(Completed.)
Seeing Harry on stage is always an overwhelming experience. He becomes a new person, like he lives just to be in front of thousands people. On stage he is Harry Styles: he runs, dances, says his stupid knock knock jokes and plays with...
This is why I'm standing in Anne's kitchen, waiting while is son dresses up.
He was my only option left when Anne told me she had things to do today after I asked her.
Frankly, I didn't ask him to come with me - I was not ready to be in the same car for nearly three hours with him let alone to spend the day - but he overheard my conversation with his mother and in a blink of an eye decided to come with me. No matter the excuses I tried to come up with, he didn't let it go until I said yes.
Stubbornass.
"Ready," he says appearing in the kitchen.
Looking up from the cup of coffee Anne's offered me, I stop breathing for a second. He is wearing thin black jeans and a black, big jumper with printed on NY in white, but what affects me the most is the smug smile on his face.
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He looks so young.
I gulp down the rest of my drink and get up from the stool saying goodbye to Anne while her son waves at her from the door frame.
After I put my coat on he grabs my hand and exit the house walking fast towards my father's car.
He seems like a kid who ate too many candies, euphoric and bouncing on the place while he waits for me to take the keys out of my purse.
"Do you mind driving? I'll do it on the way back" I ask, handing him the car keys.
He just nods, taking them and climbing on the driver side after opening the car.
I sigh and hop on the front seat next to him, putting the seat belt on.
I decide to get comfortable by taking off my shoes and putting my feet on the dashboard when Harry takes the M6 towards London.
We haven't talked yet, the only sound in the car comes from the radio.
"Isn't this your friend Nick?" I ask clearing my throat when the silence in the vehicle becomes too much to handle.
Even if we spent the afternoon together the other day, I still find it hard to have a normal conversation with him. Being in a small space with him, without a way to escape, makes me tense, and despite his calm appearance, I know he is too.
Harry pays attention to the radio before turning slightly in my direction, eyes still on the road "Yes, it's the breakfast show. You still remember him?"
I look out of the window, nodding "It's hard not to. He is quite the character" I state, remembering the few times I met him during Harry's birthdays or when I went to London to spend some time with him.
Harry chuckles "Yeah, he is"
I nod again and grab my phone from my pocket sending a quick text to Thomas and checking the emails Carter sent me yesterday night
