Liability

june 20, 2014.

I was a lot calmer about turning 22 than I thought I would be.

My last few months of being 21 were absolute shit, so I figured this new calendar year couldn’t be much worse in comparison to what my life had recently become. So when I awoke on Sam’s couch that I had taken up residence on for nearly the last week, I wasn’t anxious or disappointed about being a year older.

How goddamn mature of me.

It was Sam shuffling into the living room, a large suitcase scraping against the hardwood floor of her flat in tow behind her, that actually woke me up that morning. It was far from quiet as she dropped a rather large collection of bags in the living room near the door, offering my half-asleep mind a reminder that today was the day we were supposed to be going on our quick getaway to France. In a few hours we’d be boarding a train to Paris, surely meeting up with a large group of people that I had met briefly once or twice before, and getting forced into some crowded club to celebrate a milestone I didn’t even care about.

I meant to groan inwardly, but evidently my distaste for the events that were going to begin to unfold momentarily was too much for me to contain and my sigh of displeasure caught Sam’s attention.

“Soz, didn’t mean to wake the birthday girl!” She offered with a wicked grin. “Best be gettin’ up, we’ve got a train to go and catch!”

Considering Sam was technically my boss as she owned half of Bleach London, it was easy to get a couple days booked off to go away on my birthday vacation. It also meant I couldn’t come up with an excuse to excuse myself from the trip, and there was no way for me to get out of it now. Lou was already in Paris, having been on tour with the One Direction boys for the last few days throughout Europe. Gemma, Sam, and myself had scoured the Internet for some last minute EuroStar express train tickets to get us to France for the night. Gemma’s brother, one fifth of the brooding pop stars that made up One Direction, had left us all tickets to the night’s show in Paris. He had also mentioned booking out entire VIP sections of multiple clubs near the venue for us to choose from to go out and celebrate my birthday after the show.

It was all going to be political. Birthday’s always were. Just an excuse to get together and show off who has more friends, and who’s friends were more important. I was in for an evening of a juvenile popularity contest disguised as a birthday party. This was why I didn’t like birthdays. Why would I want to go to a club, I didn’t even drink?

Sam tossed a set of fresh clothes at me, the clothes she had insisted I lay out the night before so we would be able to get up and ready quicker in the morning, signalling it was time for me to get up and off the couch. I thanked her, before grabbing the clothes and shuffling down the small hallway into the bathroom in order to make myself look presentable.

It would only take us about 20 minutes to get from Sam’s East London flat in Dalston to King’s Cross Station to catch our train, but we knew Gemma was probably already there and waiting for us. She was incredibly punctual, even annoyingly so, and a quick glance at the timestamp on my phone informed me we had about 10 minutes before Gemma was going to start ringing in a desperate attempt to find out where we were.

A few unread texts waited for me in the inbox of my phone, but as my eyes scanned over the names of the senders I decided none of them were important enough to respond to immediately. I set my phone down on the bathroom counter so my hands were free to wash my face and change into the clothes I had brought in with me. A pair of black leggings, a plain white t-shirt and black booties from TopShop completed my travel outfit for the day. I opted against makeup as I was about to sit on a train for over two hours, sure to feel gross from the travelling I knew I would just shower as soon as we got to our hotel in Paris and I didn’t want to bother doing my makeup twice in one day. Returning to the living room, I found a pair of aviator sunglasses in my purse, popping them onto my face to hide the lack of makeup and sleep.

I had spent most of the previous night tossing and turning on Sam’s couch rather than actually sleeping. I shrugged it off as just being nerves over travelling, as I was really never one to do this sort of thing. I could count on one hand how many times I had been outside of the UK. The furthest from home I’d ever been was a trip to Spain I had taken with my mother when I has just entering year nine in school, and I briefly remember having a panic attack on the flight down there. I was about to be incredibly out of my element on this trip, knowing full well that Lou, Gemma, and Sam were all well seasoned travel veterans.

“I’m ready, Sam!” I called out to her as I unlocked my phone once more. My eyes lingered over each unread text message, silently hoping Jackson’s name would appear amongst them. But my search came up empty as my phone was free of any messages from him. I wasn’t even entirely sure why I was looking, and I also wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or relieved at the lack of contact from him.

“Right, right.” Sam called back out to me, appearing in the living room moments later. We were only going to be gone for less than 48 hours, but between the two of us we had enough luggage for an entire family of four to go on vacation for weeks. Maybe that’s why Sam and I got on so well, we were both over the top mad. “Should we call a cab or try and drag all of this crap on the tube with us?”

