Like Clouds Cross Skies

I open the door of the flat to find Nick sat on the sofa, the Wii steering wheel in his hands and his brow furrowed in absolute concentration.

But despite that, he's still able to say, “How did your date go?”

I roll my eyes. He keeps his firmly locked on the TV. “It wasn't a date.”

He just lets out a bark of laughter in answer.

I dump my keys on the kitchen worktop, running a hand through the tangles in my windswept hair. And I think, that could have been the last time I see Harry. I don't know how that makes me feel exactly. I feel something, there's an emotion roiling there in my gut, but I can't place it. It's not relief, as it might have been earlier this week. Maybe it's a little sad, but I don't know. Maybe I'm just sad to see one of the few people who's been kind to me these past few months slip from my life.

Lianne appears across the kitchen island from me, an eyebrow and one corner of her mouth raised. “You were gone a while.”

I roll my eyes at her too. “We went and sat in the park.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Maybe I'll tell you when you stop looking at me like that.”

She holds the smirk for a few seconds longer before letting it morph into a less suggestive smile. “So...” she says, dragging out the word.

I shrug. “We talked about stuff.”

Her smile drops, an eyebrow gets raised again. “Would you care to tell me what 'stuff' exactly?”

I sigh. Seems Lianne has contracted the questioning bug as well. “University, me moving to London, our home towns, my birthday. Nothing too interesting.”

And then I think, should I tell her? Lianne is my best friend; I've always told her anything and everything. But with this she might kick off.

She smirks again. “Come on, Kailey, I know you. What are you holding back? Hmm?” She waggles a finger at me.

“They snogged!” Nick yells from the sofa, still looking at the TV screen, but he's grinning to himself.

“Shut up, Nicholas!” I shout over my shoulder at him. When I look back at Lianne, she's still smiling. She thinks I'm going to say Harry and I have a date, or we flirted, or whatever. But it's not that at all.

I scratch at a mark on the counter top. “He noticed the scar on my forehead.”

I glance at Lianne through my lashes, and I see her smile slip from her face. “Go on,” she presses.

It's only a little scar; thin, jagged and a shimmery white. My fringe usually covers it. Small scar, big connotations. “He asked me about it. I told him I got it in a car accident.”

“You told him the truth?” Lianne asks. “You told him Aaron was the one who crashed the car?”

I shake my head, keep rubbing at the mark on the counter top. “I wasn't about to give him another reason to dislike Aaron. The whole thing is already awkward enough as it is.”

Lianne pauses before she answers. “So who did you tell him was driving the car?”

“Sarah.”

I look up at Lianne to see her frowning at me still, but this time it's in confusion. “We don't know a Sarah.”

“No shit Sherlock,” I say. “I just made up a name. Didn't want him digging any deeper into the story.”

Lianne's expression lightens. She looks so effortlessly pretty with her dark blonde hair tied in a top knot, her skin glowing with a healthy tan. If I could trade places with Lianne for a day then I would. A well-paid, interesting job, thick hair and flawless skin, all the boys tripping over their own feet to get to her. But Lianne has had her fair share of problems. Messy break-ups, cheating boyfriends, and losing her mum when she was eight. I'm not the only one with problems, yet through it all Lianne has been here for me. I'd be lost without her.

“Enough about that,” she says, slapping her hands on the counter top, “all that is old news. You have other things to look forward to.”

“Like what?” I ask.

“Well,” she begins, her smile returning, “Alan Carr tonight, for example.” I raise an eyebrow, and she continues, “I have a press pass, and I'm allowed to bring a guest. Guess who that is.”

“Me?” A smile of my own begins to grow.

“Ten points for Gryffindor!” she shouts. “So pick an outfit, because you and me have places to be and people to see.”

I laugh at her, still mad as ever.

Maybe Harry won't be gone from my life just yet.

* * *

I can't quite believe I'm staring at the studio set for Alan Carr Chatty Man. You see all these things on TV, these lavish sets, and it almost seems like they aren't real. But then you end up in the audience for one and, hey presto, it actually exists. It's smaller than I expected, but I don't care. I find myself fidgeting with nervous excitement. This is live television. I'm going to be in the audience for live TV.

