Throughout the rest of the night, it seems, I can't get a nice moment to reflect alone, as so many dancers and Stars are constantly coming up to me, congratulating me on making it this far, and wishing me luck for my trip home. I don't need luck, I need something to save me from having to go.
Tom and Erin have yet to announce my departure, if they even will tonight, even though Harry and I were already announced safe for next week.
Afterwards, Harry and I were left to roam. I go off on my own with headphones over my head on nearly full blast. Nuclear by Mike Oldfield plays while I dawdle about in the corridors and numerous practice rooms. I'm not sure if Harry is still following me or not.
Towards the end of the show, I presume, my question is answered when Harry taps on my shoulder, pulling me out of my trance. I look up, and the room is brighter than I remember it being, and Harry's body just blends in with it, making me think he's like an angel, it a ghost, ready to which me away, holding me captive so I don't have to leave. I'm not sure if I would object or not.
"Nic, they're calling us to the stage." He pulls me by my arm when he realizes I'm not going to willingly follow him. "C'mon, darling."
"Whatever it is can't be that important." My voice seems low, airy, like it hasn't had time to warm up for public use. I don't care anymore.
Harry's grip isn't tight, so I slip my arm awry from his grasp, drawing back into the music that never seems to be loud enough.
Because music wasn't made to block out thoughts, only the real world. Both are unbarable to deal with.
"Love, please. It's about you. They've just announced who was eliminated."
I don't want to go, I don't want to hear the story, albeit false, once again. How long must I lie before I gain the courage to tell the truth?
Either way, I follow behind him, his hand grabbing mine just to make sure I don't run away. Maybe for moral support too.
"Do you know who was eliminated?" I don't care that my voice broke in the middle of my sentence.
"Lorde and Derek. Is it bad to say I wish it was us?"
A few hours ago, I would have said yes, but now? I'm not sure. Everything seems so real now. After the show ends its over. My departure is inevitable.
I don't reply. I want him to stay optimistic about this season. I want him to drive to win, or at least keep going after I've left. I know he can.
We arrive at the side of the stage. I catch eye contact with Louis across the way. He looks annoyed, but an underlying emotion is also present in his demeanor.
I'm not sure how long we were out on stage. Harry kept his hand around my waist as Tom quickly explained to the camera and the audience whatever story he was told. I'm not sure if he went into full detail, or if he even explained why I'm leaving at all. My ears refuse to listen.
_-_-_
Some of the dancers and even some Stars invited me out tonight. Maybe it's to just spend some time together before I go, or maybe it's a celebration that I'm finally returning to Ireland. I don't understand why anyone would want to celebrate with me over that, but I keep reminding myself that they don't know I left on bad terms with everyone.
I decline all their offers in the nicest way possible. I'm not trying to be rude, but it's a bit hard when all the these people who didn't care much about me before, suddenly think they can step up to the plate right as I'm about to leave. Sadly, that's how people generally works. Nobody notices you until you're gone, or just about to be.
Harry doesn't want to leave, but he, too, is included in that group of people I wish to splay away from. I love having him around, and I know he feels hurt that I've left him backstage on his own, but I really just want to be alone, allowing me to reminisce in peace.
I've stopped listening to music, because it seems to slowly take it's toll on me. The wrong song could come on and I could lose it. Tears aren't allowed. I also prefer to dwell in silence.
I'm not sure where Louis' gone. Demi left right after the show, but not after wishing me luck and telling me I'd find a new job in no time. I haven't seen Louis since I caught eye contact with him right before I went out on the stage, which I didn't realize at the time, but it was my last time to ever be on that stage with a live audience and a camera rolling.
I'm walking aimlessly backstage, completely ignoring anyone that tries to talk to me. Harry is sitting by the door, probably waiting until I've finished my narcissistic mourning.
The cables above me shake, emitting an echo. I'm not sure how I noticed, considering I was lost in my own head, but the abandoned cat walk shakes slightly and I see short legs dangling off the side, curling around the bottom of the suspended equipment to keep some balance.
This sparks my interest. I can tell by the hands that are shaking about the bar that it's Louis, but what is he doing up there? The last time that he was up there, that I know of, is when he tired to find me at the beginning of the season.
I look over at the ladder that leads directly to that specific elevation. I don't know what pushed me to go up there; I don't know if it's because I really do need someone to talk to, or maybe it's because I know he needs someone to talk to. Whatever the force being, it drove me to climb up that ladder steadily and join Louis.
Neither of us say anything when I curl up next to him, my legs pulled to my chest and my arms wrapped around them loosely. We both seem to be lost in our own heads.
I'm not sure how long I sat up there with him before I speak. "I'm going to miss you." my voice is hoarse, just like it was when I talked to Harry last.
He's still quiet, but leans into me a little, resting his head on my shoulder. He's looking up at the ceiling, his eyes following the cables which lead to nearly every part of the studio.
"I wish I didn't have to go."
He closes his eyes, "Then don't."
"I have to."
"No, you don't. You can stay here; try to get another job." He mumbles.
"Even if I wanted to stay here, Louis, I can't. I've already lost my home. My parents are taking me back to Ireland tomorrow. And I wouldn't want another job, you know that. I didn't give it up willingly; it was torn from my grasp."
"You know, I'm really starting to hate your parents."
"Yeah, that's understandable. Who thought that the reason a came here would also be the reason I went back?"
He's silent for another few seconds. "Please, Nic. Promise you'll at least come visit me."
