TW: anxiety, panic attack
"So…" I try my best to sound nonchalant as I run my fingers through Harry's slightly damp hair. "I've been thinking."
"Yeah?" he hums, fighting to keep his tired eyes open.
I exhale a breath. "About all… this."
"This?" he repeats, now squinting at me in confusion. With his head perched upon my belly, he needs to bend his neck to catch my gaze.
The ensuing silence is eventually broken by my short chuckle. "Yeah, like, y'know…"
All traces of the previous drowsiness disappear from Harry's eyes. When he speaks up again, his tone is a lot more sobering. "I can't always read your mind, love. You gotta give me a hand here."
"Right." My heart starts to thrum wildly in my chest. "I mean, us. I've been thinking about… us. What we're doing. Like, what it means. And stuff."
Note to self: next time when you decide to take Asa's advice, ask for more pointers.
"Riiiiight." Harry smiles, a single dimple popping out. "So, like, just stuff and thangs then?"
"Oh God." Mentally cursing my inability to communicate, I shake my head at myself. "Nevermind."
"Wait a minute…" Harry sits up, now giving me his full attention. "I wasn't mocking you. I want to hear what you have to say, please." His eyes soften. "Talk."
I force myself to smile despite the nerves trashing away in my belly. "Okay, so…" Long pause. "I realise that this should have been said a long time ago, but better late than never, right?" Harry nods solemnly, still staring at me. "Okay, I'm just gonna come out with it—you're the only one that I'm doing. I mean, doing this with. As in, now."
Harry hums, pursing his lips to fight the smile threatening to appear. "I think I know what you're getting at, but could you explain a bit more? Just so, y'know, we're on the same page 'bout all… this."
I draw in a frustrated breath, bracing myself for more embarrassment when it dawns on me that the cheeky bastard is playing me.
"Ugh." With a huff, I snatch his wandering hand off my belly. "Condoms, espèce d'imbécile! Since we're not using them, either keep your dick in your pants and don't sleep with other people, or suit up when you're with me." (French: you moron)
Nice save.
Harry laughs then, a full-on breathy cackle as he pins me to the bed with his entire body weight. We struggle a bit, my face growing red from the extortion until I, too, start giggling like a maniac.
"Sorry, I can't resist teasing you when you're being all awkwardly cute," Harry grins at me. "And honey, I thought it was pretty self-explanatory that you're the only girl I think of. Subtlety isn't my forté."
"Really?" I ask before covering my question with an uneasy cough. "I mean, oh. That's good. So… it's just us then."
"Yeah," he grins a little wider.
"Glad we had that talk."
Harry snorts, his head falling into the crook of my neck before he says, "Darling, you're a real handful. Think I'd even find the time or energy to deal with anyone else but you?"
"Wow, how romantic of you. I'm swooning," I pretend to fan myself with a roll of my eyes.
"Didn't know you wanted me to be romantic," he coos, a pleased smile sliding onto his face when his teasing makes me blush. "I'm dying to be soft with you, so just say the word–"
We both flinch when something heavy slams into a wall in the adjacent bedroom, and it seems like the entire room shakes along with it.
"Oh dear, again?" I let out a very unladylike whine.
Not for the first time, I curse Harry's soft heart that led to Asa crashing at our rented apartment. He could have easily gotten his own for our month-long stay in Tokyo, but according to H, bonding time with friends is important.
Too bad most of our bonding time equals listening to Asa having sex.
Unaware of my growing annoyance, Harry bops his head to the low, rhythmic thumping behind the wall. "You hear that? It sounds like…" he raises a single finger up before starting to lowly croon some old disco song. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin' alive, stayin' alive–"
I crack a smile at his antics. "Well, I really do hope he'll still be alive after this. Sounds rough."
The noise intensifies, and even the thick wall isn't enough to muffle a loud, feminine "Fuck me!" coming from the other room.
"I've been wondering," Harry muses out loud. "Why does she keep asking him to fuck her? He's clearly already doing it."
"Maybe he's not doing it well enough?" I suggest with a grin.
"Are we hearing the same sounds right now, darling?" Harry laughs. "S'like he's fuckin' her into a different universe or somethin'. Asa should start a class: How to make a woman wail like a banshee. I'd sign up."
I shake my head with a chuckle. H's bedroom skills definitely don't need any improvement.
