From The Dining Table [H.S]

Don't You Call Me Baby

Harry's POV:

Date: Wednesday 11th April
Days until album releases: 32 Days

I was coming to the end of my third day in the studio. Today, we finished early. Well, I say early... 9:13pm isn't exactly an early finish. But, compare it to the time's we've stayed up until the last two days, it was early.

We'd been recording percussion today, which was very simple. There's not a lot of it compared to all the other instruments, and it's fairy straight forward. Having Sarah and Mitch here early really made things go a lot faster too. We were able to use different studios at the same time, so we got through work twice as fast. I trust them both to record things properly; they've always been good friends of mine.

As soon as we finished the last tambourine recording, the team was ecstatic to get an early night. I've never seen them move so fast - practically fighting to get out the door. Mitch, Sarah and I on the other hand, had other ideas.

"Let's go out." Sarah says enthusiastically, sitting opposite us both in Jeffrey's chair. Mitch and I looked at eachother with a similar expression, as if to say what-the-fuck-is-she-on-about-she-can't-be-serious.

"Go where?" Mitch asks, his voice quiet and monotone as always.

"I don't know, somewhere fun. Get a few drinks, some food. Just let loose for a few hours." Sarah reasons, and the idea actually sounds appealing.

"Well... I do know a really nice bar down the road. Quiet, sophisticated. Somewhere we can relax, but not get recognised by anyone." I reason.

"I don't want to be too late though. This jet lag is a bitch as it is, I don't need a hangover on top of it." Mitch adds in.

And with that, we all gathered our belongings, and headed out the studio. As the crisp, evening air nipped at our skin, I noticed Sarah slink her arm around Mitch's. I couldn't help but feel lonely, with my hands thrown in my pockets. I've always wished I had the ability to walk down the road, holding hands with my girlfriend, laughing and totally care free. But, fame comes with consequences.

Don't get me wrong - I'm more than appreciative of the life I've been gifted with. It just sucks that I can't have those small moments with someone, without the paparazzi catching us, and making up all sorts of ridiculous stories.

Turning a corner, we entered a street lit warmly with the array of bar and restaurant lights flooding into the path. As I looked through the windows, I saw an array of families, couples and individuals enjoying their evening. Turning to face Mitch and Sarah, I noticed they were no longer linked by arms, yet Mitch's arm was wrapped possessively around her waist. God I wish Primrose was here.

"We're here." I stop walking, and gaze up at the dark red LED lights, that proudly read Royal Flush. Pushing open the heavy door, a dimly lit room filled with booth tables and low hanging lights sat in front of me. Walking over the rough, wooden floor we found an unoccupied table. Sliding across the black leather chair, I pulled out a menu and scanned the vast variety of drinks available.

"Why's it called Royal Flush?" Sarah asked, also picking up a menu to share with Mitch.

"People come here to play cards. It used to be popular for poker, hence royal flush. But now, they just supply every table with a deck of cards. Gambling isn't allowed, but I've still played some amazing games of Cheat, and Shithead here." I explain, placing my menu down.

"Not too good at cards." Mitch mumbles from behind the menu.

"Yeah, because you forget which game we are playing and accuse everyone of cheating." Sarah laughs, and Mitch just sends her evils.
"Let's take a photo!" Sarah bursts out.