Despite the fact that she's only been on the tour for a few shows, setting up the barriers without Maddie chatting away at my side feels wrong somehow. I've gotten used to the easy banter between us and having to pick up after her clumsy arse.
I don't tend to bond with other women all that well, something to do with my bad attitude according to my mum. Still, with her, I felt a kinda instant connection, probably cos she's just as mouthy as I am I suppose. Since her 'accident' though, Paul's had her on light duties, which is probably for the best really given she's all one-handed and shit, but it's meant that I've barely seen her.
By the time I got back to our room after the last show in Glasgow, she was already curled up in bed, purposefully facing the wall, pretending to be asleep. I say pretending, cos it's bloody obvious to anyone with eyes that she's barely been sleeping at all, the dark circles surrounding hers prove that.
She's been a totally different person to the loud, happy girl I met in Birmingham since her interview with that fucking creep though. God, what I wouldn't give to get five minutes alone with that arsehole! He deserves more than a knee in the dick after what he said and did to her.
Even Clark, who is like, the most laid-back bloke I've ever met, was desperate to go to his office before we left town and give him what for, but neither of us really felt like we could leave Maddie alone. To be fair, it would probably have just traumatised her more if I'd let him go beat the shit out of Novak, no matter how much he deserved it.
The night Mad's told us what had happened, Clark ended up sleeping on the floor between our beds in our tiny hotel room bless him, his long limbs curled up under a threadbare blanket. Thank fuck no one spotted him leaving the next day.
We'd have been the talk of the crew if they'd put two and two together and come up with five, in the way that anyone would seeing a bloke leaving the hotel room of two girls first thing in the morning. And since then, one of us has tried to be with her as much as possible, but there are some things we can't control, like our work schedules.
I hate seeing her so broken, but I know it's much worse for Clark. He looks at her like his kid sister, and I can only imagine what my family would do if someone tried to force me to do something like that against my will.
Despite us both telling her she needs to, there's one thing that Maddie still hasn't managed to do yet, and that's talk to H. I noticed as we got off the plane in Glasgow that she didn't even bother to turn her phone back on after switching it off for the flight. She just tucked it into her suitcase and, as far as I can tell, it's still there now, I guess she got tired of dodging his calls. I don't know how long she reckons she can avoid him for, he's the sodding star of the show after all, at some point, she's going to have to face him, like it or not.
I flick my eyes up to the stage where H and the band are running through soundcheck and take a long hard look at his usually too beautiful-for-his-own-good face. Even I can see that he's not himself. His usual cheeky smile is missing as he goes through the motions with the band, strumming away on his guitar to Two Ghosts, but seeming like he's a million miles away. I guess I'm not the only one who felt a connection with Maddie, looks like her avoiding him is starting to take its toll.
As the band start up another track, I make my way backstage to grab a quick drink before I head off to help set up the B stage. I know I'm a fucking coward, but honestly, I've been avoiding H nearly as much as Mad's has been the last couple of shows.
It's not like I know him well or anything, he's certainly never driven me around in some stupidly expensive posh rental car, mores the pity. Still, I do know him well enough to know that he's not stupid, he's well aware that Maddie and I are friends and that we've taken to rooming together. I figure it's only a matter of time before he starts asking me why she's avoiding him, and I'm a shit liar, there's no way he'll believe that I don't know.
I glug down my water as quickly as possible, which gives me possibly the worst timed case of the hiccups that I have ever had. I try and hold my breath as I walk back out into the arena, not wanting to draw attention to myself. Still, of-fucking-course, just as I am slipping past the main stage, trying to be all inconspicuous and shit, my diaphragm betrays me. I let out what has got to be the loudest hiccup known to mankind.
"Jesus!" I hear Harry exclaim into his mic as he looks over at me wide-eyed. His hand pressed against his heart in shock.
Half the crew instantly fall about laughing, and I can feel my face start to grow hot as I bob into a mock curtsey and try and laugh along with them. Whilst still hiccuping, for fuck's sake. I quickly try and make my way down to BStage, but I've not gone more than a few steps when H starts to call out to me.
"Sammy? Wait up! Can I have a minute?" he asks in his slow drawl, and I can hear his footsteps behind me as he jogs to catch up.
