Collectively Unconsciously Composed

The streets of Holmes Chapel were quite busy, despite it being 11 o’clock on a Tuesday night. Anne and Gemma had shown me around the village for the better part of the day. Gemma took me to her favorite shops and Anne shared fond memories of the quaint town. I enjoyed the trip and was glad to have spent the night at the house. The June heat wasn’t stifling; a small breeze helped to spread the hot air around.

We had just finished dinner at the local pub and were currently walking home. The pub was a few blocks down from the house so we decided to walk and enjoy the summer night. Unfortunately, clouds loomed overhead, blocking the moonlight and threatening to spill over. We walked quickly, hoping to evade the coming storm, but were instead greeted by warm summer rain.

“Come on girls, almost there,” Anne said reassuringly as Gemma and I jogged behind her.

Gemma stopped suddenly, my body slamming into hers as we groaned.

“Why are they out here now? They should be home and out of the rain,” she spat.

I peered around Anne and Gemma to see a small gathering outside of the house. Through the rain and dim moonlight, there appeared to be around ten girls perched on the lawn.

“I mean come on! They’re fucking ten of them, can’t we just call the police?” Gemma said in exasperation.

“Stop Gem,” Anne said quickly, “we’ve dealt with this before and we’ll do it again. Now come on, let’s get out of this rain and figure out what to do.”

Anne ushered us to the nearest house were we took shelter under the porch. Anne and Gemma talked in hushed tones as I stood quietly and waited for the rain to stop. It didn’t stop, and the girls still had not left. I knew the fans were dedicated but waiting out in the rain seemed like a little much.

“Scout?” Anne questioned.

“We think we’ve got a plan,” Gemma concluded as I bit my lip and nodded.

“The girls aren’t around back, but only in the front. We thought we could sneak past them somehow and get in through the back door.”

“Is the back door open?” I asked.

“Oh bloody hell, the key’s under the front mat,” Gemma groaned.

“Let’s just hope Harry’s home, alright?” Anne said quickly. “We’ll be fine girls, don’t worry.”

“Oh, I worry,” Gemma mumbled as she grabbed her mum’s hand and mine.

The rain had not ceased, but seemed to be coming down harder as we exited the safety of the porch. I felt the water seeping into my clothes as we walked down the road. My shoes were filled with water and I knew my makeup was running hardcore. I squeezed Gemma’s hand and kept walking, making sure the girls didn’t see us. Thanks to the low visibility of the rain, we made it to the house quickly.

“Now what?” Gemma whispered as we approached the house.

“Just keep quiet and walk towards the back,” Anne replied.

We kept our hands linked as we tiptoed to the back. Once we made it onto the porch, Anne rushed to the door, knocking to see if anyone was home.

“Fuck. He’s not home,” Gemma muttered as Anne walked back to us.

“We could always wait for him?” I suggested.

“He won’t be home for hours,” Gemma said quietly.

So we were back to square one. We sat in silence for a couple of minutes, mulling over our thoughts. The rain was beginning to let up, but a steady downfall was still here.

“I could go get the key?” I said after awhile.

“No, that’s out of the question,” Anne said before I could say anything else.

“It’ll be fine. The fans are always nice and who knows, they might be gone already,” I added quickly.

“I don’t know…” Gemma trailed off as Anne shook her head.

“It’s too dangerous,” she said, her motherly instincts taking over.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Just stay put and I’ll get the key.”

I stepped off the porch before Anne or Gemma could stop me. I discarded my shoes on my way to the lawn, the sandals falling apart from the water. I peeked around the side of the house and sighed in relief.

Several of the girls had left, leaving around five or so. I sucked in a breath and left the safety of the corner. The instant I was spotted, squeals erupted from the group. I plastered a smile on my face as I made my way over to the crowd. A flash went off as girls asked for pictures and for me to sign various items.

I pushed wet hair off my face as I posed for pictures in the rain and signed backpacks and shoes. The ink ran off the items but the girls paid no mind to it. Eventually, only two girls remained, both holding out pieces of paper for me to sign.

“Why’re you all wet?” one girl asked as I scribbled my name onto the paper.

“I walked home from town,” I said stiffly.

“Why’d you do that?” the other girl asked in confusion.

“I was spending the day with Mrs. Styles and Gemma.”