As if reading my mind, he cheekily adds, "Now that I think about it, judging by how loud you were screaming last night, I don't need any classes."
"Oh my gosh, H, you know what you truly need?" I ask in a fake, excited tone. "A manual on how to stop being an annoyance to everyone around you."
Harry pouts playfully, pretending to pull an imaginary arrow out of his heart. "You wound me."
"Shh," I hush him with a finger pressed to his lips. "Wait for it...." I trail off as the moans gradually grow louder. "Aaaand here it comes."
Our laughter gets drowned out by the wild screams on the other side, most of them courtesy of Asa's catch of the night although his voice is also present among the ruckus.
The silence that follows feels blissful.
"Well, safe to say I'm not having sex after that. I'm dry as the Sahara down there." Shame. H looks quite appetising in the mornings. And every other time of the day, really. "Coffee?"
"Sounds perfect," Harry murmurs. Leaning down, he leaves a soft kiss on my lips before pushing off the bed to throw some clothes on.
Now both fully dressed, we make our way to the kitchen where I start up the coffee machine while Harry absentmindedly scrolls through the notifications on his phone. All of a sudden, he groans.
"What's up?" I ask.
"Karaoke night. I completely forgot we promised to be there tonight," he explains.
"You mean you promised," I correct his false assumption that we're supposed to be tied to the hip, always. "As far as I remember, we are still two separate human beings."
"C'mon, love," he mutters in that low, gravelly tone of his. "They all expect you to be there. You're everyone's favourite!"
"They don't need me. They'll have Mr Rockstar, and you're the singer of the group anyway."
"Fine," Harry pouts stubbornly. "I'm not going without you, so I guess we'll both be staying in tonight."
This forces a frown onto my face. "Harry, you can't just pull emotional blackmail on me–"
Whatever I'm about to say is stopped by Asa's bedroom door flying open, a pretty, flushed brunette stumbling out into the living area. Much to my relief, she's at least fully dressed… unlike the last time we'd bumped into each other. "Oh. Hi."
"Konnichiwa, Megumi," Harry greets her easily, as if we hadn't heard her chant Asa's name like a prayer less than fifteen minutes ago. (Japanese: Hello)
"Coffee?" I ask politely, lifting the mug to my lips.
"No, thanks." Her fame aflame, she's clearly embarrassed for having been caught. "I have to–"
We both hold in our snickers as we watch her hurriedly vacate the apartment. Once she's gone, I turn to face Harry again. "As I was saying, you can't just guilt me into joining you."
"M'not," he mutters, taking a sip of the hot drink I hand him. "Merely telling you that I won't be going anywhere without you."
"Harry," I hiss his name in a warning.
"Darling," he repeats in the same tone.
"You know I'll feel bad if you ditch your friends because of me!" I whine. "You're impossible."
I wish I could say that my resolve prevails this time. That despite Harry's charming and flirtatious ways, I remain tough for once. But, as soon as he grabs my hand and tugs me onto his lap, I'm once again reduced to a giggling puddle of mush.
"I'll sing for you," he coos like a devil trying to lure a next victim into his den.
Looping my arms around his neck, I tilt my head to the side with a thoughtful frown. "Hm… That depends what," I tease.
H purses his lips, seemingly considering his options before crying out, "Lady in reeeeeed…!"
"No!" I lightly smack his head with the back of my hand, laughing.
"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog…" He leans in to capture my lips with a low growl that I've come to recognise as a telltale sign of his desire.
In that exact moment, Asa decides to stroll into the kitchen. "Morning, guys. What are we singing?"
Reluctantly, I break our kiss and snuggle deeper into Harry's chest. "H is trying to convince me to go to a karaoke bar with his friends tonight."
"Karaoke, fuck yes!" Asa bellows, clapping his hands enthusiastically. "It's been a while since we've done that… A&A, the self-proclaimed karaoke masters back together."
"Masters, you say?" Harry repeats, glancing down at me with a smile. "Can't believe you were trying to deprive me of seeing you two in action."
I sigh in defeat. With Asa and H ganging up against me—the only two men holding this sort of power over me—I stand virtually no chance.
"Okay fine… you won," I amend, "but I'm only singing once, and that's a promise."
