Maddie's perspective.
"God Maddie, what are you doing to me?" He asks in a low voice, slurring slightly, his eyes full of lust and without really thinking, with the fuzz of alcohol drifting through my head clouding my judgement and the drumbeat from the song pounding in my ears, I stretch up on my tiptoes and press my lips to his.
The moment our skin touches, I instantly know I've made a mistake. His lips are too thin, too dry, they don't mould around mine the way that Harry's used to, and they feel alien to me. I feel Deans tongue looking for an entrance, and instinctively I part my lips as his arms wind up behind my neck and drag me ever closer to his muscular body, and a slight shiver runs down my spine. Unfortunately, he misunderstands this as a good sign and deepens the kiss, his tongue probes my mouth, twisting and turning against my own, and a foreign taste assaults me. There's no hint of Harry's ever-present chewing gum sending minty freshness into my mouth, just the tang of whisky and stale cigarettes, I didn't even realise Dean smoked.
This isn't right. This was supposed to distract me from Harry, not remind me once again of all the things I have given up. His hands are too small on the back of my neck, I feel his fingers brush against my skin and instantly miss the rough callouses that decorate Harry's slender digits as Dean's too smooth ones skim across my neck, and finally, I come to my senses and pull away.
"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have..." I begin, but Dean cuts me off
"No, no! Don't be sorry. Maddie, I've wanted to kiss you since the moment you walked out on that stage in Toronto." He says breathlessly, smiling widely from ear to ear and raising a hand up to tuck a stray strand of my hair behind my ear as he leans his mouth back down towards mine, involuntarily I cringe away from him, cursing myself for my stupidity.
Fuck I really have screwed this one up, haven't I? This man currently holds my future in his hands. If I offend him I could be throwing away the chance to fulfil my dreams, then everything, leaving the tour, leaving Harry, will have been for absolutely nothing, so I choose my next words very carefully. Taking a small step back to increase the distance between us, I force myself to look up into Deans bright blue eyes, shining with desire and my stomach turns over guiltily.
"Dean... I.. That was wrong of me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lead you on but I just.. I just don't feel that way about you. I'm sorry." I stutter, trying to apologise again, fixing my gaze on his and pleading with him to understand. Deep down I knew I wasn't attracted to Dean like that long before I threw myself at him, I just wanted... no, I needed to do something to make myself feel better. Harry didn't seem to have any trouble moving on the moment I was gone, and I wanted to get back at him, in some small, childish way but all I've managed to do is make myself feel even worse. Good one Mads.
"Oh, I see." He replies solemnly and takes a seat back on his vacated bar stool, grabbing his half-empty whisky glass from the bar and draining the contents quickly. We sit for a moment in silence as I fight against the fog of alcohol still drifting through my head and try to think of something that I can say that will fix this, something to undo the hurt I've clearly caused him and explain my actions.
"Want another?" Dean says suddenly, interrupting my thoughts as he slams his empty glass down a little too forcefully on the grotty bar top.
"I think I've already had too many," I say quietly. "I really am sorry, I'm not normally like this," I mumble, and to my horror, I feel tears begin to prick the back of my eyes. No, no no this is neither the time nor the place to have a meltdown! I scold myself, but I already know it's too late.
"You really love him, huh?" Dean asks, turning his head slightly so that he can judge my reaction.
Wiping away a stray tear that has managed to escape my eye, I nod helplessly.
"Come on, let's get you back to the hotel," he says with a resigned sigh and pushes himself up off of his stool beckoning me to follow.
The only time Dean utters a word for the entire cab ride back to the hotel is when he is giving the driver the address. He takes the front seat, leaving me to curl up as tightly as I can next to the window in the seat directly behind him, hoping that if I can make myself small enough, invisible enough, he'll forget I'm here. By the time we reach the elevator in the lobby, the silence is almost deafening, though, and my stomach is starting to churn uncomfortably from the tension in the air. We stand awkwardly in the lift, Dean on one side of the small space, leaning up against a mirrored wall with his arms folded tightly across his chest, his expression unreadable, and me on the other tapping my foot idly to the cheery instrumental music floating through the unseen speakers in an attempt to seem normal. By the time the large silver doors slide open on my floor, I can't take it anymore, I have to say something to break the tension so as we both step out of the lift, Dean a step or two behind me but clearly planning on walking me to my room, I take a deep breath and try apologising again.
"Dean I really am sorry, I know it's no excuse, but I really wasn't thinking straight after all those cocktails and I.."
"Maddie stop." He says forcefully, placing a hand gently on my arm and spinning me back to face him. "I get it OK, you aren't the first person to have their heartbroken and go looking for solace in the bottom of a bottle or the arms of someone else." He says, and I think for a moment that I see understanding in his eyes before he turns his gaze from me abruptly as if he can't bear to look at me right now. "But next time, maybe don't jump on someone that you already know has feelings for you. Just because you're hurting, doesn't mean you need to inflict pain on someone else."
I feel my face heat up at his words, and I am sure that the shameful blush creeping up my neck and across my cheeks is easy to see under the harsh fluorescent lights bouncing off the stark white walls in the hotel corridor. Did I realise he liked me? I ask myself seriously, searching for my brain frantically for the answer and trying to be completely honest with myself. Yes, a small voice echoes in the back of my head. I did know, I think I knew from the first night we met when he hugged me and pulled me in a little too tightly, held on to me for just a little too long. Shit.
"You're right, it wasn't fair of me. I'm.."
