Mid-January to mid-March 2018
It's weird, how quickly your perception of what's normal can change.
When the extraordinary, somehow, becomes your ordinary.
After their high-flying start to the year, Harry and Eloise didn't quite come back down to earth for a while.
Their hounding by the paparazzi and media peaked, then plateaued somewhat. Interest didn't abate, but the novelty, and indeed payday, of capturing them together tapered off. It helps that, to all intents and purposes, they're relatively boring. Endless shots of them happily hugging and chatting as they go about their business, just don't command the same price tag as some of their more dramatically-inclined peers.
The Oscar nominations were announced in late January. Disappointingly, with musicals and comedies so often at a disadvantage to the more dramatic, Eloise didn't receive any. Dunkirk scored eight nods, including Best Picture; but, with a reduced number of tickets for the ceremony, Harry wasn't overly keen on putting in all that effort, just for the after parties.
So, without the need to continue stoking the awards chatter or work the schmoozy Hollywood circuit, they were free to head home to London earlier than anticipated.
He had another month and a half before his tour resumed, and she was busy writing, but on her own schedule, so they were intent on making the most of their relative downtime.
>
They stopped off on their way home, for a magical few nights in New York.
After hanging out with them, both backstage and in the front row during all the star-studded tributes, Harry then had the honour of introducing Fleetwood Mac at their pre-Grammy's MusiCares benefit concert, in honour of their 'Persons of the Year' award.
He then joined them on stage to perform The Chain. His favourite song, with his favourite band, and in front of the Grammy panels that had snubbed him?
Sweet, sweet music, indeed.
>
They made it home in time for Harry's birthday, and headed straight up to Holmes Chapel, for a fun but chilled day, celebrating with family and old friends.
But, that's not to say things quietened down in England for long, not at all.
They returned to London in time to see Eloise's brothers thrash Wales in a thrilling and suspense-filled win at Twickenham Stadium, during the Six Nations rugby championships.
And they were soon back into the scrum themselves; juggling stylist fittings and interviews.
The BAFTAs, in the middle of February, were glamorous but fairly reserved.
Both nominated, there was a huge buzz upon them arriving on the red carpet together.
Dazzling, in black sequinned Louis Vuitton for her and a black jacquard Gucci tux for him, they certainly looked the part.
Upon pulling up to the majestic Royal Albert Hall, he flashed a dimpled smile to the cameras as he buttoned his jacket, rounding the car to open her door and gallantly offer her a hand.
Watching with a moony smile as she stepped demurely out, he couldn't help but pull her in for a quick kiss.
Heading slowly up the tiered steps of the red carpet, they were alongside each other for all their subsequent interviews, and questions naturally crossed over.
There was more schmoozing and catching up with various friends and acquaintances at the bar - quite literally rubbing shoulders with the likes of Margot Robbie, Florence Pugh, Lily James, Daniel Craig, oh, and not to mention the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. What is this life?
Seated alongside each other during the ceremony, the sense of eyes on them became increasingly tiresome as the evening wore on. It felt like there was a camera pointed at them more often than not; and certainly up close and personal as the nominees for their categories were announced.
Daisy Jones & The Six lost out for Best Original Music, and Timothée Chalamet's fans had him pipping her to the post for the Rising Star Award. Harry couldn't help but lean over and drop a conciliatory kiss to her temple. "You were robbed, baby". It wasn't the first time he'd been caught mouthing something slightly inappropriate in someone's ear by a television camera; likely not the last, either.
Disappointingly, Dunkirk missed out on Best Film and Best Director again, but did well in the more technical categories.
Both the BAFTAs and the upcoming Oscars felt a little like snubs after their initial unexpected triumphs at the Golden Globes.
They, and the chatter accompanying them, also served to heap more pressure on Eloise's choice of next movie role. Inundated with scripts from new contacts and admirers, and with invites aplenty from casting directors, it felt overwhelming and disproportionately critical. Busy enough working on the script for the second season of Killing Eve, she resolved to focus on that and take her time. What's the rush, really?
>
Notoriously riotous, the BRIT Awards, just a few days later at London's O2, certainly proved more fun.
