being a mother had made me old. I felt old. 

"Any minute now, Marn!" She told me, a grin plastered across her face. And she was right. Right on cue the lights dimmed and were replaced by flashes of colour, shooting from the floor of the stage to the ceiling in a dizzying fashion. Lights swirled into the audience and my stomach churned with them. No one had recognised us and that was all that mattered. I just had to take a deep breath and enjoy myself. Elenore suddenly wrenched herself out of her seat so that she was on her feet, clapping and waving her arms around wildly. I was confused until a familiar deep voice rang through the speakers.

"Good evening, London!" Screens either side of the stage came to life and Harry's face, blown up so that it was towering over us, smiled into the audience. High pitched screams rang out all around us and I could hear Gemma laughing from beside me. She made eye contact with me and rolled her eyes, clearly finding the fans' overwhelming reaction amusing.

"Dada!" Nola squealed, although I could barely hear her. She clapped her hands and stamped her feet on the tops of my thighs, desperate for Harry's attention. As if reading her mind he looked up in the direction of where we were sat and smiled briefly before focusing back to the rest of the audience. I felt myself relax into the seat while they began their opening song; Don't Forget Where You Belong. 

I had to give it to the band, they really were very good. They had great stage presence and had their fans wrapped around their little fingers. I admired the way in which they read out the banners that had been slaved over for hours and how they included every section of the arena, not just the fans going crazy on the floor in front of the stage. I even found myself singing along whilst trying to conceal my embarrassment that Elenore had evolved into this wild fangirl, leaning over the barrier in front of our seats and screaming Niall's name repeatedly. I wondered if she'd forgotten that we were actually going backstage to see them all after the show was over. 

About three quarters in, Nola's posture began to slump back into my lap. I rolled her over, not surprised to see her struggling to keep her eyes open. It was technically way past her bedtime and I hadn't really expected her to last this long anyway. There was no way I was letting her sleep right here though, even with the earmuffs on. 

"I'm taking Nola backstage to sleep." I shouted to Elenore and Gemma. They both nodded as I hauled Nola up into my arms and headed for the stairs. One of the stewards had already shown me the way to get backstage for after the show, so I seized the opportunity to use it while it would be quiet.

Once down the stairs, I shielded Nola's face as we darted past some of the fans, before wrenching a set of double doors open and disappearing into a brightly lit corridor. It took my eyes a moment to adjust, going from an indoor firework display to something that vaguely reminded me of a hospital wing. It was also eerily quiet in comparison to the volume it had been when we'd first arrived and were shown to our seats. I looked left and right, trying to gather my bearings before heading in the direction the steward had kindly pointed out to me hours before. The boy's singing became more echo-like as it bounced down the corridor and I wondered if Harry would have noticed that we'd left our seats.