H smiles brightly in response, his arms tightening around me as he showers my cheeks with wet, sloppy kisses. For a moment, I forget we're not alone in the room. The laughter bubbles up in my throat and I feel weightless in his hold—content. This has been my new reality for the last two weeks. No more fighting. No more resisting. Just… rolling with it. All I can do now is ride this wave, hoping I won't end up drowning.
"Well, aren't you two looking chummy today," Asa comments with a growing smirk on his lips. "A real close pair of best pals."
I huff at his sarcastic tone. "You are in no place to lecture us after what we had to endure this morning."
"Shit," he mutters with an embarrassed groan, "You heard?"
"It was hard not to, mate," H chuckles. "What the hell were you doing to that girl? Felt like the wall was 'bout to collapse."
At that, Asa's face flushes deep red. "Well, I shouldn't say. Y'know, it's private." He pauses for a moment, hesitating before he leans closer to Harry. "Just between you and me though, she loves that thing when you bend–"
"Nope," I butt in, "You two are not discussing that business, at least not with me present. And Asa… Next time, please ask her to keep it down, alright? We were trying to have a peaceful morning." And hopefully, some fun times of our own.
"I'm sorry," he whines. "I just don't know how to make them stop coming!"
"You don't...what?" I sputter, bracing myself against the counter because Harry looks like he's about to fall off his chair with how hard he's laughing.
"Sorry, I mean over. Coming over," he explains, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish smile. "Apparently, she and Hikari decided I'm their brand new toy to share."
"First of all, you could easily tell them to stop showing up if you really wanted to. It's not that hard to break things off with someone." I roll my eyes. Men.
"Actually…" Harry chimes in. "It can get complicated sometimes."
I look at him with a raised eyebrow. "No, H, it's quite simple. He just wants to get his dick wet."
"Not everything revolves around sex," Harry argues quietly. "Sometimes it can be about lingering feelings or multitude of other things–"
"He's known them for two weeks, H," I cut him off. "There are no feelings involved. It's about sex."
Harry frowns, averting his gaze to the cup in his hands.
"Yeah, you're right," Asa admits with a sigh. "I mean, I'm not gonna lie and say that I'm not having a great time, but…"
"Well, Asa, they both like you," I put it as simply as I can, "so grow a pair and either choose one, or stop sleeping with them both."
Asa snorts then, but the sound dies in his throat when he spots my dead-serious expression. "They don't actually like-like me...right? And since when have you become a relationship expert?"
"Since I caught them arguing over you in front of our apartment building." Asa's face pales at my words. "Yeah, they're both hoping you'll eventually date one of them. They think it's some sort of a competition to win your bloody heart. Even asked me for help."
"But… I'm going back to London soon," he murmurs, more to himself than us. "I thought they were aware that this was just temporary."
I open my mouth to lecture him further when surprisingly, Harry beats me to it. "You have to tell them they have no shot with you, Asa. The longer you wait, the harder it will be to dig yourself out of this hole. You're just gonna hurt them both...as well as yourself."
Asa laughs then, turning to make himself a cup of coffee. "Guys, you're overreacting. Neither of them is taking it seriously. It's just a bit of fun."
"Asa!"
"Fine, fine," he eventually caves under my and Harry's combined pressure. "I'm gonna talk to them both tonight." I send him a pointed look, seeing right through his bullshit. "Promise!"
"It's not any of my business, Asa, but I'm just telling you as a friend," I say softly. "If you don't do anything now, it may soon be too late. They're both nice girls, so fix it...while you still can."
Asa sighs, lifting his arms up in a gesture of surrender. "I can't believe you're the one lecturing me. Two weeks of shagging Harry have done won–"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Asa!"
We both laugh when I proceed to chase him around the kitchen, smacking him repeatedly with the kitchen rag while H quietly looks on, a deep, thoughtful frown still etched onto his face.
__________
"So you mean to tell me that all this time, when you two met on the boat, and then when you dm'd her—the real her—you had absolutely no clue that she could be the fence girl?" Asa checks, tipping his head back in a loud, boisterous laugh.
"How was I supposed to know?" Harry yells over the noise in the karaoke bar. "It's not like she's the only redhead in LA, and the odds of us being in the same place, at the same time…"
"But she avoided you the entire night!" Asa is clearly having the time of his life, downing one shot after another and teasing Harry about his apparent stupidity. "You didn't find that even slightly suspicious?"