Outfitted in bodiced and frothy Dior as the trophy on his Calvin Klein clad arm, Eloise was relishing the lack of pressure.
Keeping a firm hold of her hand down the red carpet and throughout his interviews, the pair of them laughed good naturedly as friends photobombed and heckled them. Nick, Alexa, Rita and Ed, to name but a few. And, in town for a couple of weeks from LA, Rosie was there too, randomly.
Inside, they hung out with the likes of Mabel, Dua Lipa, Ellie Goulding and Little Mix, but couldn't help but gravitate to towards Niall, and also Liam, who was there with Cheryl.
Hosting, Jack Whitehall had a field day, roasting the three of them.
After lamenting the anti-climax of their not-so-secret relationship finally being made public, ribbing Harry for his fashion choices and then proceeding to pass off the full glass of wine he downed from their table as neat tequila, they could only breathe a sigh of relief when he upped the ante on Liam and Cheryl. No one needs to know their safe word, that's for sure.
Disappointed not to have been nominated for more, Harry did win Best British Video. He beat Liam, and Zayn and Taylor too, but there was some controversy, as the final result was tight between him and Little Mix, and their fans unfairly claimed it was rigged.
Heading back into Central London for the Sony afterparty at the Corinthia Hotel, and plied with too many killer cocktails, they then tipsily braved the paps to pile into a taxi to the even wilder unofficial after party at The Box nightclub.
>
After shaking off their not insubstantial hangovers, it was soon time to swap red carpets for guitars, amps and a stack of plane tickets.
But, before heading back out on tour in mid-March, Harry channeled Eloise and added another feather to his cap; modelling for Gucci.
Alessandro had been buttering him up for months, but it was the first time a gap in his tour schedule synced with their campaign marketing production timelines.
Fronting the Tailoring campaign, he rocked a plethora of wild suits, accessories and animal accomplices in a traditional fish and chip shop, in St. Albans, of all places.
He was a natural. In front of the camera, and with the chicken.
>
After their three month break, the band reconvened in London for a few days of rehearsals, including two incredible new unreleased tracks, Medicine and Anna.
Heading to Switzerland, they then didn't come up for air for a while.
Eloise was back to burning the candle at both ends. Travelling and tagging along to interviews and soundchecks by day, then concerts and socialising by night, she worked feverishly in between, pulling out her laptop at any opportune moment. She was under huge pressure to submit the completed final script of the second series of Killing Eve, then Netflix also roped her in to help round out some characters for Sex Education.
She certainly made good use of her uncanny ability to catnap.
Harry often found her pretzeled around her laptop, tucked into his bunk, or a sofa, or hunched over his dressing room table. So he employed a massage therapist to join them on tour; ostensibly for her troublesome neck and knotty shoulders, but the rest of the band and tour crew made the most of the new perk too.
>
>
11th April 2018
One month later, after seventeen shows all over Europe, Harry has an epic homecoming, back in London.
For the first of two shows at The O2, he's keen for all his guests to have a very warm welcome.
Having submitted her final script earlier in the week, Eloise had been at a loss for something productive to do, so quickly volunteers to ferry guests from the backstage sign-in desk, through the warren of tunnels, to the large green room next to his dressing room.
The tour manager gives her a walkie talkie and everything; she's practically a roadie now. "Hmm, an upgrade from groupie?", she quips, beating Mitch to it. Peeved at missing the opportunity for one of his speciality pithy one-liners, he grumbles in complaint and rounds the band up for the venue meeting.
"Prettiest roadie ever then", Harry whispers between quick pecks, chuckling when she startles in fright as the walkie talkie crackles to life in her hand.
He laughs again when he clocks her raised eyebrow at her callsign; "Groupie-One".
"The fucking cheek!", she chuckles ruefully, shaking her head.
He shrugs, "Pretty lame gag...". Quickly jumping back, he dodges her swat before spinning on his heel to catch up with the others for the meeting. "Besides, you're more like Groupie-Twenty-One!", he cheekily calls over his shoulder from the doorway.
"Ooh, careful Styles! Or you won't find out what this Groupie's up for later...", she hollers back.
