Harry's perspective.
"Maddie?" I whisper quietly from outside her door, straining my ears for any sound or response from within, but I hear nothing. Dammit, she must be asleep.
Tonight was a night of firsts for me. It was the first time I've ever invited anyone up on to the stage to sing with me in an empty arena. The first time I've ever crossed the boss-employee line with any members of my crew. Excluding the drunken kiss with Maddie the night before of course, which I've decided doesn't count as she can't remember it. And maybe most surprisingly of all, it was the first time I can recall ever being disappointed to see Mitch.
When we arrived back at the hotel, and I spotted him lurking in the doorway of the lobby, I knew straight away that my time with Maddie tonight was over and it bothered me a lot, more than it should have done really.
After all, I am in the middle of a tour, it's kind of understandable that my manager might need to actually discuss the upcoming shows with me every now and then. But Jeff's timing really couldn't have been worse tonight.
I had planned on inviting Maddie up to my suite when we got back, no, not like that! Get your minds out of the gutter. Just to talk. I need to establish what she wants, what we are to one and other, where we are going to go from here. I don't want to just be the guy who kissed her a few times then went back to being her friend, I need to know what she's feeling, or I'll drive myself mad thinking about it.
As soon as I saw Mitch's face though, I knew from his expression that Jeff was in one of his moods and I'd have to go and talk to him. Mitch isn't a man of many words, but often the look on his face can tell me more than words could anyways. I had to, begrudgingly, let go of Maddie's tiny hand which I hadn't managed to loosen my grip on the whole ride home, and send her off to her room without so much as a goodnight kiss and that utterly sucked.
The meeting with Jeff had dragged on and on for hours. I couldn't stop myself from glancing up at the clock at regular intervals, and I lost track of the conversation several times. I am pretty sure I agreed to adding fringing to the suit I'm going to wear in Mexico. Because that's what every Guitar players needs, rogue bits of thread to get tangled up in the strings mid-song, but I couldn't seem to make myself focus. All I wanted to do was get out of there as quickly as possible and get back to Maddie before she fell asleep.
That's why I now find myself standing outside of a hotel room door at three in the morning, whispering pathetically at the dark wooden door and debating whether or not I should knock or if I should be a regular person and leave our chat till a more sensible hour.
In the end, it was the energy-saving lights in the long empty corridor that made the choice for me.
Designed to only come on when they sensed movement, the lights had been triggered as I had approached Maddie's hotel room, but now that I was standing idly staring at the door, and had been for several unmoving minutes, they began to dim and eventually flickered off entirely, engulfing me in darkness. That's when I knew it was time to go to bed. Hovering outside a ladies hotel room in the dark is not really something I want to be caught doing.
Shit. Damn you, Jeff. I muttered under my breath as I made my way back towards the lobby, resigning myself to having to wait until tomorrow to speak to Maddie. Walking past the long gleaming oak desk in the main lobby though I spotted a hotel issue notepad and pen on the side and had a brainwave.
"Can I borrow this?" I asked a sleepy-looking attendant behind the desk, who's eyes shot open comically at the sound of my voice.
"Erm, yeah mate, sure." He drawled in a heavy Australian accent. I nodded my thanks and bent over the desk to write.
Maddie's Perspective.
For some unknown reason, I found myself wide awake and staring up at the slightly yellowed ceiling of my hotel room as the sun began to rise the next morning. Forcing its way around the tightly shut curtains and sending shards of multicoloured light dancing across the beige walls of the hotel room. Sammy, as usual, was snoring away happily on her side of the room as I lent over the nightstand between us to locate my phone.
I'm not going to lie, when I flicked on the screen and scrolled through my notifications, my heart sank to see that none of them were messages from Harry. I had hoped that maybe he'd have sent me a message after speaking to Jeff last night, but there is nothing.
Resigning myself to the fact that I was not going to get any more sleep and that laying here wasn't going to do me any good, I heaved my tired body out of bed and decided to go off and sample the hotels' breakfast selection. I quickly brushed my teeth and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before dragging a brush through my tangled hair and grabbing my trainers.
As I plonked myself down on the battered old two-seater sofa that sat under the window to pull them on, I saw it. A small folded piece of paper was sticking out from under the door to our room. It's crisp whiteness contrastingly strongly against the horrific almost blood-red carpet and dark wooden door frame. What on earth...
