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All the love, Mad
(Jordyn's POV)
I've been looking forward to going to this concert for months now. I spent all the money I had saved from working over the summer to buy the ticket. But it's going to be worth every penny. It has to be. It's front row for Christ sake. Front row at the first concert I've been to of Harry's. My first Harry Styles concert.
I can't believe it's finally happening.
I have been waiting for this concert since I was sixteen. That's when I discovered Harry's music.
Before you curse me for not listening to One Direction when they were actually still together, you should know it really wasn't my fault. I was never aloud to listen to pop music when I was a kid, but we'll get into all that a bit later.
Don't want to scare you off just yet.
I've never had enough money to purchase a fairly good ticket before. And by fairly good, I mean getting a seat close enough to watch the performer in person instead of the massive screen that's annoyingly delayed two seconds behind. Even though I'm only twenty one and only had to wait a few years to get a ticket, I feel like I've been waiting for ages. But I'd wait a hundred years if I had to for him.
Was that too much? No, I think it was the right amount he deserves. Right? Moving on.
I'm not going to pretend that I know Harry personally, because I don't. And a meet-and-greet is hardly meeting him no matter what they call it. I just want a chance to really know him. Not pay hundreds of dollars to get a selfie with him like a millions of people already have. I want to have a moment with him that's one of a kind. Is that too much to ask? If it is, I don't care. I will get my one of a kind moment with him and I will fight until I get it. And call me crazy, but I think my plan might just work. It's a longshot, but if Harry's as nice as he seems to be, a miracle might just happen tonight. And I pray it does.
Before your curiosity consumes you, I'll tell you this crazy plan of mine.
Long story short, I bought this bright yellow poster board wrote one sentence on that sign. Which is, "Harry, I wrote you a song!" His response will change my life. Whether it's for the better or worse is one hundred percent up to none other than him. The better being that by some one in a million chance he actually wants to hear the song. And if he wishes to, that means I could finally get my one of a kind moment with my role model.
Please don't get me wrong. I in no way think that some music producer will watch the video of me singing-that I'm sure someone will take-and signed me. That would straight up be using Harry for his fame and I would never, ever do that. I just want Harry to know how he has changed my life and me singing my song for him would explain how he did just that.
Truth be told, I don't even want to sing in front of all those people. And you better bet your ass that I'm going to ask if there's a possibility I can sing it to him alone, but if he says 'no' then I'll be forced to share it with everyone at the show and not just him.
Unfortunately.
But whichever way I get to share it with him won't matter to me because either way, I'll get to share it with him. And I will be eternally grateful for that opportunity.
I've been waiting in line for hours now. Even though I already bought my front row ticket, I still have to wait in line behind all the general admission people. Which I don't mind, really. It's nice to meet new people. Especially people who love Harry as much as you do.
Well... I wouldn't go that far.
I was one hundred dollars short of getting VIP passes, but the seats behind them are the next best thing, so I'm grateful for that. Once they finally open the doors, everyone-and I mean everyone goes crazy. People are shoving their tickets in the poor security guards faces. I make sure to be more polite. The second I'm inside I take off in a sprint to my seat. And the waiting was completely worth it because I'm about the twentieth person to get in my seat. Everyone else was busy buying merchandise.Why am I not one of those people, you might ask? Because I literally don't have enough money to buy anything else. I barely had enough money to buy the ticket in the first place. I for sure don't have anymore money to spend on merchandise.
And besides, people usually get merchandise as a souvenir. But every concert I go to, I always keep my ticket for a souvenir, so that's good enough for me.
The anticipation is nearly about to make my chest explode as the lights finally go off about an hour and a half later. When the curtains finally rise up and I see him, my heart sinks to my toes. My eyes immediately become glued to him. It was so serial at first, just to be able to look at him.
He's so handsome.
How can a person be that attractive?
He's wearing these shimmery, mustard yellow pants with a floral design on them and a sheer black shirt.
Holy shit, his tattoos. Their so sexy. He's so sexy-
Dude! Snap out of it! He's just a normal person.
I have to mentally remind myself not to focus on just his angelic looks. He's so much more than that. I can't wait to hear him be his cheeky self. Fuck! I can't wait to see him trip!
You know it's bound to happen at some point tonight.
Mentally slapping myself to come to, I get out of my head long enough to sing along with him. He sounds even better in person. He blows me away with every lyric he sings. Soon I stop myself from singing along to save my voice. You know, just in case. When he reaches the end of the third song, I say one last prayer and throw my sign up in front of me.
Please see it. Please see it, Harry.
"Hello, Greenville. How is everyone doing tonight?" He asks politely.
The crowd just screams in excitement.