"Groupie-One? Do you copy?", the walkie talkie crackles again.
"Tosser-Two? I'm on my way, keep your bloody knickers on!". After a month on the road, she has the Roadie tour crew banter down pat.
>
Soon hitting her stride - literally, and grateful for her foresight to wear flat ankle boots today - Eloise returns again to the green room, this time successfully delivering Lucas, Ollie, her dad and godfather.
Heading straight in, their rowdy chatter and boisterous shoving pulls everyone's attention.
It's already fairly busy in there; she'd already shown in his mum, various aunts and uncles and cousins, and a number of their family friends.
But she's surprised to see Harry and the band already back from their meeting. They're mostly busy perusing the buffet spread, but it's Harry - unsurprisingly - that catches her eye.
He's in the corner, conferring quietly with Anne, head bent looking down at something. Hearing her dad's distinctive laugh, his head snaps up and he whirls away from his mum, quickly whipping an arm behind his back, looking to her wide-eyed. Hmm, not suspicious at all?
But she's distracted from any sleuthing when the walkie talkie crackles again. Fucking hell.
With a stern warning to her brothers to behave, she strides off again.
>
Returning, with Gemma and Michal this time, Eloise enters the green room again and is even more surprised to find Harry locked in an intense back-slapping hug with her dad. Again, they both jump apart when they notice her.
Eyeballing them both suspiciously, something's definitely up. She resolves to keep a close eye on Harry; his surprise game has been getting better and better - she must have rubbed off on him.
But, promptly summoned again, she chuckles, "Oh, God, Grimmy incoming... Brace yourselves!".
>
Soon rounding the long corridor again, she melts to see Harry crouched down and hugging a young fan. She must only be about five or six, and wears a 'Rays of Sunshine' t-shirt. Her mum and a woman from the charity hover close by.
Pointing Nick to the green room, she hangs back to watch, smiling moonily as Harry interacts with the little girl.
But she clocks her and gasps, leaning close to whisper in his ear, wide-eyed gaze still locked on Eloise.
He grins and twists with a full, dimpled smile. Beckoning her over with a curl of his finger, he turns back and nods to the girl as he keeps chatting lowly.
Stepping closer, Eloise tugs at her tight skinny jeans for some give before squeezing his shoulder for balance as she squats next to him.
The girls whispers back and he beams and giggles cutely, casting his eyes over Eloise alongside him. "Yes, she does look a bit like a Disney Princess, doesn't she? This is Eloise, and she's my princess. El, this little ray of sunshine is Poppy".
She's grateful for the hand he'd dropped to her hip, when the little girl barrels into her arms and clings on to her neck in a tight hug.
"Which one's your favourite?", Eloise asks, then listens intently to the high-pitched whisper in her ear.
"No way!", she gasps, pulling back. "Mine too! Hey, though, do you think Harry looks more like Prince Eric or Tarzan? I can never decide... Do you remember his long hair?". Still chatting, she turns to look at him, smiling as she appraises his handsome features. His playfully raising an eyebrow has her biting her lip.
Apologetically, and only after another hug, some photos and an autograph, Harry is dragged away for soundcheck. Standing back up, he lifts Poppy up to sit on a crate in the hallway, saving Eloise's legs as he leaves her chatting sweetly with her and her mum.
Passing the green room on his way to soundcheck, Harry pauses alongside Crispin, who's loitering in the doorway and looking down the hallway. Her dad pulls his gaze from Eloise to nudge Harry and give him a knowing look before shooing him off.
>
It's her favourite tour outfit to date; the cropped pink velvet jacket with the gold sequins and embellishment, with the matching black trousers with a gold sequin stripe, and a white silk shirt.
Gaping up at him from the VIP pen at the front row, she can't help but notice his bum looks even better than she remembered from that fitting in Italy.
He's putting on a hell of a show. Oozing charm, he struts, prowls and dances around the stage with flair and reckless abandon. Magnetic and vivacious, she can't take her eyes off him, and assumes fifteen thousand other people would readily agree.
Having opened with Only Angel and Woman, he raises the tempo again after Ever Since New York and Two Ghosts, with Carolina and then, finally, Medicine.
