A Dreamers Dream

Coast to coast. New York & Los Angeles, USA.

Finally dry I wrap the towel around my lower half and make my way into the main living area of my suite in search of the room service menu, food and some painkillers. That's what I need right now. And water, copious amounts of water.

I pop one last piece of melon into my mouth and chew mechanically, forcing myself to swallow the mushy substance despite my churning stomach, before throwing a couple of painkillers down my throat and gulping them down with a tall glass of ice-cold water. Feeling slightly better for having put something a little more substantial in my stomach, I pick up my phone to text Jeff but seeing the time, think better of it. It's only eight-thirty in the damn morning, Jeff can wait. The whole bloody world can wait for now. I'm going back to bed.

When I awake again several hours later, I demolish the last of the leftover fruit from breakfast and decide to make my way down to the hotel gym. Maybe a bit of a work out will take my mind off things for a while, not to mention help me sweat out any remaining alcohol in my system.

After a long and gruelling workout, I finish stretching, grab my TPWK water bottle and drain the last few drops before patting my sweating head with my towel. I head out of the gym just in time to see the lift doors sliding closed, typical, desperate to get back to my room and clean up, I decided to take the stairs instead. I am halfway up when I spot Stuart coming up in the opposite direction.

"Evening Harry didn't expect to see you out and about today." He says warmly, flashing me a smile. I guess he figured I'd be hiding away in my room nursing my hangover, which might not have been the worst idea in the world.

"Hiya Stu, yeah, figured I'd hit the gym for a bit, try and sweat out my hangover," I reply, pausing on a small landing to continue our conversation. I like Stuart, of all my security team, he is the most approachable, sure he's about three times the size of me, and his biceps are the same width as one of my thighs, but underneath that he's a big teddy bear, so I'm always happy to have a chat with him.

"Well yeah that, and I figured you and Maddie would have some things to, erm, talk about," he says using air quotes to emphasise his words and throwing me a wink.

"Maddie? Maddie's here?!" I ask him excitedly. A thrill of pleasure shooting up my spine.

"Erm yeah... You haven't seen her?" He questions, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"No, I haven't! Where is she? When did she arrive?" I blurt out, grabbing hold of one of his arms, I can't believe she's here!

"This morning? I took her up to your floor about, just after seven." He says, looking down pointedly at my hand clenched tightly around his forearm, so I quickly let him go. "Last I saw she was heading down towards your suite. She wanted to surprise you I think, text me last night to get the name of the hotel before she got on a plane."

"Seven? Are you sure? I haven't seen... Shit." My words disappear into nothingness as I realise what I was doing at that time and I stand open-mouthed in silence, watching as Stuart pulls his phone from his pocket and starts to search for something.

"Yep, she messaged at 7:03 telling me she was just pulling up outside. Maybe she ran into someone on her way to you? Got distracted?" Stuart suggests, but I can see from the look in his eyes that he doesn't think that's likely given that was nearly twelve hours ago, she'd have had to have gotten distracted for a bloody long time.

"I've gotta go, thanks, Stu," I say quickly and turn back the way I've just come. Taking the stairs two at a time as I race back towards my suite.

No, no, no. At seven o'clock this morning, I was saying goodbye to Julie... My kind, caring, considerate friend who came to see my show and then joined me at the club. Who insisted on staying with me after she got me back to my room and forced me to drink a large glass of water whilst I cried on her shoulder about how much I wished Maddie were there. The friend who slept in my bed, alone, after I passed out on the sofa in a sweaty, tearful heap and was probably kept up half the night by my snoring. But, if I had have turned up at Maddie's door unannounced and seen her standing in nothing but her underwear, saying goodbye to another man who was clearly still wearing last nights clothes at seven am, I know exactly what I would have thought, and as much as I love her, I of all people know how that she has a tendency to jump to conclusions.

Pushing the door open to my suite I grab my phone and frantically scroll through my contacts for her name before hitting the call button and pressing the phone against my ear, feeling my knuckles turning white from holding it too tightly. Pick up Maddie.. please pick up...

Maddie's perspective.

Standing at the bar, I feel my phone vibrating against my hip and yank it out of my pocket, scowling as I see Harry's name flashing on the screen.

"You gonna answer that?" Dean asks from over my shoulder as he reaches around to grab his drink from the bar.

"Nope." I bite back shortly as I hold the power button down on my phone and watch the screen turn to black.

"I know it doesn't feel like it at the moment, but I think you're making the right choice." He says as he takes a seat on the stool next to me and knocks back the last of his drink. Not knowing quite how to respond, I quickly down the rest of my own cocktail before signalling to the bartender to bring us another round.

When I got back to my hotel in LA this afternoon, I spent a good hour or so pacing back and forth around my small room, going over and over what I saw in New York until I thought I would go crazy from thinking about it. Desperate for a distraction I picked up my laptop and started idly surfing the internet looking for anything to take my mind off of Harry but of course, what I saw there just made things worse. Splashed all over the gossip sections of the news site I was looking at were pictures of him enjoying his wild night out, and in practically every one of those pictures was the blonde-haired beauty from this morning.

Before I could sink into a horrible deep dark rabbit hole that I feared I would never manage to pull myself out of, I decided to call Dean and see if he fancied a drink, not totally appropriate really given our relationship, but given that he's the only person I know here in LA, it's hardly like I had any other options. Thankfully he agreed, which brings us back to the present, he and I sitting on uncomfortable bar stools in an establishment that smells heavily of beer and cheap liquor, me sipping on a cocktail and bopping my head along to some crap pop track playing on the old-style Jukebox in the corner of the room.

I take a large mouthful of my fresh drink before hopping up off my stool.

"I can't take this bubblegum rubbish any more, I'm going to put some real music on. Have you got any change?" I ask him, stumbling slightly, I place a hand on the back of the stool to steady myself. How many cocktails have I had? I wonder, trying to count back as the bar spins slightly and I feel Dean place a few silver coins into my free hand. Four? Five? "Thanks," I mumble and head towards the Jukebox on unsteady legs.

I have to squint a little to be able to read the song titles on the old-style machine, but eventually, I locate a song I like and manage to hit the correct buttons to select it. Instantly the crappy pop music ceases and the sound of Def Leppard's 'Pour some sugar on me' fills the room. I start to sway my hips in time to the 80's rock track, singing away at the top of my lungs and causing a few heads to turn in my direction in the small, crowded bar, but I couldn't care less what anyone thinks about me right now.

"Come dance with me!" I call loudly over to Dean, who is watching me intently from his seat by the bar as I continue to dance, a little voice in the back of my head tries to tell me that this might not be the best idea I've ever had, but I can't seem to find the energy to give a shit right now, so I start to edge my way over to my sort-of-manager, swaying my hips provocatively.

"Plllease." I purr into his ear when I reach his side, pulling his hands from his lap and placing them on my waist as I continue to dance which entices him to finally get up out of his chair and join me. He's taller than me, not as tall as Harry though I don't think... his shoulders are broader, and his shirt is a little tighter around his chest than Harry's usually are. Urgh! Stop thinking about Harry! I scold myself. He's moved on! He doesn't want you any more. You fucking blew it.

Shaking my head I try and rid my mind of thoughts of Harry and shamelessly inch closer to Dean, sliding one of my legs between his as we move our hips in time with one another and reaching my arms up around his neck. Desperately seeking a distraction.

"God Maddie, what are you doing to me?" He asks in a low voice, slurring slightly, his eyes full of lust and without really thinking, with the fuzz of alcohol drifting through my head clouding my judgement and the drumbeat from the song pounding in my ears, I stretch up on my tiptoes and press my lips to his.