"If you say you're sorry one more time I'm going to have to rethink forgiving you," Dean says exasperatedly and runs his fingers through his short hair, but there's a smile playing on his lips.
"I'm forgiven?" I say, hopefully.
"Yeah, I guess. I've known from day one that your heart already belonged to him. But if you want my honest opinion? I think you need to try and move on. You've got an opportunity here, a real opportunity to do something amazing, to have the life you've always dreamed of, don't throw it away cos of some guy, no matter how bloody good looking he is." Dean smirks, making me giggle.
"Thank you," I say sincerely, feeling my shoulders relax slightly as the weight of guilt and fear are lifted slightly from them.
Without another word, Dean starts walking again, leading the way down the long corridor to my room and waits whilst I try multiple times to get the bloody key card to work before impatiently taking it out of my hand and slowly swiping it for me, of course, it works first time for him, bloody typical. He pushes the door open and holds it open so that I can step inside.
"Goodnight Maddie." He says in a low voice, and I stretch up on my toes once again, only this time, when I lean in, I kiss him lightly on the cheek instead of pressing my mouth onto his.
"Goodnight Dean."
Harry's perspective.
Walking up the short, rickety steps to board the small private plane revving its engines on the tarmac at a small private airport on the outskirts of New York I pull my phone from my pocket and glare down at it unhappily. No calls, no messages. Nothing.
The first time I tried to call Maddie last night when I got back to my hotel room her phone rang a few times, but since then all I've got is the automated message from her carrier telling me to leave a message. I managed to leave a couple, both garbled crap asking her to call me back as soon as she got the messages. Not being entirely sure what she actually saw, I didn't want to start apologising to her answering machine in case I just ended up making things worse, again. It seems like every time I try and explain myself to her that's all I manage to do, and I can't bear the idea of her sitting alone somewhere in LA misinterpreting what I am trying to say and ending up even more upset, so I decide it's best to wait until I can actually get her on the phone properly, explain properly. Fuck I'll even get Julie to call her if that's what it takes to make her believe that nothing happened between us.
Sighing I slip my phone back into my bag and make my way down to the very back of the small aircraft wishing it was taking me to LA and to Maddie rather than to Washington DC for my next show. Shoving my bag down in the footwell before me, I make myself comfortable in the leather seat, secure my seat belt and pop my earphones in. For a change, I'm the first one here, so I quickly shove my sunglasses on and close my eyes, hoping that I can pretend to be asleep for the ninety-minute flight so that I don't have to try and make polite conversation with the band. As much as I love them all, I am just not up to chit chat at the moment.
I guess at some point during the flight I must manage to actually drift off, as the next thing I know, Mitch is gently shaking my shoulder to rouse me.
"H, time to get up mate." He says in his
quiet American accent and I slowly open my eyes.
"Are we there already?" I say groggily, I didn't realise just how tired I was after barely getting any sleep last night and I rub my eyes in an attempt to wake myself up a bit as Mitch starts to pull his bag out of an overhead compartment nearby.
"Yeah, we're here. Jeff called whilst you were asleep, wants to talk to you when we get to the hotel."
"Oh, wonderful," I reply sarcastically, fairly sure that I am not going to want to hear whatever he has to say.
"Alright, mate. You got my message then?" Jeff says as he pulls open the door to his suite and swings it wide open, extending an arm to invite me inside.
"Yeah, Mitch said you wanted to talk to me?" I tell him, making my way over to the nearest sofa and slumping down in it.
"Look, mate, I don't want to stick my nose into your personal life or anything, and I know you're hurting, but, you can't let this thing with Maddie affect the tour. The fans loved you and Kacey's duet in NYC, but it was a one-off yeah? You can't use every stop on the tour to sing to try and win her back, you know that right? Nor can you be pictured falling out of clubs wasted every night either." He says firmly, but not unkindly. I know that he's just trying to look out for me and he's right, I can't screw up my first ever solo arena tour because I fucked up my relationship, we've all worked way too hard for me to allow that to happen.
"I know Jeff, I know. I just... I miss her, that's all."
Jeff walks around to the sofa and sits down next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing slightly.
"So fix it. Get her back." He says matter-of-factly as if its the simplest thing in the world.
"If only it were that easy, I really fucked up this time Jeff. She flew to New York, the morning after the show. I sent her a video of Kacey and me singing. She's the one that I found on YouTube, and I guess she decided to come and see me, but, Julie stayed with me that night, I was in a right mess, and she didn't think I should be on my own. And I'm pretty sure Maddie saw her leaving my room the next morning. I'm guessing she went straight back to LA again, cos she certainly didn't stick around to see me, I've been trying to call but her phones off." I blurt out quickly, and instantly feel better for opening up to someone.
Jeff throws me a sympathetic smile. "But nothing happened between you and Julie, right?"
"Of course not, Julies gay, she's already told me she'd rather sleep with Maddie than me." I chuckle darkly, trying to find some humour in the situation.
"So tell Maddie that then. Apologise for whatever stupid thing you did to make her leave in the first place and make her realise what she means to you."
"How am I supposed to do that when she won't answer the phone?" I ask tiredly, leaning back heavily on the soft sofa cushions.
"I get that you're younger than me H, but even you must remember that once upon a time, people did used to manage to communicate without cell phones," Jeff smirks, he's only a few years older than me, but that doesn't stop him poking fun at my age on occasion. We sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before a light bulb illuminates in my head, and just like that, I know what I'm going to do.