God, Eloise adores it. That snarling guitar riff makes her weak in the knees, and seeing him grow in confidence with each performance has been a sight to behold. It's a firm favourite and highlight every night.
During The Chain, her dad and godfather sling their arms around her shoulders, jostling her in excited disbelief.
"He's just incredible!", Crispin shouts as he grins up at Harry. "I saw Fleetwood Mac do this live back in the day and enjoyed it less".
Her godfather agrees. "I daresay he'd give Mick Jagger a run for his money too... I should have known you'd end up marrying a bloody rockstar one day!".
She turns to gape at him, "Whoa! Wait, hold up...", but her attention is soon diverted when she spots Lucas in the front corner of the pen, looking worryingly like he's trying to encourage a stage dive. As she shrugs them off, she catches her dad slap her godfather around the back of his head out the corner of her eye. What the-?
Stepping back with a chastised Lucas in tow, mindful to keep a closer eye on him, she intends to grill them, but her brother stuns her silent. Looking up at Harry, he gapes, "Fuck, how can one guy get so much swag? Don't tell me he's great in bed too?", he barks a laugh, elbowing her roughly.
Fucking hell, she can't cope with any of them. She readily lets her stumble at his shove carry her away, towards Anne and Harry's cousins.
>
After smashing Kiwi and dancing around like a loon, totally into it, Harry does a final whale, perfectly in time with the band and the lighting crew. Then, after a final bow, he's done and the spotlights come down.
They all scamper hurriedly through the VIP pen railings and are ushered by stewards to skirt the front of stage for a quick getaway.
Emerging backstage, Eloise taps in the code and slips into his private dressing room, just as he steps out the shower. With his towel slung low, he tugs her straight into his arms for a kiss.
"Baby, you were on fire! That was incredible!", she beams up at him. "Oh, I'm so going to miss seeing that every night", she pouts.
"I'm going to miss seeing you shaking this cute little bum in the front row every night...", he gives it a squeeze, "I've so loved having you on the road for the last month, baby. I know it's been tough with your deadlines, but thank you so much, it's meant the world to me".
She tugs him down again for another kiss, overcome at the thought of not being with him all the time.
It's lights down on her touring, for now, too. She needs to get back to work and stay in London for pre-production on Killing Eve again, ready to then start filming season two in a few weeks.
But what a trip it's been! She's had so much time with him, seen so many amazing cities and venues across Europe, and loved being a part of their amazing and fun on-the-road family.
It's been an honour, to watch him do what he loves, night after night, spreading love and light and kindness wherever he goes. There's a plot twist for her - he's the bloody rainbow!
>
>
14th July 2018
While Eloise continued clocking miles across the UK and Europe, filming, Harry raked in far more air miles, tackling the Australian, Asian and Latin American legs of the tour.
She'd seen him back in London for a week, between Japan and Argentina, but that was a month ago. And evidently a month too long, having been in each other's pockets twenty-four-seven for the previous one.
Flying into Boston the night before her twenty-fifth birthday, she surprised him after sneaking up to his suite at the Four Seasons hotel just before 10pm.
A lazy morning in bed, followed by a decadent brunch, and then an afternoon catching up with the tour crew, made for a perfect birthday.
Their reunion certainly put a spring in his step.
Bedecked in Harris Reed's finest - sinfully snug, black silk trousers with a velvet stripe down the side, paired with a black, ruffled, pussy-bow silk blouse.
Gaping up at him from the front row, she could only describe his look as sex on legs; fittingly enough. And he sounded like it too; positively purring and hitting every note and belt.
Medicine had her squirming. When his eyes weren't shut in either concentration or ecstasy, his passionate gaze was locked firmly on her.
She couldn't bear to wait out Kiwi, so headed backstage early, pacing his dressing room until she could pounce on him and flick the lock. A happy birthday, indeed.
>
The next day, he'd practically sailed down the I95 to New York City, floating on cloud nine.
Not least when she'd told him they'd reworked the shooting schedule, and she was now free to join him back on tour for the next month, seeing out the last of the final leg, right across North America.