I took one look at the mountain of luggage that was piled before us and instantly let out a rather loud laugh. “I’ll call the cab now.” I managed to get out between my giggles. I exited out of the messages app on my phone, ending my search for a sign that Jackson wanted to reach out and talk to me, and dialled the number for a taxi to come pick us up instead.

*******

I had listened to Gemma’s brother’s band once or twice, but would hardly consider myself a fan. However, after watching the five lads run around the stage, working the crowd like perfect entertainers, I was having a bit of a change of heart about my whole feelings towards my birthday weekend. The tickets Harry had left all of us offered the perfect view of the stage, but were secluded enough from fans that we didn’t have to worry about anyone recognizing us and asking for autographs or photos.

Not that that was an issue for me, but more for Gemma and Lou’s sake. Sam and I were free to let loose and genuinely enjoy the show the boys put on for us all.

We had completely dressed to the nine’s, as you’re supposed to do for a girl’s night out. Once we had finally arrived in Paris, Lou had met us at the hotel and the four of us had spent far too long getting ready. The hotel had looked like a war zone when we were finished, the bathroom counter covered in every hair and makeup product you could imagine, and entire suitcases worth of clothes were dumped out onto the beds as we all swapped clothes to compose the perfect outfits. We were probably a bit too over the top for a concert, particularly a One Direction concert, but we blended in seamlessly with the stricter dress code of the nightclub Harry had gotten us into after the show. An entire upper balcony of the rather large club had been reserved under his name, free bottles of alcohol left for us on nearly every table or flat surface.

The band stayed behind at the venue for a bit to get themselves cleaned up before they were supposed to meet us there, so when Gemma, Lou, Sam, and myself arrived the VIP level was nearly empty with the rare exception of a few members of the One Direction road crew and security team. I didn’t know how many more people were going to show up tonight, but I hoped it would stay relatively sparse so we would have room to move around and dance freely.

“Happy birthday, Trix!” Gemma cheered for what must have been the hundredth time that evening as we entered our private area. We had an unobstructed view of the crowded dance floor downstairs, taking a second to peek over the railing of the balcony to observe the crowd below us.

I didn’t do crowds and I didn’t do alcohol. As long as we stayed up here away from the chaos I knew I’d be alright. If Harry did show up I’d have to thank him profusely for this. It was probably no problem at all for him to pull a few strings to arrange events like this given his celebrity status, but it was still a huge deal to me. Despite knowing Gemma for quite some time, I couldn’t remember a time when I had met her brother in person. He had a crazy schedule, constantly travelling around the world, so even though I had heard countless stories about him I had never been in the same room as him. He had done all of this and arranged a birthday party for a perfect stranger. Given how compassionate and polite Gemma was, I had to assume it was just the way that the two had been raised.

A multimillionaire pop star at 20 years old, he was still well mannered and grounded. I was sure Gemma would be the first one to give him a swift slap to the side of the head if he ever got too ahead of himself.

As the three girls poured themselves glasses of what I could only assume was bloody expensive champagne, Gemma handed me a champagne flute filled with tonic water. They were all well aware I avoided alcohol, and I was grateful they were never annoyed by this fact. I never preached to any of them about it, I knew it would be hypocritical if you took into consideration how much I had drank in college. I was no stranger to parties or tequila, until one day I just decided I had more fun without it. With the exception of the very rare glass of wine at a formal dinner, I opted for water or fizzy drinks over liquor. It seemed to everyone else as though I had just grown up and started focusing on my health and bettering myself, but if I was honest a lot of it had to do with the nasty comments Jackson would make to and about me whenever one of us had been drinking.

I felt my shoulders tense as I tried not to let my mind wander to those memories, determined to make the most of this night that I knew I would never experience again. Every relationship had its negative aspects, and that one was over so I needed to focus on something else.

I was completely out of my element as Lou was the first one to raise her glass in preparation for a toast. Her expensive wardrobe, no doubt a result of the substantial pay cheque One Direction provided her with, helped her blend in seamlessly with the atmosphere of the pretentious club. While my job at Bleach allowed me to afford rent at a rather large flat in a popular area of East London that didn’t come cheap, I was still rather thrifty when it came to clothing, always conscious of the price tag. I couldn’t afford to even set foot into the designer stores that had provided Lou’s entire outfit for the night.

