A Dreamers Dream

Food at last. Still in Birmingham, England

A liveried waiter pushes a large silver cart into the centre of the room which is covered in lots of silver cloches of varying sizes. As soon as the smell hits my nostrils, a loud gurgle escapes my stomach. Harry returns a few moments later. Having seen the waiter back out, and makes his way over to a large glass dining table at the far end of the room, pushing the little trolley in front of him. Suddenly I realise that this man is my boss, I shouldn't be sat on my arse whilst he sorts out my breakfast. I jump up quickly and make my way over to his side.

"Have a seat?" Harry says as I go to lift one of the many dishes from the trolley and he, yet again, waves me away. So I sit down and fold my arms, trying to resist the temptation to offer to help anymore.
"I wasn't sure what you like, or what you'd be in the mood for. So I pretty much ordered a bit of everything" He says and starts removing the covers from the various dishes. Placing two pre-warmed circular white plates onto the table and handing me a large, steaming mug of black coffee.
"Thank you, you really didn't have to go to any trouble though. I'll pretty much eat anything. Especially when it's free" I joke as I take a sip of the coffee. The hot liquid burns as it hits my tongue, but I don't care, I'm desperate for the caffeine.

As Harry takes the seat opposite me and starts helping himself to a variety of fruits and what appears to be muesli of some kind, I dive straight at a plate of bacon and eggs and start wolfing it down at top speed. So engrossed in my food that it takes me a few moments before I realise Harry is staring at me, open-mouthed.
"What?" I say, swallowing a too large mouthful of scrambled eggs and nearly choking myself. I glug down a glass of nearby juice to try and prevent a coughing fit and help it go down.
"Nothing. It's just... most of the women I spend time with don't tend to have such healthy appetites. Makes a nice change," Harry says, looking at me with concern as I try to cough subtly.
"That is not a problem I suffer from Mr Styles," I say with a smile if he's going to insist on calling me 'Trouble' then I shall stick with calling him Mr Styles I decide. Quite pleased with myself at this idea, I let out a small laugh and Harry shoots me another confused look.

"So, er, are you ever going to tell me what you thought of the show? Or are you purposefully trying to drag it out and make me as anxious as possible?" Harry asks after a few moments of silence. When I glance up, I notice small creases have appeared between his eyebrows, is he really concerned about my opinion?
"I.. well... this is a bit awkward" I start, placing my knife and fork down carefully and maintaining a stern poker face. "You are my boss, after all..."
"I knew it. It's ok, I can take it. Hit me. And be honest" Harry says, looking determined to hear whatever the worst may be that I can throw at him.
I try, I really really do, to keep a straight face for as long as is humanly possible. But I swear a trained spy who's used to interrogations would struggle not to crack under the intensity of those green eyes, especially now that there is a hint of trepidation in them. I feel my face break into a broad smile as I finally put the poor lad out of his misery.

"I can't believe you even have to ask! It was amazing! Honestly. I've been to a lot of shows, an awful lot. In fact, the last band I saw at that arena were The Eagles, so you had a lot to live up to. But honestly, it's like you were born to be up on that stage. I've rarely seen anyone so at ease with themselves and the crowd. And I swear to god you had them eating out of the palm of your hand. Ya know, the girls next to me were live-streaming the event on the internet and they had over two thousand people watching their fuzzy little video. I'm lucky if I can get the attention of twenty people when they're sat in the same bloody room when I perform,"
As I speak, I can visibly see Harry relax. He leans back in his chair, his shoulders lower and his chest expands as he takes in a long breath. The apprehension in his eyes disappears as fast as it arrived and a small smirk starts to creep across his lips until a full smile breaks through, and a dimple pops in his cheek.