"Well, it's not like it hasn't happened to me before…" H trails off with an uneasy laugh. "Women getting nervous around me, I mean."
"Arrogant fool," I snort. "You really thought I would lose my shit because of some, some– pop star? Now, if you were actually Jagger and not just his weak look-alike…"
Harry snickers at my playful insult. "Hey! Sometimes the most unexpected people turn out to be huge fans."
"Sorry to burst your bubble," Asa chimes in, "but it's more likely for her to lose it around her favourite pianist than you."
"Yeah," Harry grins, "'m well aware of it now."
They clink glasses before downing their respective shots of tequila.
"Cheers," Asa says after waving the bartender over to order a refill. "I still can't believe that you didn't realise who she was… Especially after you started texting on Twitter."
"Well, to be honest," Harry looks at me, "the thought crossed my mind once after you'd shut down my invitation for coffee. But then I realized: it's you. It would have been easy to check out some of the recent interviews just to hear your voice, but the idea seemed so ridiculous that I didn't even bother."
He doesn't even need to explain—we both know what he meant. Why would a girl that has virtually everything spend her nights outside some random man's house? I can't say I blame him for jumping to that conclusion; I would too if I were him.
"Asa, has she ever told you how it took me a good month to finally make her stop calling me strange names?"
Apparently, a bit of booze has loosened Harry up enough to take us on a trip down memory lane.
"That's 'cause you were being annoying." The images of how it all began come flooding back, a pang of nostalgia surging through my body. It seems like a lifetime ago. "Most of the time, I wanted to jump over the fence and strangle you. Good times."
"Not all that good," Harry murmurs, subtly tipping his head closer to mine. "I didn't get to hold you back then...or touch–"
"You two are sickening," Asa chuckles, "in a cute way." Apparently, his hearing is sharp enough to pick up Harry's filthy remark.
"Speaking of name-calling…" A wicked grin takes over Harry's face as he glances at the stage, where the band has just finished playing a slightly off-tune rendition of a Guns N' Roses song. "I reckon I'm gonna take my shot before the place is fully packed."
He grabs the sparkly glasses that Asa has been carrying around since his wild New Year's Eve night, secures them on his nose, then saunters off towards the tiny stage.
"What is he up to?" Asa asks.
"Who knows," I giggle. "It's better he does it now that this place is still relatively empty, though." Less chance of someone recognising his voice.
I'm momentarily distracted by the arrival of Megumi, which makes me lose sight of Harry in the crowd. She orders yet another round of drinks, offering me a shot—my first of the night. Asa shakes his head in a warning, mouthing a cautious, 'You don't have to', but I'm already swallowing the drink and relishing in the familiar burn of alcohol in my stomach.
"I'm okay," I assure him. "I feel amazing! Better than I've felt in months, maybe even years. I want to have fun with you guys."
I expect him to argue, maybe throw in some warnings of what could happen if I let myself a little bit too loose. In contrast to Sal, who's never cared what I did as long as she got to have fun too, he's always been my voice of reason. But this time, he simply smiles in understanding and throws his own drink back as well.
When the music finally starts up again, indicating the start of another performance, I'm already on my third glass and feeling pleasantly warm and fuzzy.
"It's starting!" Megumi suddenly cheers as Harry's tipsy voice fills the room. "Is that Nirvana? I love that song."
I twirl in my seat to face the stage, my head bopping to the beat of the drums. I think I know where he's going with this.
"...She's over-bored and self-assured," Harry sings. "And no, I'm not a narcissist."
Asa turns to me with a raised eyebrow. "What the hell… He forgot the lyrics?"
"No, he's just getting back at me." I smile fondly as Harry flawlessly flies through the chorus despite his slightly drunk state. "I called him Kurt once, like ages ago… 'cause he's a narcissist and it's a known fact." That just furthers Asa's confusion. "You know, like Cobain?"
Asa hums in understanding, his mouth parting to form a small circle. "And he still remembers it? Damn, my man's got it bad."
I remember everything you've ever said to me, Cherry, I recall the words he'd once said to me. For some reason, the idea of him being so fond of me makes me emotional and… nervous. My chest growing tight with each passing second, I fight to keep my growing anxiety in check.
"You okay?" Asa whispers.
"Yes," I smile tightly, "Let's drink!"