Turning around slowly, I try and fix a smile on my face and look normal, as if that's ever going to happen. I seem to have finally stopped hiccuping though, so that's something.
"Sure H, I've not got long though, my boss is kind of a tyrant ya see, and he'll kick my arse if his stages aren't set up in time," I try and joke, but I can see from the look in his eyes that he's not in a joking mood.
Seems my attempts to avoid him have been in vain and I start scrambling around in the deepest darkest corners of my mind to come up with some excuse to give him for Maddie being MIA.
"Funny," He says, without a trace of humour as I stand stock-still in front of him, waiting impatiently for the question I know is coming. "Erm, I was just wondering, you share a room with Maddie, right? It's just, well, I've erm, I've been trying to get hold of her since London, but... I dunno, is her phone broken or something? I've seen her around a little, but..." He trails off and runs a hand through his curly brown locks, clearly searching for the right words.
I instantly feel bad for him, he's Harry Styles for fuck's sake. I'm guessing most women would run into burning buildings to answer a call from him. This can't be a situation he's had to deal with too often, it also can't be easy having to come and ask me what's going on either.
"Harry, I really think you should be talking to Maddie about this, it's none of my business," I say, trying to get out of the sticky situation I have landed myself in whilst inwardly cringing that I just accidentally quoted one of his own song lyrics to him. Shit. This is why getting close to people on tour is a bad idea, even when people aren't romantically involved, things can get messy fast.
"It's not like I haven't tried! Please, Sammy, I know something's going on, she hasn't spoken to me since before her meeting on Thursday and, when I see her around the venue or the hotel, it's like, I don't know! It's like she's avoiding me, and her hand... Paul said she had some kind of accident? I just. I need to know she's ok," Harry stammers, speaking even more slowly than usual, his bright green eyes boring into mine, jeez, his stare is intense.
I glance around the arena quickly, hoping to spot Paul or Clark maybe, damn even Freddie would be a sight for sore eyes right now. Anyone who I can excuse myself to go off and talk to instead of being stuck in the corner of the vast arena with H begging me for answers that I don't think I can give him. But there's no one within earshot of us at all, typical.
There's never any peace on this tour, but of course, the one moment I want other people to be around, they all disappear into some kind of mysterious black hole that only they can see. I look back at H, and I can feel my resolve faltering, there's a pleading look in those big eyes of his that I reckon even the most stubborn of people would have trouble resisting.
"Harry..I..."
"Please, Sammy, just tell me she's ok?" he begs, and I feel the last tiny bit of my resolve give way.
Fuck, am I really going to do this? Betray Maddie this way? I know, without a doubt that she should be the one to tell him, but I'm really not convinced that she will.
Surely he has a right to know? He was the one who set up that fucking meeting after all, what if he sends another unsuspecting girl over there and that perv tries the same routine again? How many times has he already done it? I question myself as Harry stands towering over me, his arms folded tightly across his chest, making the tattoos on his muscular forearms bulge.
"Not here" Is all I manage to say in return. Still, it's enough, his expression changes instantly to one of determination, and he places a large hand on the small of my back.
"Come with me" He orders and starts marching me backstage.
He leads me through a maze of corridors. Each whitewashed hallway covered in different tour posters from artists who've played in this venue over the years, the bright colours and smiling faces seem to taunt me as we make our way past them.
Eventually reaching a door with a laminated piece of paper stuck to the front proclaiming it to be his dressing room.
Harry pushes open the door and gestures for me to go inside, and I can't help but be a little star-struck. I've never been in his, or anyone else's private dressing rooms for that matter. Floor-length curtains are covering every wall giving the room a homely, comforting feel, and a large couch is positioned right in the centre adorned with Gucci cushions, really H? I think to myself as he follows me in and shuts the door.
"Maybe we should sit?" I ask him quietly as my brain works at a million miles an hour trying to work out what I should say.
"Sammy, you're freaking me out, can you just tell me what's going on please?" Harry says sharply, and I cower slightly under his imposing gaze, I don't think I've ever seen him even somewhat angry before, and the effect is unnerving.