He certainly swanned back into Madison Square Garden with his ego fluffed and confidence sky high.
His rapturous fans had almost blown the roof off. It was a triumphant return; both nights.
>
But, now, 'Welcome to the final show'; indeed.
Harry arrives early with Eloise, and, rather than heading straight to his dressing room, makes a point of venturing round to the foyer, just inside the doors to The Forum.
Walking in his fans' footsteps - 17,000 last night, with another 17,000 due tonight - for the last time, he tries to get a feel for the whole spectacle; before the merchandise stand is packed up one last time, the 'Treat People with Kindness' floor vinyls are peeled off, and all the visuals and signage are taken down.
He's performed for over 800,000 people across eighty eight shows in the span of the last ten months.
It's been a wild ride. He's not even close to being able to comprehend the enormity of his achievement.
First, he just needs to finish it; then he can try to start unpacking some of it.
But, what he does know, is that he loves performing, loves his fans, loves his crew, loves his crazy job. And he loves it all the more when he has his girl at his side.
He's never felt more content or more sure of himself. And not least when he catches her eye, mid-song, and sees that look on her face. Elated and proud and happy and definitely moony.
>
Eloise has been off collection duty this afternoon. Her only role is that of dutiful, proud, supportive girlfriend.
As the green room starts filling, now less than couple of hours before curtain up, she can't help but grin, mid-conversation with Glenne and Sarah.
Just hearing her dad's booming laugh, James' sea lion cackle and Harry's guffaw from across the room is enough. She can picture them all perfectly, heads thrown back laughing with glee. A quick glance over her shoulder only confirms it, and reveals her three brothers alongside them too, sniggering more quietly. She's not sure she can envisage a more troublesome little gang. She can only be thankful Grimmy's not here tonight.
The atmosphere in the room is buzzing; positive, eager, proud.
Anne, Gemma and Michal; Des and his partner are here too. Eloise's parents and brothers, now enjoying their off-season, are all in LA for a holiday. Ben and Mer, obviously. James and Jules. Jeff and Glenne; and his parents and siblings too. The band's partners and parents. Tom and Jenny. Molly and her partner. Teams from Harry's label, management and publicists. Rosie and Jason are here too. Xander and Waseem. And some other familiar faces as well - Kendall; Rande and Cindy and their kids; Shawn Mendes; Meghan Trainor; Tracee Ellis Ross; Minka Kelly.
There's none of the bittersweet vibe from the final show of his last tour. If Harry has proved anything, it's that this is very much just the beginning for him.
Toasts are made, jovial heckles abound, and glasses clink in ongoing cheers.
>
Then, with that tell-tale run of fingertips down the inside of her wrist and sliding into her palm, Harry steps close and drops a quick kiss to Eloise's temple before whispering, "Come with me?".
How could she possibly refuse? Squeezing his hand, she makes her apologies to Sarah and to Mitch's parents, and lets him pull her away.
Shaking their heads and flushing at the immature cat-calling and whistling as they slip through the side door to his private dressing room, they can only laugh as Harry Lambert throws a comical grimace over their shoulders as he ushers them through.
>
Safely cocooned, he politely busies himself buffing the gleaming boots again as Harry pulls Eloise into his arms for a proper good luck kiss.
Then, enjoying the peace, she perches by the mirror and watches, ever fascinated, as he gets his head in the game; increasingly focused with each layer of his sparkling armour.
It's the black and gold version of the outfit she loved so much from the first London show; a cropped black jacket adorned with gold sequins, nicely framing his peachy bum in snug black trousers with a gold sequin stripe down the side, offset with a simple white silk shirt.
As he's given a final once over by his team, she catches his eye and they can't help but trade beaming smiles, with more than enough said in silent conversation between their locked sparkling gazes.
"Ready?", she grins at last, once they all step back and he's had a moment to blow out a deep breath and centre himself. "There's 17,000 people out there, ready to lap up whatever you've got left in the tank".
He smirks and steps closer, reaching for her hand and tugging her into his chest. As he dips his trailing fingers just under the mid-thigh hem of her black leather skirt, he whispers lowly. "Oh, I'm gunning for it, trust me... Better brace yourself for later", he trills in promise.
