V: The Show, Part Two

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July 2018

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July 2018

Harry: I want to cut Anna.

Sitting back in his hair and makeup chair, Harry pressed send and quickly clicked out of his messages. Within seconds his mobile was buzzing in his hand and Jeffrey Azoff was scrolling across the screen.

Harry pressed the phone to his ear. "Yes?"

He could hear Jeff sigh heavily on the other end. "It's thirty minutes until you go on, H. Kacey is literally almost done with her set. Not exactly the best time to be changing things."

He leaned forward, propping his phone between his shoulder and ear, while a patient Ayae, his tour hairdresser, stood back and pulled her brush away from his hair.

"Jeff, I legitimately say in the song that I hope you never hear this. How am I supposed to sing it with her in the audience?"

He could practically hear Jeff rolling his eyes through the phone, and Harry knew deep down inside that he was being ridiculous.

"A few hours ago you wanted her to hear it! Either way, how would she even know it's about her?"

Harry pushed out an exasperated breath. "I don't know! But what if she does? I sing the bridge to one of her favorite songs. She's not daft."

The muffled laugh that filtered through the phone only made the knot in Harry's stomach tighten - he had made his bed writing that song about Franki and he would have to lie in it.

"Then she'll be flattered that you wrote a song for her, Harry! You just need to relax. Go meditate or something."

Now it was Harry who was rolling his eyes as he ran his sweaty palms over the dark blue velvet suit trousers, willing the nerves coursing through his veins away.

"Will you please just go check and see if she's here and text me?"

Jeff assured him he would before ending their phone call. After another heavy breath, Harry dropped his phone in his lap and settled back in the chair.

In the reflection of the lit up vanity directly in front of him, he saw Ayae biting back a smirk. Harry's lips lifted into the tiniest flitting grin when their eyes connected.

"Special lady in the audience tonight?" She teased softly as she picked up her brush and readied her blow drier.

Letting out a breathy laugh, he shifted his weight in his seat. "Hopefully."

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