#european bus tours

[european-tour-operator]

Route: Leon - Ponferrada - Las Medulas - Villafranca Del Bierzo - Leon Duration: 9 h The first stop of our tour will be at Ponferrada which has two well-differentiated parts, the historic centre, where the monuments are concentrated, and the new city, where the services and shops are

[officerdougeiffel]

Heyyy tell us how was käärijä

hi hello it was so insanely good. like my first proper concert experience in this stereotypical way of travelling and queueing and such but it was so so good

got first row centre it was such a wonderful view like genuinely mesmerising. it felt so surreal. but so wonderful. I have lots of footage I need to clean up but I can post some some day soon. picture for view reference

after the show I also got to meet haarija and jukka and later jere too and they were all so sweet and so lovely to talk to and just gave incredible hugs like jukka hugs I think are. the best thinf in this universe nothing beats that.

I also asked haarija and jukka to sign my mixtape too and jukka was so so surprised at it. "MY signature? really? okay! :D" like. he's so sweet. I have ewe a bracelet for him before he had come out so I hope he gets that too :D

I got pictures with haarija and jukka too but not with jere because he was super tired and we only caught him for a sec as they were leaving to the bus. but he was so lovely and sweet and chatty and said he loves that his shows bring joy and that its worth being exhausted for that. I hope he rests well when he can but god this man <3

[clovermoonspell]

Such a silly goose

[musicalislife]

Tour bus 🚌

Video from Bojan’s instagram story 2023.07.18.

[trainsinanime]

I wonder: Do Americans know about american school buses? Not their existence in general, but how they're seen overseas.

Over here, they're one of the symbols of America, on par with the Statue of Liberty, the flag, the Eagle, and well ahead of any chain restaurant you can name. People won't know any US states, but they will know these vehicles.

The thing is, here in Germany, we don't have dedicated school buses. The general idea is that kids go to school on their own. When that's not practical, they're expected to use (and given free tickets for) public transit. Public transit is designed around this requirement; there are many places where there is a bus, and anyone can get on it, but the route and timetable really only makes sense for school children. In case a dedicated school bus is really needed, that's generally subcontracted out, and the lines either use something like a Sprinter Van for smaller routes, or a normal city or interurban bus (often a used one that's a bit older). School trips are normal public transit, or a rented bus, typically a coach or regional bus.

It's not a perfect system, in the past couple of years there's been an epidemic of people bringing their kids to school in their cars instead of letting them walk, which is less than ideal. It is what it is. But building a dedicated network of public transit lines only for students, and building dedicated vehicles only for that, has never occurred to anyone here.

Of course we know about these buses, from movies and such, but they're as foreign here as cacti or pick-up trucks (actually we're seeing more and more of these here) or yellow cabs (all europeans will assume all cabs in the US are yellow until they actually visit).

You do see these buses here at times, because people still generally like the idea of the US, even if they have a lot of issues with a lot of details, and so folks bring them over, along with stretch limos and stuff (also not really a thing here). And of course, if someone goes to all that trouble, they don't do it to haul school kids, they rent it out for city tours or as a party bus or whatever.

So you see these yellow things as a symbol of faraway places, scenic vistas, some vague undefined idea of freedom that doesn't necessarily hold up to any contact with reality, and it's just a huge part of the whole US aesthetic.

And then you go to a student exchange with the US, and you finally get the chance: You yourself get to ride in one of these iconic chrome yellow buses! It looks just like in the movies! You get in, you drive in them a little…

…and you realise they're shit. Just the worst buses in the western world. Terrible suspension. Uncomfortable seats with weirdly high backs (so they don't have to put seatbelts in, they just restrict how far kids can fly in an accident). Everything made out of the cheapest materials. Turns out the reason why the US uses school buses like that instead of normal modern city buses, which the US has, is to save money and because they just hate kids.

And then it hits you why US Americans say "as American as apple pie", a dish that is made and enjoyed literally anywhere in the world, instead of "as American as yellow school buses". Of course the Americans already knew all this. They got tortured by these things forever. It would never occur to them to see this as a symbol of America, it's just a normal part of life for them. It's a symbol of school and school life and sometimes normalcy, and tells us that these actors getting out of it are supposed to be teenagers, nothing more.

But most people in Europe have, of course, never ridden on these buses. So when they see them in movies and TV, that's a giant big yellow signifier that we're not in Hessen or Wallonia or wherever anymore. A symbol of a different world, one that may be at most a once-in-a-lifetime-experience for most people, just like a picture of a tropical beach, Mayan Pyramids, the Great Wall of China, or Hildesheim (there's no reason to go there twice). And I think Americans don't know that, and that's fascinating.