Lianne is sat beside me in a fake fur coat that I'm actually pretty jealous of. She looks like she should be on Made In Chelsea. The amount of times we've debated going to Chelsea in the hopes of bumping into one of the reality TV cast is kind of ridiculous.

“Has it hit you yet that we're gonna be seeing celebrities in the flesh? Like just metres away?” I say to her.

She laughs loud, throwing me a knowing look. “Kail, you've been hanging out with one of them for the past week. You had breakfast with one of them this morning. With Harry Styles, to be precise.”

A couple of girls in the row in front glance over their shoulders at us. They share a look before giggling and leaning closer to talk. I feel myself blush, and I quickly look away from them. “Jesus, Lianne, not so loud. You've been hanging out with him more than me, anyway.”

“I've been hanging out with him for work, Kailey. What have you been hanging out with him for?” Her sly smile makes me pause. She's got me there.

“I've been forced into his presence because of you, thank you very much,” I retort.

She laughs again. “You didn't need much forcing this morning.”

I slap her arm, but she only laughs harder at my sulky expression. She's right, and the thought of it brings an unwanted smile to my lips. What am I even doing? It was purely innocent, his way of saying sorry. That's it.

There's a lot of crew bustling about on the set, and it isn't long before the show looks like it's about to start. God, I love chat shows.

On cue, as Alan Carr appears on the stairs and takes centre stage, we all cheer and clap, and that nervous excitement still thrums in my chest. He opens the show with jokes, and when he comes to list who's on the show and gets around to saying “One Direction”, the audience erupts into the loudest scream yet. The two girls sat in front of Lianne and I are practically deafening.

As Alan chats to his initial three guests in turn, the nervous excitement fails to leave me. In the days I've known Harry, I haven't seen him play the part of Harry Styles, one fifth of One Direction, nor have I seen him handle the limelight. And I wonder, will Harry be different?

The ad break before Alan speaks to his final guests is almost excruciating. The audience chats among themselves, and Lianne looks at me, grinning. “I'm kind of excited,” she says, fidgeting in her seat.

“I am a bit too, actually,” I say.

She nudges me, about to say something else, when the cue is given that the ad break is about to end. Alan takes his position in his chair, and a sense of anticipation buzzes in the air, almost electric. The two girls in front of us exchange looks and squeal.

“Hello, hello, welcome back!” Alan calls as we start clapping and cheering again. “For my last guests tonight, it'll be their third time on Chatty Man.” Everyone screams. “I know! They just can't get enough of me! Can't blame them, really. Anyway, without further ado, it's the fabulous One Direction!”

The audience erupts, and the five boys come into view, rounding the corner of the staircase. They're all dressed in what Lianne would describe as 'smart-casual'; blazers and jeans. And then that head of brown curls appears on the stairs.

Alan rushes from his chair and greets them at the bottom of the stairs with hugs and enthusiastic “hello's”. The cheering finally dies down when the five boys are crammed onto the sofa that could probably do with being a few inches longer.

“Would you like some drinks?” Alan says to them when he's sat in his seat opposite. He opens the metal globe beside his seat. “We have... a lovely bottle of cheap wine, some bleach... well, you never know how an interview's gonna go, might need to chug this halfway through. And we have some WKDs, that's more up your street boys, isn't it?”

Alan dishes out the drinks and the interview begins. It's mostly Alan taking the piss out of them as usual, and I don't think I've laughed so hard in a while. The five of them crammed onto that sofa, doubled over with laughter, is nice to see. I don't know, I suppose I had it in my head that they'd be a little up themselves. But they don't seem like that at all, and it's a pleasant surprise. I guess I'd had all week to work out that Harry wasn't how I'd expected him to be.

Halfway through the interview, Alan begins, “Now Harry.”

“Yes?” he answers, his smile a little apprehensive. You never know what Alan's going to say, and the previous times Alan has always poked fun at Harry.