The bar begins to fill up more people, a couple of Harry's friends coming in and occupying the bar seats next to us. We engage in an easy conversation, which eventually—and mostly because of Asa—turns into plotting.
"I've had the most brilliant idea," he exclaims. "Let's sing one of Harry's tunes to embarrass him. Kiwi?"
The rest of the group cheers in agreement, but I'm not convinced. "You're gonna achieve the exact opposite of embarrassing him. He's totally gonna love it."
"She's right," Megumi chimes in. "Let's do a One Direction song! One of the early...questionable ones."
I open my mouth to warn them that Harry's way too comfortable with himself to be bothered, but they're too excited by their nefarious plan to pay attention to me, let alone listen. Next thing I know, possible song choices are being thrown left and right.
"Let's just go with a classic," someone suggests. "Their first single."
"No, he loves that one. Didn't he remake it for his own tour?" Asa answers. "Maybe a track from their debut album… The absolute worst of it all? Something that will make even H cringe."
"No one will know the words to some random song!" Megumi argues. "The point is to get everyone to sing along."
Here's where I decide to break my silence. "Does it really matter? I, for one, wouldn't know the words to any of their songs anyway."
"You don't count. You used to live under a rock… wait, you still do," Asa dismisses me with a bored wave of his hand. "Just sit here and look pretty."
From that point on, their little debate continues without me. Only half-listening to what they're saying, I nearly miss it when they finally decide upon a suitable song. When Harry starts elbowing through the now thick crowd, eventually making his way back to us, the entire group goes deathly silent.
"Heeey… everyone?" he asks unsurely.
Asa catches Megumi by the hand and begins to drag her towards the stage. If the silence didn't tip Harry off that they're up to something, their behaviour just now for sure did the trick.
"What have I done?" he jokes, slipping into the now vacant seat on my right. "Was my singing that poor? Gotta admit 'm a bit pissed, yeah."
As if his droopy eyes weren't enough indication, he then stumbles a little, drunkenly pressing his cheek against my shoulder.
"They're planning to sing your band's old song to annoy you." I cut straight to the chase.
"Oh." Just as I predicted, H's face doesn't even flinch. "S'fine, but they're gonna draw a lot of attention to us."
"Whatever. Let them take pictures. Live while I'm still young n' all that," I comment despite the slight hint of worry sizzling in my gut. "That's the one they're singing, by the way."
"While we're young," H corrects, once again amused by my complete lack of knowledge of his early band days. "Are you ever going to familiarize yourself with my discography? I've watched every film and show you've ever starred in. Even the ones where you were still missing your front teeth!"
"I know your solo songs," I defend myself. "If you want me to listen to the old ones, you'll have to play them for me."
H scoffs, pulling his head back with a silly, drunken grin. "Looks like you'll be hearing one just about...now."
We both cringe when our friends' loud, off-tune singing fills the room. In-between the slurred lines and startling bursts of laughter, I catch something about a girl, sneaking her out to celebrate and going cray-cray. It's hard to fully hear the lyrics though, not with how hard they're all trying to outscream each other.
"Uh, you might have trouble understanding the words, though," Harry adds after a moment of consideration.
"Tonight we'll get some?" I repeat the line they've just sung. "Weren't your fans mostly….young, underage girls?"
H shrugs his shoulders. "Don't ask me, I did not write that song."
A small smile twitches at my lips. "Harry Styles, corrupting the minds of young women since…"
"2010!" he supplies giddily. "Let me corrupt you some in the loo, baby."
He leans in close, running his nose along my jaw with a low, hungry growl. I am yet to experience Harry in his full-on, drunk glory, but judging by this sneak peek, he's the horny, affectionate kind.
The crowd screams then, our attention once again captured by Asa who's now walking off the stage, drunkenly stumbling in our direction. To his defense, Harry takes it all like a champ, laughing, humming, and even pumping his fists in the air whilst our friends basically shout the lyrics into his face. Their enthusiasm is infectious, and by the time the song comes to an end, even I'm in hysterics… and it's my giggling that eventually catches Asa's attention.
Before I fully register what's happening, the music has died down, the chorus coming to an end, and Asa is sticking the mic right into my face.
"And live while you're young…?" I sing nervously, way off-key and timid due to being caught off guard.