"I'll come visit you, Louis."
"Promise?"
I think back to a few months ago when Louis promised me that no one found out anything after Meghan came to the studio. That seems like so long ago. "Esimorp."
He smiles as me, laughing slightly.
It might not fix my problem, but at least it made the weight lift from my shoulders, if only for a second.
_-_-_
The night goes by too fast. It seems like no time passed when my phone vibrates harshly. I had fallen asleep before I was able to plug it in, and it's just resting next to my head. The sound scares me into consciousness, making me jolt from Harry's arms. He groans, trying to pull my back in.
"Don't leave." He mutters against my back.
I sigh, pulling myself from his grasp, my legs going off the side of the bed one at a time. "I have to." Grudgingly, I pull myself from the burrowed warmth of the bed, my feet touching the chilly rug of Harry's bedroom.
Harry sighs as well, kicking the comforter and sheet off him, failing a few times before he's finally able to get the cloth away. He then sprawls out on the bed in a starfish position, throwing his head farther back into the pillow, scrunching the pillow up against the headboard.
Neither of us dare to speak as I collect my small suitcase that I've stuffed into his closet, trying to hide away the future. Sadly, this future is inevitable, and avoiding it can only do so much.
I don't have many belongings, I've realized. I thought I had a lot more than what all I could fit in my suitcase, but, in all actuality, nearly everything I've owned wasn't even fully mine. My suitcase contains mostly clothes, save for a few necessities and personal items.
As the wheels drag across the rug, my eyes remain on the carpet, even when Harry comes up behind me and hugs me.
We stay mostly silent during the car ride to the airport. I feel bad that Harry was given the job to take me to the one place I have left to say goodbye, but he offered, and there's no way I could tell him no.
It's not that I'm scared we'll be seen, or that things will get sappy really quickly, or even that Harry will meet my parents.
No, I'm more terrified of what my parents will say to Harry. I know that I can't keep the secret hidden from Harry forever, but on the last day we have together, that we know of, I don't want it to end on such a metaphorically bad foot.
Much like the night was, the drive to the airport went by way too fast. Before I know it, we're being rushed to the waiting area, where my parents spot me just before we are able to sit down and become hidden by everyone else.
"Ni!" Meghan calls me, using my nickname, I hope for the sake of Harry.
I turn around, and Harry immediately knows what I planned on doing, when he leans down just enough so our lips meet in one of the most passionate kisses we've ever shared. It's slow, sweet, and all around, in my opinion, we've ever had together. Honestly, the best kiss I've ever received, but I'm not sure where Harry stands with that.
The kiss is quite long, and I'm guessing Meghan held my parents back from interrupting us. Instead of their annoying shouts of my birth-given name, it's the sound of camera flashes coming from somewhere. Harry pulls away to look around, as do I. I'm not sure how many people there are, and thankfully they haven't swarmed us. We still make our way over to the gate I'm supposed to enter in order to get on the plane. We did arrive pretty late, so they should be calling us very soon.
It turns out I'm right, when the screen changes our flight number to 'boarding'. I have a few more minutes before I have to leave Harry, though, and I plan to use every last one of them.
"I'll be watching you on the show in the last week. I don't know if it's available in Ireland, but I'll find a way."
"It won't be the same without you." He looks so heartbroken, but I have to be strong.
My parents and Meghan come over to join us at the gate. My parents motion into the corridor, but Meghan holds them back from saying anything. I'll have to remember to thank her later.
"Did you find out who your new partner is?" It's just small talk, but I don't want to say goodbye. Not yet.
"They told me it was some girl named Lindsay Arnold. I don't remember her name from anywhere in the season, though."
"She danced with someone, but I can't remember who. You'll like her, I promise." They call for our flight once again, and by now, there aren't many people left rushing through the gate anymore. Only a few people entering who missed the call the first time. Only a couple minutes left.
"You'll always be my favourite person to dance with." He actually genuinely smiles, causing me to smile as well, only, tears accompany my grin.
I can't hold them back anymore. I've been doing that for way too long.
Harry pulls me into his arms, kissing my forehead lightly. "I'll come visit you as soon as I can."
I don't reply with words. Instead, I just nod, sniffling so any nose drippings don't fall onto his shirt. I'm going to miss this place so much. All my friends so much. Miss him so much.
My mother must have gotten impatient, when she interrupts our moment. "C'mon, Niall."
I cringe, pulling away from Harry. I whip around to glare at my mother, but I'm stopped mid-turn as Harry's voice stops me. "Who's Niall?"
Shit.
Shit.
No. Shit, please no.
I'm saved from the awkward answer when an overhead voice says that's it's the last call for our flight to board the plane. My mother and father pull me by the shoulder. I catch eye contact with Meghan, who also seems frantic that my mother called that out, so carelessly.
I look at Harry once more, him looking straight into my eyes. I lean forward one last time and kiss him with as much passion as I could muster, while still being rushed and frantic.
"I'll miss you." I whisper, and my parents are finally able to pull me away from Harry.
"Wait, darling, who's Niall?"
There's no time to answer, as I'm already being forced down to corridor. I'm scared to turn around and face him, not like I'm even given the chance to be able to. The grip my parents have on my shoulders are tight and unforgiving.
"Who's Niall?!" Is the last I hear from Harry, before it goes completely silent again.
Save for the sound of our footsteps down the corridor, leading me back to the one place I wish I'd never have to go again.