“No Harry?” girl number 1 asked as I shook my head.

“He’s out with his friends.”

“Oh well, thanks!” the girls grinned as they left the lawn.

As soon as they turned the corner I scrambled up the step and hurled the rug to the side. Sure enough, a small silver key was sitting on the concrete. I grabbed the key, but stopped when I saw a figure out of the corner of my eye.

Across the street, there was a figure standing underneath a light post. His hood was pulled up, due to the rain I thought, but he still made my skin crawl. He looked oddly familiar, like I had seen him before. I bit my lip and thought hard, my heart nearly stopping when I realized who it was; the man I saw outside of Harry’s back in London. The man raised his head, his eyes meeting mine from across the street. I took off in a run, practically sprinting back to the porch.

I put my hand to my chest as I sank down and tried to catch my breath. I stood up and fumbled with the doorknob, my hand shaking from nerves and cold.

“I found the-“

Anne and Gemma were nowhere to be found. I put my hand to my chest as I sank down and tried to catch my breath. I stood up and fumbled with the doorknob, my hand shaking from nerves and cold. My hand was on the knob when the door opened from the inside, Harry standing on the other side.

“What the fuck?” Harry asked, lifting a brow. His hair was dripping and a towel was slung low on his hips; he had just gotten out of the shower.

“Where are Gemma and Anne?” I asked, pushing past Harry to look around the house.

“They’re in the kitchen,” he said, slamming the door and locking it. “What happened?”

“We got locked out,” I said, sparing him the details so he wouldn’t worry.

“Hmph,” he grunted, clearly not believing what I said.

Before Harry could ask any questions, I heard someone squeal was wrapped up in someone’s arms.

“Oh god are you okay?” Gemma asked as she held me out at arms length. “You’re all wet,” she frowned, motioning to the pool of water at my feet from my soaking clothes.

“Let her change, and then we can ask her what happened,” Anne murmured, putting her hand on Gemma’s arm.

I slipped away from Gemma’s grasp and made my way upstairs, water trailing behind me the entire way. I nearly slipped on the wood floor in the hallway, but strong arms prevented me from crashing into the door frame of Harry’s room. I murmured a thank you as Harry released me and followed me into his room.

Once Harry shut the door I began to peel off my soaking clothes. Harry and I both got dressed quietly, the only sounds of my wet clothing and Harry’s towel dropping to the floor, and the sound of drawers opening and closing. I had just slipped a shirt over my head when Harry wrapped his arms around my middle and rested his head in the crook of my neck.

“Where were you?” he mumbled, his lips against my neck. I sucked in a breath as he nipped lightly at the skin.

“I- I was outside,” I stammered.

“I knew that,” he hummed against my skin. “Why were you outside?”

“We got locked out,” I said quietly. My voice quivered and I prayed Harry wouldn’t notice my shaking.

In an instant, Harry untangled his arms from me and walked across the room. He began to pace, something he did when he was annoyed.

“I wish you would just tell me the truth,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I am telling you the truth!” I shot back, my voice strained.

Okay so I wasn’t telling him the whole truth. We did get locked out, but I didn’t want him to know about a sketchy guy stalking me. Getting caught up with fans was just part of the job, and I was sure Gemma or Anne had already told him what happened with that.

“What about the girls outside, yeah? Were you just going to pretend that didn’t happen?” he questioned, his voice raising.

“It wasn’t important! You deal with fans all the time so why should this be any different?”

“What if you had gotten hurt?” he challenged. “I wouldn’t be there and you could’ve died.”

“Don’t be daft,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I was out on the fucking lawn, not the middle of nowhere.”

“Just promise me next time you need help, call,” he strained. I was too tired to deal with an argument right now, so I complied.

Downstairs, Anne, Gemma, and a warm cup of tea were waiting for me. I graciously accepted the steaming liquid and nearly burned my tongue as I sipped. Harry joined us moments later, scooting to my side and wrapping an arm around my shoulder. Guilt burned in the back of throat as I felt Harry’s arm tighten around me.

Gemma started into the story, sparing no details and using a lot of hand gestures to emphasize climatic points. After she was done, she declared she was knackered and was going to bed.

I felt my lids begin to droop and followed suit. I slipped my leggings off and climbed into bed. I shut my eyes and dozed off, my dreams filled with the man by the lamppost.