But I was supposed to be enjoying my birthday, not overanalyzing my financial situation.

Lou had let me borrow a pair of her shoes for the evening, insisting they were the perfect match for my outfit. Black skinny jeans, a cropped grey tank top, and now a pair of black Jeffrey Campbell platform boots that no doubt cost at least the same as a months rent at my flat. I was doing a decent job of looking like I could afford to actually be at this club, but at the same time I was also conscious not to spill anything and avoid any puddles of sticky alcohol on the floor because there was no way I could afford to replace these boots.

“A toast to Trix!” Lou spoke up, practically shouting to be heard over the loud music. “Happy 22nd birthday, love!”

Gemma and Sam raised their glasses as well, all shouting cheers of congratulations similar to Lou’s. Before I could get out a thank you, a mess of brown curls was jogging towards us and hollering for us to wait. Even though I had never met him before, I instantly recognized him as Harry, his facial features remarkably similar to Gemma’s. There were definitely some strong genes in the Styles family.

“You’re toasting without me?!” He demanded, breath a little heavy as he had obviously ran to our private secluded section as quickly as possible. I silently wondered if it had been out of excitement to see us all, or just a privacy tactic to get away from paparazzi and prying eyes outside faster.

“You guys all took too long. We weren’t going to wait around forever for you lot to finally show up so we could start drinking.” Gemma spoke up in our defence, rolling her eyes at her younger brother. The remainder of the One Direction crew, as well as Harry’s other bandmates, began to file in now and our once nearly empty section was beginning to form a crowd.

“You wouldn’t even be here without me, the least you could have done was wait for me to toast the night!” Harry whined, earning another eye roll, but this time from Lou.

“Sorry, Haz.” She snickered, raising her glass once more to clink it against all of ours. She smirked at the scowl that formed on the boy’s face as he watched her gulp down the bubbly champagne.

As the three girls all refilled their glasses, Harry turned his focus to me. The scowl that had just been on his face had been replaced with a wide grin as he looked down at me. I was pretty short on my own, but these shoes Lou had lent me offered a few extra inches of height. I was in no way model height, but I was nearly tall enough to be eye level with Harry.

“Trixie, right?” He asked, extending his hand out for me to shake.

I nodded my head in agreement, taking his extended hand. It seemed like a rather formal gesture and I couldn’t help but feel a little bit uncomfortable as I watched over his shoulder to notice the three girls all separating. Gemma had begun a conversation with one of the rather large security guards One Direction had brought in with them, and Lou and Sam had begun making their way to the railing, probably brainstorming a plan of attack to take the dance floor below.

“I thought so. Heard a ton about you from Gem, but never been given a face to go with the name.”

“Oh, yeah.” I replied lamely, unsure of what else to say to him. “Thanks for all this.” I motioned with my hand that wasn’t holding my empty glass to the club around us. He had, after all, been the one who had put this all together for me.

“No problem! Happy birthday by the way.” He wasn’t looking at me anymore, as he searched around the room until his eyes fell on a tray full of vodka bottles and a variety of drink chasers right next to us. “Are you having a good time?”

“Yeah, it’s an experience alright.” I watched as Lou and Sam made their way down the stairs an anxious ball of nerves beginning to form in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want to just abruptly walk away from Harry, but I didn’t want to get left behind or lose the few people in this club that I was comfortable around. I kept my eyes on Gemma for a few seconds, silently praying she would stay up here until Harry was done and then we could head downstairs together to find Lou and Sam. There was safety and comfort in numbers.

“A good experience, I hope.” Harry chuckled in response, grabbing a glass from the table.

I was amazed, watching him pour more than a shots worth of vodka into the clear glass. I didn’t think a celebrity, especially one of Harry’s caliber, would have to mix their own drinks. At the same time, he did look like the kind of person who would resent his title of celebrity. He was dressed rather casually, so maybe he preferred to make his own drinks rather than have them handed to him (literally on a silver platter) because he still wanted to pretend he was like everyone else. He snatched up a can of RedBull to top off the rest of the glass before raising it to me in a toast. His look of excitement faltered for a second when he noticed my own glass was empty.

“Where’s your drink?”

“Oh, I don’t-“ I started, desperately searching for the least lame way to explain I wasn’t one to drink. He had arranged this entire night just for me, the last thing I wanted to do was appear ungrateful.

He was holding his own drink out to me in an instant, “Here, take this one. I’ll make another.”