My breathing grows shallow as I palm my forehead in distress. Everyone's looking at me—not just our friends anymore, but also strangers. Some of them are fans, already trying to snap a picture. The tightness in my chest comes back full-force, and it's only because of Harry's booming laughter that I don't succumb to my near meltdown.
"You were supposed to embarrass Harry, not me," I point my finger at Asa accusatively. Desperate to take the attention off me, I then call out, "Drinks on me. For everyone!"
Thankfully, my tactic seems to work as everyone's focus switches to the next group coming up on stage.
Several songs and many, many drinks later, I am no longer just feeling tipsy—I am now at what I refer to as one step from total annihilation.
"You know what we need, guys?" I throw myself onto the bar to drunkenly wave at the laughing bartender. "Kiwi chasers!"
"A, how many times do I have to tell you that pubs don't just have buckets of fruit hidden under the counter, waiting for your arrival?" Asa sighs, looping his arms around my waist to pull me back until I end up half-sprawled across his lap.
"But, but– I want kiwi," I slur.
"Chase your shots with juice, or soda, or… whatever it is that normal people drink," he chuckles.
The pout on my face turns into a smile. "Asa…" I kiss his cheek with a giddy smile. "I love you." I spread my arms wide apart. "This much!"
"Oookay." He sways slightly under the strain of my weight. "I love you too!"
"Now I'm feeling abandoned," Harry chimes in playfully as I quickly throw another shot back. He's staring at me in that odd, intense way of his that seems to pierce right through my soul. Almost as if he knew I'm not feeling my greatest, despite making it appear like I'm having the time of my life.
"It's your turn to sing, A," Asa announces. "Which one are you doing? Joni?"
"I'm too drunk," I whine, my hand blindly reaching for the glass again. "Have mercy!"
In the back of my mind, I am aware that this could be the beginning of a dangerous spiral. There's a reason why I usually opt to avoid excessive drinking, at least in busy places. I still haven't gotten over my fear of crowds—most probably, I never will. In the past, sex and drugs had been my escape. Alcohol may be a slightly lesser evil, but it still boosts my anxiety, reminding me of every fear and open wound tucked away in the darkest depths of my brain.
But, once I start going down this path… Well, as proved by the multiple breakdowns I've experienced in the past, there's no stopping me.
"Let me." It's Harry who speaks up.
Gently, he peels the microphone from Asa's limp fingers. Whether he's helping me intentionally or not, I'm still thankful for the save.
"Do the lucky spin, H!" one of his friends yells.
"But I wanted to sing Toxic," he complains to me, "for you."
"C'mon, you're no fun," I tempt him. "Let fate decide...unless you're chickening out?"
Playfully, he narrows his eyes at me. "Fine. Hand it over."
The bartender laughs, reaching beneath the counter to reveal a small wheel with names of old and modern pop artists written all over it. H sighs, visibly cringing at the possible options before mumbling, "If I spin the band, I am not doing this shit."
"Oh, for fuck sake!" I laugh, reaching over to spin the wheel into motion myself. It rotates several times before gradually coming to a full stop.
Megumi peeks over Harry's shoulder, her expression turning hysterical when she sees the result. "No way! Harry, you must do Out of the–"
"No," H groans. "Absolutely not. This is where I draw the line."
I squint at the letters, trying to read the name in spite of my blurry vision. "Taylor Swift?" For some reason, H seems to be very embarrassed by this development. "I love her! I'll pick a perfect song."
"No–" Harry protests again. "Wait, I thought you don't listen to modern artists?"
"Yeah." A pause. "But it's Taylor," I say as if that explains everything. "In fact, I might just sing with you after all."
Leaning over the bar, I whisper the name of one of her recent songs to the bartender.
"Which one did you choose?" Harry looks absolutely horrified until the beginning notes of the track fill the room, causing his entire face to relax. "Oh, thank fuck." He lifts the microphone to his lips and hesitantly sings, "It was the best of times, the worst of crimes, I struck a match and blew your mind… But I didn't mean it, and you didn't see it."
Megumi and her friends join in then, unable to resist singing along to one of their favourite songs. Much to my amusement, H lets out a visible breath of relief as he hands the mic over. Admittedly, the girls do a much better job than he does, clearly knowing the lyrics well unlike Harry. At some point after the chorus ends, they gesture for me to continue.