Slinging his arm over her shoulder, there's a pretty flush to her cheeks as he tugs the door open. Cheers aplenty resound at the sight of them re-emerging, and him in rockstar mode.
"Oi, oi... They look guilty! Something to celebrate?", Lucas crows, egged on by James alongside him. Wow, those two are trouble together.
"Stop, God... That's so inappropriate!", Eloise scolds him quietly, blushing that much harder as she casts her eyes around the room, crammed with family members and Harry's professional contacts alike.
Soon, all but Harry's closest circle are ushered to their seats, making room for a big huddle.
Then, with a final kiss and a cheeky promise he'll be coming in colours later, Eloise leaves Harry and the band to it and dashes to the VIP pen, desperate to not miss out on a moment of his final show.
>
He's electric on stage. Fizzing with energy and sounding incredible, he fills every inch of the vast venue, and commands the full attention of every single person packed inside.
After his penultimate song, The Chain, he returns to his mic after a quick breather. With another heartfelt thank you to the crowd, and a promise to return with some new music for them as soon as he can, he then seems to hesitate, possibly getting a little choked with the emotion of it all.
As he heads back towards Sarah's drum kit for another swig of water, Eloise keeps a close eye on him. And not just on his bum in those trousers.
She catches his shoulders raise and finally settle after a couple of steadying deep breaths, then sees him twist back again for an extra sip of water, before shaking out his wildly tousled hair.
Spinning, he heads back to his mic with an intent look on his face.
"You've been incredible, Los Angeles, I love you... We've only got one song left". He's interrupted by a roar of anticipation from the crowd, practically rabid with excitement for Kiwi. "But, umm, before we jump into that, I have a very important question...". With his eyes scanning near the front of the stage, Eloise can't help but wonder what he's up to. "Can we get the lights up for a moment please?", he asks his lighting director, "I need to see these beautiful faces".
When Anne grabs her hand, Rosie slings an arm around her waist, and Ollie squeezes a meaty hand to the nape of her neck, she feels butterflies explode in her stomach. What's going on? He wouldn't say anything pointed, surely? Not Mr. Privacy? Mr. Never-Complain-Never-Explain?
As he smoothly coos, "Ahh, there you are! Hello", there's another roar. Whilst 17,000 girls around the arena might think it's for them, with his cheeky smirk and eyes locked firmly on hers, Eloise knows it's all for her. Shit; she can feel adrenaline pumping into her system. What's he playing at?
After a beat, and a quizzical quirk of his brow, then a twist of a frown, and a subtle shake of his head to Mitch, Harry clears his throat, finally breaking their eye contact to continue addressesing the crowd.
"Oh, right, my question... So, you've been dancing and singing, sure. It's been great... But, for the next few minutes, I need every single one of you to absolutely lose your minds with me. Can you do that for me?".
The screams and stomping feet have the venue literally buzzing. "Okay, then... Show me what you've got!", he chuckles.
As the lights drop and he counts straight into Kiwi, Eloise is immediately distracted. Throwing the last of her drink back, down in one, she shakes out her arms and starts jumping, dancing and singing at the top of her lungs.
She doesn't stop.
And, as it happens, neither does he.
Not once. Not twice. Kiwi, three times on the trot. Wow.
"Well, there's no doubting his stamina is there? Fucking hell!", Rosie chuckles crudely, making Eloise's brothers laugh.
He gives it his absolute all. Returning from a dash through the crowd to the B-stage and back, he can barely get the words out on the third go around as he gasps for breath. Dropping heavily to his knees, as if in defeat, right in front of them at centre stage, he then proceeds to thrust and flail around like a maniac. He's having the time of his life.
Both the spectacle, and the expression of sheer joy on his face, are quite something to behold.
As he pulls the band together for a final bow, he applauds and blows kisses and waves to each section of the crowd in turn, then, with a final parting look over his shoulder, heads off stage for a final time.
But, as soon as he'd sung his last note, understandably slightly wobbly, Eloise had snuck under the barrier and signalled to a steward.