“You're the only one who doesn't have a girlfriend,” Alan says. Screams sound from the girls in the audience, including those two in front of me.

Harry glances bashfully at the audience, and it's endearing. I almost hate myself for admitting it, when I realise it's not a sin to make that observation. That's all it is. An observation.

“Is it because you're in love with Nick Grimshaw?” Alan says matter-of-factly, and everyone laughs, including Harry.

Just as the laughter is dying down, Lianne says to me, “If he isn't with Nick Grimshaw then I'll gladly have me a piece of that gangly arse.”

I burst out laughing, but quickly clamp a hand over my mouth. It was a lot louder than I expected, not to mention the audience had pretty much quietened down by then. People glance my way, including Alan Carr and all five of One Direction.

I sink further into my seat, hoping if I slide far enough down it then it'll be like I was never even sat there. But it doesn't help that Lianne is sat sniggering beside me.

My whole body feels hot with embarrassment as Alan, a wide smile on his face, calls, “Alright, calm down, love.”

Four of the boys turn back to Alan, but Harry keeps looking a little longer. He catches my gaze, and his smirk grows. If Lianne hadn't told him I was coming tonight, he definitely knows I'm here now.

Lianne leans across and whispers, “Eye contact.”

I swat her away.

“In all seriousness though, Harry, do you have your eye on anyone at the moment?” Alan says, and he leans suggestively towards Harry, batting his eyelashes.

Harry can only laugh and get out a hesitant, “Urm.”

“We're waiting,” Alan says, grinning at him.

Louis elbows Harry, and they exchange a glance. Finally, with Alan on the verge of falling off his chair, Harry says, “I might do.”

Alan gasps, a hand going to his heart. “Who is it? Do tell?”

Harry shrugs awkwardly. “Early days yet,” is all he says.

Alan stops feigning flirtation and says, “But really, Harry, do you actually have your eye on someone?”

Harry's lips are pressed into a thin, embarrassed smile. “I might.”

“Ooh!” Alan calls out, and the audience joins in. Lianne elbows me and waggles her eyebrows, but I ignore her. She's just taking the piss, trying to embarrass me as per usual. She probably knows exactly who Harry has his eye on, and all will be revealed in her feature.

It's not long till the show breaks for adverts, and the boys and Alan remain on the set. A few girls shout things at them, and the boys acknowledge them with a laugh and a wave before the crew get in the way of any more interaction.

“You do realise we just embarrassed ourselves on live TV,” Lianne says to me, grinning like an idiot.

“Thank God the camera didn't pan to the audience,” I say. I think I might have just lay out of sight on the floor if that had happened. “At least you weren't the one who laughed ten times louder than she was meant to.”

Lianne giggles. “Sorry, that was my fault.”

“You will-” I begin to say when Lianne suddenly elbows me viciously in the ribs. “Lianne!” I exclaim, but she's not even looking at me, she's grinning and waving at someone else, someone in the direction of the stage.

I look to see Harry waving back at Lianne, his dimples visible even from here. Almost imperceptibly, his eyes change focus from Lianne to me, but I see it. I wave back rather sheepishly, because the sight of Harry interacting with someone in the audience automatically makes everyone in front of us turn around. I drop my hand. I can't deal with everyone looking again.

Lianne tries mouthing something at Harry, but even I can't understand what she's attempting to say. Harry frowns at her and mouths, “What?”

Lianne rolls her eyes like he's dense, and tries actions this time. She makes the letter C with her hand, points at Harry, and then gestures in the general direction of backstage. “See you backstage.”

Harry nods and gives her a thumbs up before he acknowledges something Louis says. The two girls in front of us don't turn away from Lianne quite so soon.

Lianne nudges me to get my attention. “Stop staring at Harry.”

I glare at her. “I wasn't.”

“You were.”

“I happened to be looking at him one second after he finished communicating with you, that's hardly staring.”

“Staring,” she says. “Anyway, you're coming backstage after.”

“Am I?”

“Yep,” she answers just as the lights over the audience dim. She throws another elbow to my gut. “Show is back on. No insane laughing this time.”