"She's mad, but she's magic. There's no lie in her fire." Charles Bukowski.
Have dinner with me tomorrow night when we get to Sydney? My suite. 8 pm. H x
For a moment, I find myself practically swooning in my hallway. I've never received a 'love letter' before in my life, and the first one I get, not only contains actual poetry but is also written by Harry Styles for fuck's sake. How is this my life?
I read the short note three times before managing to take it all in, is he implying that I am mad but magical? I suppose, given my behaviour lately, that's probably fair. What other word could you use to describe someone who you had to fish out of the ocean when drunk except for mad? But magical? He thinks I'm magical...
"There's no lie in her fire." There certainly weren't any lies in the fire I was feeling last night when I was in his arms that's for sure.
Slowly, I make my way back over to the sofa and fold myself up onto a ball in the corner of the scratchy fabric, the note still clutched tightly in my hand. I take a long, steadying breath and read it again.
Noticing this time that his slightly slanted, multi-looped letters are jotted on the hotels branded notepaper. He must have come here last night after he was done with Jeff, hoping I'd still be up I realise. Damn it, no wonder I didn't have any messages from him on my phone this morning, why did I go to bed so early? I should have waited up. I scold myself as I focus again on his question.
"Have dinner with me tomorrow night when we get to Sydney?"
Did he just ask me on a date?
"Morning. What you got there? As you're up... wanna make me a tea?" Sammy's voice interrupts my jumbled thoughts. Dumbfounded and knowing she'll get it out of me eventually anyway so there's bugger all point trying to hide it, I hand her the note wordlessly and turn my back on her as she reads to starting to make us both a cuppa with the limited in-room supplies the hotel offers.
"Oh my. Poetry? AND a date request? Someone's got it bad!" Sammy exclaimed loudly a few moments later, almost making me drop the teaspoon.
"I don't think I should go," I reply instantly. Without even consciously deciding to say it, voicing the fears that are swirling around in my mind as I fish out the tea bags from the cups and throw them in the nearby bin. Good job we're heading to Sydney tomorrow, we've only got two bags left, I notice as I hand Sammy her cup.
"What?! What do you mean you don't think you should go? You're kidding, right? If a man wrote me a note like that I'd be in his room two hours before he asked, begging him to have his way with me!" she giggled
"Well, thankfully, I am not you." I tease her "I don't know Sammy... He's my boss for one thing, and I didn't come on this tour to start hooking up with anyone! I'm supposed to be trying to further my career."
"What could possibly get you noticed faster than dating Harry?" Sammy asked me with a wide smile, trying to contain her amusement.
"That's the whole point though, I don't want to get noticed because of who I'm dating! I don't want to be another face in the papers with him, another woman for them to rip apart thinking I'm just with him because of who he is. I want to make it on my talent."
"Maddie, you're getting ahead of yourself. You guys have kissed once, and now he's asking you to dinner, it's not like he suggested you be his date to a red carpet event or anything."
"I know it's just, surely it would be less complicated to just end it now? Before anything really begins? Before anyone gets hurt?" I ask her in a quiet voice, which comes out as little more than a whisper.
"Who says anyone has to get hurt? Look, Harry's got a bit of a reputation, sure. But I don't think he'd ever intentionally hurt a fly. It's just Dinner Mad's. Go, eat food, have fun, and see what happens."
"I'll think about it, ok? Isn't tomorrow night your big date with Freddie?" I ask her trying to change the subject. After weeks of spending pretty much every night together, Freddie has finally convinced her to let him take her out properly. To try and actually be a couple instead of just fuck buddies, and after much debate, Sammy has agreed that they can give it a try.
I wish she's just admit to herself how much she likes him, maybe this date is exactly what they need.
"Yep. He won't tell me where we're going though, he says he wants it to all be a surprise. Dork. You know what this means though right?" she asks
"Erm... that we both potentially have dates tomorrow night?" I say confused, raising my eyebrows at her.
"That we need to go shopping!!" Sammy burst out, jumping off her bed and nearly spilling her tea in her enthusiasm.
I can't help but smile back at my friend as she drains the last of her tea and places her cup on the side. Within minutes she has ordered a taxi to pick us up in half an hour and take us to the nearest shopping centre. I have a feeling today is going to be a long day!