"I hope everyone is doing well and I hope everyone is having a nice time. Thank you so much for coming. I love each and every single one of you, truly." He explains genuinely.
With my head still behind my sign, I hear silence linger from him for a moment and I think I've missed my chance. Peeking my head out from the corner of the large poster board, I find his eyes on my sign. My fucking sign. He squints his eyes a bit and says, "I wrote a song for you." And before I have time to process, he eyes meet mine and I swear to you, my heart stopped beating. He's really looking at me. It's finally happening.
Well, what the fuck do I do now?
"You wrote a song for me?" He interrogates, pointing his index finger to his chest.
All I mange to do is nod my head.
"What's your name?" Harry wonders aloud.
Good question, Harry.
I wish I could tell you, but my mind is totally blank. I'm speechless.
Dude! If Harry asks you a question, you answer! I command myself.
Swallowing my nerves as a few seconds drag on, I answer him. "Jordyn."
"Sorry, what was that?" He asks taking his earpiece all the way out of his ear and letting it rest on his left shoulder, cuffing his hand behind his ear.
Damn, that's cute.
"Jordyn." I say louder.
"Ah, Jordyn." He repeats, receiving a nod from my frazzled self. I can't help but think that my name sounds so much better when he speaks it. "May I hear this song, Jordyn?" He smiles sweetly, looking awfully intrigued.
I nod my head once again. If I can barely talk, how the hell am I going to be able to sing? I mean, when words fail, right?
"Lovely, come on up." He gestures towards himself with a wide and welcoming smile pulling at his lips.
Alright Jordyn, this is where you walk. I move slowly through the crowd. I'm nervously shaking and accident prone. Not a great combination.
Do not fall. Don't you dare fall on your face or ass in front of Harry.
I could care less if two-three thousand people see me fall, just as long as one of those two to three thousand people is not Harry. In saying that, I take my sweet time walking up the stairs to the stage, just to be safe. And by some miracle, somehow I manage to get up on stage without tripping over my own two feet. But remember, the nights not over yet. I still have the challenge of walking back down the stairs.
Harry hugs me instantly.
Holy shit, he smells good. Like, good, good. He's deliciously intoxicating.
Never in my life have I been so relaxed and anxious at the same time. With his arms around me, immediately I feel safe, protected. But then I realize just how close he is and that's where my nerves start acting up. It's not that we're too close. He has his hips respectfully pushed away from my body as he towers over my 5'2 self. Mirroring his actions, I keep my distance from the waist down. But I lean into him instinctively, lightly connecting my chest to his. I sure hope when he lets go I'll still be able to stand by my self. And if not, I'm screwed.
Harry speaks a little loudly in my ear over the crowds excitement. "Are you alright?" He asks, probably sensing my scattered nerves flying about.
Must you be so obvious, Jordyn?
"Yeah, it's just... I would rather sing it to you in private instead of all these people, but I don't know if that's an option." I explain nervously in his hearing.
"Sorry, but the fans are dying to hear it. I can't let them down, now can I?" He gives me a smirk, leaving me to sigh at his answer.
Of course he's a smooth talker, why wouldn't he be? "No." I roll my eyes at the fact I'm losing the argument before it's even begun.
"Listen, you'll be great. Just pretend we're alone and you're singing just to me. Alright, love?"
Did I not hear him correctly or did he just call me, 'love?'
Placing his large hands on my shoulders, he looks intensely in my eyes. The intensity was most likely not intentional, but still, I was intense for me. "Think you can do that?" He tests, one I can't afford to fail.
"Yeah." A smile breaks it way through my nerves and lands on my lips.
"Yeah?" He questions with joyous faith.
"Yes." I answer with a hint of playful sarcasm in my eye roll.
"Yay! Can't wait to hear it. The stage is yours." He steps aside and leaves me in front of the mic, all alone.
Instead of letting the mic visibly shake in my sweaty palms in front of thousands of people-including Harry, I decide I'll be more comfortable resting my shaky hands on the microphone that lays in the stand. Timidly stepping into the blinding spotlight, I squint my eyes as I try to adjust my focus on just one thing with the sea of people before me. My head starts to ache as my eyes scatter across the room. My nerves bubbling with all the pairs of eyes staring me down. And just before I froze in a numbing mental breakdown, Harry's gaze draws to mine like a magnet, perfectly timed to ground me just before I drifted away.
Clearing my dangerously dry throat, I at last find the confidence to speak. "Um, hi. I'm Jordyn Smith. Is everyone having fun?"
The crowd goes crazy with screams and phrases I can't make out. Let's hope they're not telling me to get my ass off the stage so they can get back to listening to Harry. And if they are then so be it. I'll only be a couple minutes, they'll survive. The question is, will I?
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