I shook my head quickly. “No, but thank you. Not right now.”

He just nodded his head after a few seconds, deciding not to insist any further. His bubbly personality was back in an instant as he smiled at me before taking a rather large gulp of his mixed drink. I didn’t know how he could have so much energy still after watching him run and prance around that stage earlier that night, but something told me the RedBull in his glass probably had a lot to do with it. Lou and Gemma had both described how crazy his tour and promotions schedule was for the band, so I was sure his bloodstream was mostly concentrated energy drinks at this point. “Shall we all go dance then?” He asked, gesturing to the stairway down to the main dance floor Sam and Lou had disappeared down moments before.

When I nodded my head in agreement, he quickly downed the rest of his glass, carelessly placing it onto another empty tabletop and gestured for me to follow him. He expertly navigated his way around the leather couches and glass tables until we reached the stairs, allowing me to go down before him. I was nervous for a second about fans swarming when we stepped out onto the dance floor, but I quickly realized that everyone around us was far too drunk and focused on the music to even pay attention to the fact that Harry Styles was right next to them. His all black outfit, a pair of impossibly tight jeans and a loose t-shirt, helped him inconspicuously disappear into the crowd. He was just being a normal person for the night.

We found Lou and Sam with ease on one edge of the dance floor, the two of them appearing absolutely thrilled that I had decided to join them despite the crowd. I was still a little nervous as a result of the sheer volume of people that had been packed into this highbrow establishment, but I just really wanted to dance. Sam, Lou, and even Harry, were with me at the moment and there was safety in numbers.

*******

It had all started off great. I don’t remember a time I had laughed as hard as when a remix of a song I recognized as one by One Direction came on over the club’s speakers and Harry obnoxiously screamed along the lyrics as loud as he could. Girls around us paid absolutely no attention as they sang along as well, oblivious to the fact the very artist that had penned this song was dancing right next to them.

But it didn’t last.

Gemma eventually joined us on the dance floor with a few more members of the crew, Harry disappearing not long after. I was introduced to so many different members of their crew and touring staff I could barely keep up. The only name really sticking with me was that of a rather large security guard named Preston who kept getting me refills of tonic water every time the rest of the girls got themselves another drink.

I had worked up quite a sweat throughout the night of dancing, and despite having an amazing time I knew I needed a little bit of space for a second. There were more people here now and I was starting to get anxious. Drunk people didn’t respect personal space and I was tired of having strangers pressed up against me as we all fought for space on the crowded floor. I whispered to Gemma that I was going to go back upstairs for some water for a moment and not to worry before pushing my way out of the crowd. I didn’t think it to be possible for the crowd to have gotten even bigger, but as I reached the top of the stairs it was clear the main floor of the club had swelled in population.

A few familiar faces were scattered throughout the private level, but it was empty enough that I could take a seat on an empty couch and focus on my breathing for a second. As soon as I was off my feet they began to ache, signalling to me just how long we had been downstairs dancing. I had no sense of what time it was, but it had to be fairly late into the night, or early in the morning rather. I was sure that the night would be winding down soon and Gemma, Sam, and Lou would all be ready for us to head back to the hotel. I just had to get though the next little while and I would be out of here and it would all be fine.

I had been doing so well all night, but I had just reached my limit, and being up in the VIP section where I was offered a teaser of the quiet and free space I would be greeted with once I left was doing little to calm me down. It was just making me anxious, reminding me I was trapped in here until everyone else decided they wanted to leave. My location was out of my control and I didn’t like not having control.

I’m sure I could have told the girls I wanted to leave and they would all be understanding about it, it was my birthday after all. But I didn’t want to be a bother when they were having so much fun. I had been having fun too, I had just reached my limit. I was now torn between wanting someone to ask if I was okay and not wanting to be a burden.

My head kept low, my eyes focused firmly on the floor below these expensive shoes, I took in another deep breath to try and calm my growing nerves. My stomach hurt, my abdominal muscles cramping with anxiety. The urge to puke hit me rather suddenly, feeling the back of my throat begin to salivate involuntarily. I’m sure my eyes were watering too, no doubt smudging the rather heavy mascara and eyeliner I had put on earlier this evening.

I felt the couch shift under someone’s weight next to me, and a glass of clear liquid came into my line of vision as it was held out over my lap for me to take.

“I don’t drink.” My voice was quiet, and I wasn’t sure if the person sitting next to me had even heard over the loud music and commotion unfolding around us as they made no motion to move the drink away.