"Well, he was running after us, I was screaming, "Go, go, go!", but with three of us, honey, it's a sideshow. And a circus ain't a love story, and now we're both sorry…" I sing before passing the mic to the next person. Turning in my seat, I focus my attention on the still pale-faced Harry. "What's gotten into you? You look like you've seen a ghost."
He shakes his head with a nervous laugh. "I just thought they were going to make me sing– nevermind."
"You're silly," I drunkenly bop his nose with my finger, which instantly lightens him up.
__________
The next two hours pass in a blur of laughter, fun...and alcohol.
Harry ends up getting his wish in the end, eventually singing Toxic. Squished between him and Asa, with the latter's arm thrown over my shoulder, I watch H sing about 'a poison paradise' and how he's 'slipping under'. Judging by the way his eyes didn't leave mine throughout the song, I'd wager a bet that he was thinking of me.
His little performance puts everyone in the mood for more Britney, and at some point, even I get sucked into it. When the girls drag me towards the stage, I have no strength to object despite not wanting to be there at all. While I wouldn't have minded doing this earlier, I'm not exactly ecstatic about performing with the alcohol coursing through my veins… Not to mention all the accidental spectators now filling up the place.
But, as it often is the case with me, I don't know how to say 'no'.
The first verse goes by relatively smoothly… until there's a flash. Afterwards, I spot a single round, white dot in the distance—evidence of someone filming us. And then, the single dot becomes multiple dots of doom. It feels a bit like that moment when you're about to black out, white spots flooding your vision.
I fix my eyes on a random spot at the far wall, as if that would make the lights disappear. It's pointless—they're everywhere. My wired-up mind not only makes them seem so much brighter than they actually are, but also prevents me from thinking about anything else but that single, flashing camera in the corner of the room.
The girls next to me are still singing, too drunk themselves to notice that I've been eerily quiet since the second verse. My eyes lower down to my chest to see it move up and down in frantic breaths. Weakly, I hold on to the mic stand and pretend to sway to the music—anything to make it seem like I'm still enjoying it.
The lyrics aren't helpful, either. A tale about a famous, 'lucky' girl in constant pursuit of happiness—crying her nights away while the world idly looks on—is probably the last thing I need to hear right now. Why did they have to choose that bloody song?
Our audience cheers again and suddenly, I'm transported back in time to that day four years ago. Me, sitting at the ceremony and praying desperately that the award won't go to me… That I won't pull a Jen Lawrence and fall on my butt whilst climbing the stairs. The mere thought of standing in front of all those people, telling them just how thankful I am for my parents still makes me nauseous, to this day.
But you didn't win, a little voice in my head reminds me, and that was so much worse.
My mother completely lost it that day. According to her, there was no one to blame for that loss but me. It didn't matter how much effort and heart I put into the role, or that the other nominees were simply more polished actresses than my inexperienced seventeen-year-old self.
You should have done more promo for that movie.
You should have listened to me.
You should have tried harder.
My eyes remain on that bland, white spot until the end of the song. Waving half-heartedly at someone calling out my name, I hop off the stage and try to walk off in a somewhat dignified manner.
"You girls rocked it!" is the first thing Asa slurs when we make it back to the bar. Maybe he's noticed my distress, maybe not. Either way, his own intoxicated state delays his reaction, which allows me to slip away with some weak excuse about a bathroom break.
My face shielded with a trembling hand, I practically race to the front door. A couple of heads turn to bear witness to my abrupt escape. Each pair of eyes on me feels like a thorn drilling into my skin. It doesn't matter whether they're looking at me with adoration, or pure disdain. Their attention—no matter what kind—makes me feel naked.
This is what you wanted, you silly girl. After all, didn't I tell Harry I was ready to put myself out there? That I was fine with it all?
My eyes burn as I shake my head at my own naivety. What Harry has given me is the illusion of normalcy, nothing more. People like me—damaged people—are incapable of change; tonight has proved it. A single moment of weakness was enough to propel me into yet another episode. This vicious cycle of falling to my knees only to pick myself up for a couple of blissful weeks will never end.
You'll always be my biggest failure.
Someone's calling my name, desperate to find me in the dark alley behind the bar. I slump against the brick wall, defeated. The pain, even though it originates from my head, feels nearly physical. So all-consuming that even getting enough air in my lungs takes real effort.