"Ok, Sorry, this isn't easy for me you know, I really shouldn't be telling you at all" I snap back, but this time he doesn't answer me, he just stands there staring, waiting for me to continue. "Yes, she's been avoiding you ok? That meeting you sent her off to? Well, the guy she saw turned out to be a complete fucking pervert alright! He.. he.. he tried to fucking force himself on her," I blurt out, my tone much harsher than it should have been when delivering such shitty news, nice one Sammy you idiot. I scold myself.
"WHAT?" Harry shouts, and I swear the combination of his deep booming voice, and the look of complete horror on his face nearly makes me run from the room right then. "He? Did you say HE? My friend at the label, the one I sent the video to, is a SHE not a he?" He questions still confused.
"Yeah well, apparently she wasn't available, so Maddie saw some other guy instead, Novak his name was. And after grilling her about what sexual favours she'd bribed you with to get an interview there in the first place, he then told her he'd only sign her if she gave him the same and tried to force himself on her. She ended up kneeing him in the balls, but, well, her hand was in the way and she broke it, that's the 'accident' she had! Not to mention the sprained wrist and the fucking bruises she's covered in!" I shout, my own fury at the situation finally bursting out from me after days of trying to keep it caged up whilst Maddie's been around.
"FUCK!" Harry shouts again "Fuck fuck fuck!" He spins suddenly and with a swipe of one of his long arms and pushes over a nearby clothes rail which is holding what I assume is his suit for tonight's show.
It crashes to the floor where he continues to kick it manically. Cursing at the top of his lungs. "I need to see her" he finally says breathlessly when he's done kicking the shit out of everything within reach, the dressing room looks like a tornado's just swept through it. I had no idea he'd react this way, but I guess he's feeling guilty on top of angry.
"H, Harry, you don't have time right now, you've got to be on stage in little over an hour," I tell him, glancing at the clock on the wall "Besides, don't you think maybe you should try and calm down a bit first? You can't go to her like this, she's scared enough at the moment." I say, trying to keep my voice level.
I can't have him storming off to confront her backstage where anyone could hear about this shit. Hell, we shouldn't be talking about it here in the privacy of his dressing room!
"Some dickhead tried to force himself on her at an interview that I fucking sent her to! How the fuck do you expect me to react?" Harry screams again, "I should have gone with her. I shouldn't have sent her off there on her own... Why wouldn't she tell me?" he starts, but I cut him off.
"Don't. Don't do that, don't make it all about you. This isn't about you, or me or anyone else! It's about her, Harry! Right now she's fucking scared out of her mind, in a huge amount of pain, and most of all? She's convincing herself that it's her fault! That this is just what people in the industry expect from young girls, and that she should have known, shouldn't have been so naïve. Shit. She's probably beating herself up over the fact that she might have let her one chance to follow her dreams slip away because she wouldn't suck the guys' fucking dick!" I'm yelling again, and I know I've gone too far this time as I watch a look of horror and guilt slide over Harry's features as he recoil's at my words and collapses on to the sofa next to me, burying his head in his hands.
"I wish she'd told me," He says quietly, and I can hear the tears he is fighting to control in his thick voice as he speaks.
"I'm sorry," I say quietly. "Look, you should talk to her. We're in room two-oh-six tonight, why don't you go up and see her after the show? Here, take this. I'll hang around in the bar for a bit of something after, give you guys some time to talk" I say, passing him the key card to our room. I know full well there's no chance Maddie will willingly open the door for him or anyone else for that matter. I reckon she'd lock me out if she could, to be honest.
Harry takes the card in his hand and stands, wiping his eyes on the hem of his T-shirt. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, just so you know though if she kills me for telling you? I'm gonna come back and haunt your arse." I tease him, trying to lighten the tension in the room, and he gives me a weak smile. "Try not to think about it for now, ok? You've got a show to do" I add as I get up to leave.
"Yeah... I'll try" He says and gives me a brief hug. Just as I reach the door, he calls out to me, "I'm really sorry Sammy, I never wanted... I never meant..."
"I know," I tell him, and with that, I leave him alone in his dressing room and head off to the cafeteria, praying that Paul hasn't noticed my absence and that someone else finished setting up the B Stage barriers when I disappeared.