“It’s just water.” It was Harry’s voice, so I muttered a weak thank you as I took the glass. He went on to say something about Preston and my orders for water all night, but I wasn’t listening. I was too focused on my breathing as I took a sip from the glass. “You alright?” His voice was gentle when he spoke, an equally as gentle hand reaching out to rest on my back.

I nodded, unsure if I could really form any coherent sentences. I wasn’t alright, I was on the verge of a panic attack, but he didn’t need to know that. I was no stranger to them so I’m sure I could handle myself, but this was hardly the ideal environment. Not that there ever was an ideal place for a panic attack.

The water helped take away the feeling of needing to vomit, but I knew the only way I was going to avoid a full blown attack was if I got out of here soon.

“You don’t look alright.”

I was unsure if his words were spoken low and drawn out because he was choosing his words carefully or if this was just the way he always spoke. I was also unsure of where the energy came from as I finally found my voice. “I think I need to go home.”

I looked up for the first time, seeing him nod his head as he began to rub my back soothingly. With his other hand, he fetched an iPhone out of one of the pockets of his black skinny jeans. “I can have a car out back in two minutes.” He spoke as he typed away furiously on the phone.

“I need to go find Sam-“

He slipped the phone back into his pocket, adjusting his position on the couch to face me. “No, I can take you. I’m not sure where they’ve wandered off to, so I’ll have Preston round them up and they’ll meet us there.” He was still rubbing my back comfortingly as he spoke, his head ducked down so I could actually hear his voice. “Let’s get you out of here, yeah?”

Despite phrasing it as one, I knew it wasn’t a question. I just nodded my head, gulping down the rest of the water. Harry led us down a separate set of stairs from the ones that led into the heart of the club, instead bringing us to a series of dimly lit hallways. He kept his hand on my back the entire time, herding me towards a back door where even more large security guards were there waiting for us. He nodded at one of them as he opened the door and led us to a blacked out SUV that was waiting. It was all so quick as we were shoved inside and the car was instantly racing off from the club, flashes lighting up the sky outside the tinted windows signalling that there had been paparazzi waiting outside that were probably now following us. Desperate to get a shot of Harry, preferably of him drunk and stumbling out of a club or cab, it was a small reminder that as normal and calm the boy sitting next to me seemed, he was far from that. He seemed nice enough, but his entire life was a media spectacle.

In that moment I missed my bed. I was craving the security that crawling under my duvet offered me. My own bed, though, not the sofa Sam had been forcing me to sleep on for the last week.

The driver of the car, another heavy set security guard, spoke up to inform Harry they had to take a detour on the way back to the hotel in an effort to loose the trail of photographers that were following us. As grateful as I was for this, I just wanted to get out. I didn’t belong here.

I kept my eyes on the floor of the car, my skin crawling with nerves. I was out of place, and I felt like a fool that obviously didn’t belong in this world. I glanced between the bright gold boots on Harry’s feet, no doubt worth a small fortune, back to the borrowed ones on my own feet. I had been so proud of them earlier, feeling like they made me blend in and appear worthy to be spotted with this group of people. But I didn’t belong in this scene. I was a no name hair dresser struggling to make ends meet every month, I shouldn’t even be in the same room as Harry Styles, let alone escaping from a prestigious club back to an even pricier hotel with him. This was all too much.

I liked the boots he was wearing, the bright gold colour offering a stark contrast to the all black ensemble he was wearing. It was a simple pair of jeans and t-shirt, but they had to be from some designer label too. Lou talked all the time about how Harry was obsessed with Saint Laurent clothes, as she constantly blamed him for getting her addicted to the luxury fashion house too. I envied the way he effortlessly pulled off the boots. They appeared like the kind of thing that would look ridiculous on just about everyone, but he pulled them off flawlessly. He was the perfect combination of laid back and put together. He was so out my league. In fact Harry Styles was on an entirely different planet from me.

I leaned forward in the car, resting my elbows on my knees as I squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to silence these ridiculous thoughts. In an instant I heard Harry undo his seatbelt and slide across the seat until he was pressed up against me. One hand was on my back, the other resting on my arm in an attempt to comfort me. “This isn’t your scene at all, is it?”

I just shook my head no in response.

“Is it the large crowd that was making you anxious?”

A little part of me was surprised that he recognized my symptoms to be an anxiety attack rather than just assume I had drank far too much like I figured he would have. He was surprisingly more attentive than I thought he would be. For an international pop icon, he seemed to be pretty good at picking up subtle cues my body language unknowingly gave off.