"–talk to me."
Abruptly twisting my head to the side, I shield my panic-stricken eyes from Harry. He lowers himself to the ground and tries to peel my trembling hands away from my face. Another set of feet appears beside his, and suddenly, he's being pulled away from me.
"Turn around," Asa says in a quiet, yet forceful tone.
"We need to talk her through this," H argues heatedly. "She's panicking–"
"I'm not…" My voice sounds distant, as if shielded by a thick veil of fear and devastation. "I just– need–"
"I know, love, I know," Asa hums soothingly before addressing Harry again. "She hates being seen like this. Look away, H."
"But she can't breathe!" The clear desperation in his tone makes my heart clench.
"I know—it's terrifying, but you've gotta trust me on this. I know her. If you keep trying to help, it will make her even more upset."
"I don't need you to help me! 'M fine," I choke out, my words barely audible through my harsh, irregular breathing.
"See…?" Asa murmurs, this time succeeding in dragging H back to his feet. Their voices grow distant as they stand several steps away from me, talking in hushed whispers. All I make out is 'her mother' and 'weak'.
A few stray tears fall from the corners of my eyes. While I do believe with my whole heart that Asa means well, I still can't help the utter mortification I'm feeling.
My fragility—this fault in my brain was supposed to remain a secret. But now, Harry sees me. He knows just how much of a mess I truly am. And he'll leave.
Somehow, it's the fear of further humiliation that grounds me. My nails dig harshly into my arms as I finally manage to get my breath back to normal. My hands stop trembling, the tears stop falling. All because of my need to pretend—however pointless it is at this point—that I'm fine.
Pretending… It's what I do best.
When I finally drag myself up to my feet, Harry and Asa are still standing with their backs turned to me. If anyone saw us now, they would be getting quite an image. A broken girl, crying her heart out on the ground while two men patiently wait for her to be done.
With a deep sigh, I cross the small distance to them. "Sorry."
"Feeling better?" Asa asks in a way that one would talk to a wounded animal. "Can we look now?"
I nod sharply. Remembering they still can't see me, I then force myself to say a quiet, "Yeah. I'm ready to go back now."
They both turn around, but my eyes seem to be permanently glued to the dirty pavement under our feet.
"Go back?" Harry repeats. His voice may seem controlled, but I know him enough to spot a slight hint of agitation in there. "You just had a pan–"
"Too much to drink. I know." I sniff lightly. "Sorry for embarrassing you guys."
"You didn't embarrass us at all," Asa assures me, grinning brightly in an effort to lift my spirits. "As if anyone even noticed you leaving. Please. Don't be such a diva."
I force a tiny, tearful smile.
"Are you sure it's the smartest idea to go back, though?" Asa asks tentatively, knowing me well enough not to press too hard.
"Mhm. Positive." Facing everyone is the last thing I want, but I can't ruin their night more than I already have.
The ensuing silence is broken when all of a sudden, Harry slumps heavily against the wall. With his right arm shielding his eyes, he looks like he's struggling to stand upright. "Sorry. I might need to tap out. 'M so drunk."
"Oh?" Asa asks lightly. "You sure?"
"Yeah," Harry mumbles, his arm shooting out to tug at the sleeve of my shirt. "Come with me, darling? Gonna need help getting up the stairs."
His glossy eyes fix on me, a sort of hopeful edge to them.
"Well, you can't say no to that," Asa comments, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "Imagine if he trips and breaks his neck just 'cause we were too lazy to walk him back… His fangirls will murder us, and I'm too young to die."
"Okay," I agree in a small voice. "I'll go."
As if by pressing a magic button, Harry instantly straightens up. "Perfect! I'll go find us a car."
I hold his gaze for no longer than a split second before allowing the curtain of hair to shield my face. Exhaustion takes over my entire being as the truth of what has just transpired ripples through me—that Harry finally saw the real me.
And it wasn't even my worst… yet.
__________
Poor Cherry... So, we learned little bit more about what's made her so withdrawn. How do you think she will react the morning after? Will Harry get through to her?
Did you catch any hints in this chapter?
✨⭐ Please remember to support the story by voting if you enjoyed the chapter. It means a lot to me!
Also, to anyone who's waiting for the drama to start soon - don't worry, it's coming.
In...
*spoiler alert*
...chapter 40.