Waiting for him at the bottom of the steps from the back corner of the stage, she encounters the band first.
After quick sweaty hugs to the other three, it's over Mitch's shoulder that she finally spots him. Disengaging from his tight hug, she steps closer and opens her arms wide for Harry.
Still heaving and wheezing for breath after three Kiwis, he skips into a jog as soon as he sees her, swooping her straight into his arms and twirling her in a circle.
"You did it! You're bloody amazing... I'm so proud of you, H!", she babbles, totally overcome.
He takes her by surprise when his peal of laughter dissolves into a throaty sob.
He loses it, totally spent; overwhelmed at the accomplishment, and overcome with the depth of his feelings for her. He's sung his heart out, for her, about her, for eighty eight shows now, and can only dare to hope that the 800,000 fans he has performed for each gets to experience a love even a fraction as all-consuming and powerful as his for this willowy blonde bundle in his arms.
He's blissfully happy, content and fulfilled. What more could he ask for?
Not quite able to put it into words, he pours it into a heated kiss instead.
Perking back up after her steadying hold grounds him again - well, tethers him, at least; his feet won't touch the ground for a while yet - they head backstage, hand in hand.
>
Is it still a pep talk if it happens after the event? Whatever, it works; and he's full of beans and amped again by the time he's showered and changed, bursting back on to the stage, to another round of rapturous applause.
His nearest and dearest, plus the whole tour crew, are gathered on The Forum's stage for the afterparty. With a giant glitter ball lowered from the rafters, the sound system pumping and drinks flowing, they're all more than ready to let their hair down.
Her parents look on in disbelief. "Jesus, what is he on?", her Dad asks Eloise as he slings an arm around her waist, envious of Harry's palpable energy.
"Just adrenaline!", she shrugs. "That's just how much he loves it", she beams proudly.
But hers is already lagging. She eyes the drinks table eagerly, knowing she'll need a little help if she's to try to keep up with him.
>
>
15th July 2018
When they round the corner into the kitchen late the next morning, Ollie jumps out from behind the fridge, pointing a bottle of champagne right at them.
Eloise leaps in fright, out from under Harry's arm, jumping in front of him with her hands outstretched defensively. "Argh, stop! What the fuck is wrong with you?", she hisses, dropping a hand over her racing heart. "It is too early and I am too hungover for your nonsense", she scowls at Lucas too, for good measure.
"Just chill, would you?", Harry says to them, pointedly, before chuckling awkwardly.
They're soon distracted as Lucas bursts, unable to contain his gossip that he thinks someone may have hooked up with Kendall.
Despite Ollie's howling protest, Harry raises an eyebrow and quirks his lips, as Eloise frowns in distaste.
"Well, that would be a bit weird...", she gestures between Harry, herself and her twin. "That's a few less degrees of separation than I think I'm comfortable with", she frowns.
"Wouldn't be the first time!", Lucas snorts; then clarifying at their confused faces, "Milly and James?".
"I never bloody slept with him!", Eloise whines. "And that would be indirect and entirely different anyway, you moron!", she huffs.
>
With desperately needed coffees brewed, Harry perches next to Ben and Mer on one balcony sofa, opposite Ollie and Lucas, with Anne on the arm chair at the end.
Gemma and Michal are still asleep downstairs, and Crispin and Elin are off somewhere catching up with friends for brunch.
Eloise steps gingerly up behind Mer to shimmy down behind them. Lying on her side, flush against the back cushions of the sofa, she plants her head in Harry's lap, facing his torso.
Groaning softly when he starts soothingly raking his fingers over her scalp, Lucas sniggers again. "Now who's being inappropriate?", he crows, nodding to little Ruby, babbling nonsensically in Mer's lap.
Eloise lazily flips him off over her shoulder then promptly falls asleep, so their frantically mouthed conversation goes over her head, quite literally.
💫 Please kindly vote and comment - any feedback and encouragement always appreciated!
A/N: Sorry, a slightly different chapter than I'd intended, but I had a lot of ground to cover and needed to sow some cues and clues...! But just brace yourselves for what's coming next - should be up by Monday!! Xx