“I’m not sure.” I answered honestly. “Just a combination of everything.”

Harry just nodded, and I felt his hand begin to rub small circles on my back. I tried to take deep breaths to soothe the anxiety that had built up inside the crowded club, but it wasn’t helping. “You’re alright. You’re alright now.” He repeated this mantra a few times as he continued to rub my back.

“Soz about this, Harry.” I mumbled, sitting up a little bit as he pulled me closer into his side. “It’s just one of those nights, I guess.”

“We all have ‘em,” he nodded. “You’re gonna be alright.”

Harry repeated these words to me a few more times in a whisper as he let me fully lean up against his chest in the backseat of the car. His deep voice, which had become rather raspy from a night of yelling over the loud music inside the club, was doing a decent job at calming me down. I wasn’t quite sure how to vocalize my gratitude and appreciation for all he had done for me this night. I finally opened my eyes again as I was breathing much easier now, but my entire body was still tense under Harry’s touch.

As much as I appreciated Harry going out of his way to make sure I was okay, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. For the last four years I had relied on Jackson to be my confidant and the one who would make sure I made it home okay after a long night out. But now he didn’t even care enough to wish me a happy birthday or check in that I was okay. He should have noticed my apartment had been empty and unvisited by now, unless he had finally stopped coming by.

I was over him and I didn’t want to be with him anymore, but I didn’t like the idea of not having someone there to want me. He wasn’t allowed to get over me and sweep four years of our lives under the rug that quickly. He should have reached out and checked in to see how I was. He should have been worried that I nearly had a panic attack alone in a Paris nightclub. He should have been jealous that Harry Styles was taking me back to his hotel in his private car. He should have been furious that Harry was being the perfect gentleman towards me tonight despite not even knowing me.

Jackson had never been anything close to the perfect gentleman for as long as I had known him. He would have never gone above and beyond like Harry had done tonight.

I was torn between the conclusion that Harry was just being over the top because he could afford to be, or if this was the way he always was. Was this the way a man was supposed to treat you? Four years with Jackson had completely distorted my vision on what was and was not okay for a person to do to you.

“The paparazzi seem to be gone.” Harry noted out loud, as I noticed that the buildings we were now driving past seemed familiar. We must have been approaching the hotel now. “Let’s get you inside quick then before they show up. Gem said they’d all be here soon.” He briefed me as we pulled up to the hotel.

It was another blur of quick actions as we were ushered out of the car by more security guards and brought into the lobby of the hotel. There were no camera flashes, but in my disoriented state I could still make out the screams of a few teenage girls in the background, meaning there were definitely fans camped outside the hotel waiting to catch a glimpse of one of the boys. We were brought into the hotel separately, probably to not risk Harry being photographed bringing an unknown girl back to his hotel. It occurred to me that this was probably all routine for them. I felt out of my element, but this was a carefully practiced dance that they performed nearly every day. This was all old news.

Only one security guard got into the elevator with us when Harry and I were reunited once more, his hand finding it’s way to rest on my lower back once again as he watched the floor numbers increase as the elevator climbed upwards. We were all staying on the same floor, as One Direction had rented it out in its entirety.

We were quiet once more as he walked me all the way to the door of the room Gemma, Sam, and I were sharing. Lou had her own room that she was sharing with her young daughter, Lux, and her boyfriend who had stayed in to watch Lux for the night. Harry watched as I placed the key card into the door and unlocked the room with ease. “Thanks for all this, Harry.” I spoke, pausing in the doorway facing him.

“Don’t worry about it. Are you sure you’re alright?” The tone in which he spoke sounded as if he was genuinely concerned, and I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of that. It was a complete turn around from how I had been feeling not even an hour earlier.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“Ok.” He nodded slowly, raising his hand to scratch nervously at the back of his neck. “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to give me a shout. Or at the very least, let Jay over there know.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to motion to the security guard who had come up with us, and was now positioned next to the elevator. It amazed me how there seemed to be so many members of One Direction’s crew, yet Harry had taken the time to learn the names of every single one of them.

“I will, thank you.”

He let out a rather shaky breath before nodding his head. “Alright, goodnight Trix.”

“Goodnight Harry.” I replied, just before he took a small step forward to close the gap in-between us. He placed a quick kiss on my forehead before retreating back to his own hotel room before I could manage to choke out any more words.