I sigh. There's no winning with Lianne.

Another fifteen minutes of laughter and the show draws to a close. I'm a little sad it's over. Despite thoroughly embarrassing myself, this has been the most fun I've had in a while.

And the fun doesn't stop there.

When One Direction and Alan have disappeared backstage, and the audience begins to filter out, one of the crew members appears beside us.

“Do you have your press pass?” he asks Lianne, and she shows it to him.

He hands it back to her and says, “Okay, follow me please.”

“She's with me,” Lianne says, pointing at me.

The man glances my way. “Alright, that's fine.”

Lianne follows the man first, flashing me an excitable grin. We're led down the steps instead of up, and taken to a side door. Backstage is a maze of winding, grey corridors lit with phosphorescent lamps. I don't think they'd have to worry about fans getting back here; they'd be lost within seconds.

Lianne sees Harry before I do, and she calls his name. As our guide moves out of the way, I see not just Harry but the rest of One Direction loitering in the corridor ahead. They look our way at the sound of a name being called, and when Harry sees us his face breaks into a grin.

“Enjoy the show?” he asks as Lianne pulls him into a hug, visibly squeezing him like he's her favourite cuddly.

“Yes thank you,” Lianne says, her voice as chirpy as ever.

“You certainly did,” Harry says, nodding at me with that same old smirk on his face. And he says it just as he's moving closer, his arms loosely outstretched, and I realise he's moving in for a hug. I try and hide the surprise from my face as I lift my arms to wrap around his neck, his slipping around my waist. He smells faintly of aftershave, and he's radiating heat.

The hug is over in a matter of seconds, and I feel like slapping myself to get a grip. It was a hug, that was it. It would have been awkward not to hug me after hugging my best friend. That is it. Lianne has got me trying to read into things when I really shouldn't. I might not be a huggy person, but what does it matter? It was only a hug.

Seriously, get a grip, Kailey. You're becoming something you're not.

“What do you mean by that?” I say in answer to Harry, and he grins at me.

“I think the whole of the northern hemisphere heard you when you laughed,” he says, and I cringe. This is something I'm never going to live down.

“That was Lianne's fault,” I tell him.

“And how was it your fault?” he says, turning to her, his eyebrows pulled together but a smile on his lips.

Lianne shrugs. “I was just being my usual witty self.”

I roll my eyes at her, and she elbows me for about the millionth time this night.

“Are you gonna introduce us or what?” Louis pipes up.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry says. He goes through the introductions with mock formality, pointing to everyone in turn. “Lads, this is Lianne, who's been stalking me for the past week, and this is her friend Kailey. Lianne, Kailey, these are my bandmates Louis, Niall, Zayn and Liam.”

We all says our hello's, and Lianne gets pulled into a conversation about the features she'll be writing on each of them. When she's finished explaining, Louis claps his hands together and says, “On that note, let's head out.”

“Clubbing?” Lianne asks, her eyes lighting up.

Here we go.

“Wanna join us?” Niall asks those fatal words of Lianne. “The five of us haven't been out together in a while.”

I know the answer before she says it. “Of course,” she says, and immediately she turns to me. “You're coming too.”

“I think I've embarrassed myself enough for tonight,” I say, but that only warrants a stern look from Lianne.

“Nope, you're coming out, end of.”

“I second that,” Harry says. He catches my eye, the colour of his an almost sea-green in this lighting.

Can I really back out now? I can't be that friend who always cancels. A night out won't hurt, will it? As long as I don't get absolutely hammered, I can see this day out with a shred of dignity. “Fine, I'll come. Just don't make me do vodka shots.”

“Deal,” Lianne says with a grin.

As we head down the corridor, Harry falls into step beside me. I can still smell his aftershave. “First drink is on me.”

“You don't owe me any more, Harry,” I tell him.

He shrugs. “Who says I need to owe you a drink to be able to buy you one?”

I roll my eyes at him, but I can't stop myself from smiling. “Alright then, just one, but no more.”

He leans a little closer as he says, “If you say so.”