[sso-maev]

PUTTING JORVIK ON THE MAP: SIZE AND LOCATION

WHERE IS JORVIK?

Finding Jorvik’s exact location is actually pretty easy.

”Jorvik, located somewhere between Norway, Iceland, and the British Isles, of which it was once part, is a nexus of worlds.” - Jorvik Calling, Prologue.

This is still a pretty large area, but one that’s significantly narrowed down by reading Four Stories from Jorvik. Anne’s segment Midnight Sun establishes that Jorvik is at the very least partly above the arctic circle, to the point where Anne can see it while riding by Jorvik Stables in the middle of the night. This also puts Jorvik pretty close to the tectonic rift between the European and American continental plates, which handily explains why Jorvik is a volcanic Island.

HOW BIG IS JORVIK?

Jorvik’s size requires a bit more speculation, and I’m relying on two book sources.

1: Jorvik stables is a bus trip from Jorvik city.

Anne lives in Jorvik City but goes to school with the other soul riders in Jarlaheim, and has her horse at Jorvik stables. We know that she goes there by bus, so the distance between Jarlaheim and Jorvik City shouldn’t be too large; I’m capping the max length of the bus ride to about an hour.

2: Valedale is less than a day’s ride from the wineyard.

In The Legend Awakens, Elizabeth and the soul riders are heading to Pi’s Swamp and sleep over at the Wineyard. The soul riders wake up late and leave after having eaten breakfast and lunch. The sun is ”at its highest point in the sky” when they leave, so probably around 1-2PM. It’s twilight when they arrive, and the Baroness comments that they showed up in time for the evening feeding of the horses. Since the days are shorter in late October/early November, which is when this chapter takes place, we can guess that they arrived at around 5-6 PM.

Mapping out the most likely routes for these two trips, the route to the Wineyard is about a third of the bus route from Jorvik City to Jarlaheim. Additionally, the bus would drive on average ~70 km/h because of Jorvik’s smaller roads. The average walking speed of a horse is 6 km/h.

Now, the Valedale-Wineyard trip could take anywhere between 3-5 hours, but I’m inclined to believe that it’s on the lower end of that scale to keep Anne’s commute as short as possible. That leaves us with a 18 km long ride, and a 54 km long bus tour that takes 46 minutes. Pretty reasonable!

RESULTS

With these new measurements, we can figure out the actual distance between different places on Jorvik. Most importantly, we can measure the absolute width from Jorviks westernmost to easternmost point: 92 km, or ~57 miles!

Having figured out an estimate of the island’s size and location, we can now put Jorvik on the map!

[realphan]

some highlights from the TIT european leg:

- the silence after the tour bus confirmation in antwerp

- antwerp having a banana in a dress instead of a doll for ariana grande

- schrodinger’s december anniversary

- discovery of the golden pig card

- one of the boxing gloves being stolen

- ‘eat my fucking cum’ 😳

- them taking a picture with the cardboard cutout of gerard way for ‘the thing on thing day’

- philslion denial

- dan pushing phil up the hill

- zoo date

[terribleinfluence-tour]

Let’s address the situation

Recently an anonymous reddit/twitter user has accused me of being a stalker of dan and phil because of the way this blog is run.

So, let’s talk about it.

Let’s start with the absolute facts: I have never posted anything to this blog that wasn’t public information.

1. I have never doxxed the location of the tour bus.

Things i have posted about the tour bus: a photo from a crew member where the bus company was visible, a story that Kelly posted that was location tagged to a road in the middle of nowhere showing that dan and phil weren’t in vegas on oct 19.

Reasons why I don’t believe this to be wrong: Any of you who have waited at stage door can see the company is written on the bus, it is not confidential information, knowing the bus companies name does not give you any personal information about dan and phil. As for the location tag, it was in the middle of nowhere, they were already in their next location when it was posted, I was not the first person to post this story, i only posted it cos It was already all over twitter. (however this is the only story i’ve posted that i will gladly take criticism for despite my justifications)

2. I have only posted stories from 2 crew members: Kelly and Sarah. These are public instagram accounts. I only post their stories that are related to the tour itself. I am not the only person and I was not the first person to post these stories anywhere. I have never posted anything from any crew who have private accounts because 1) i can’t see that content cos I obviously do not follow those accounts and 2) i don’t post private information, it’s private for a reason.

I did not seek out the crew accounts, i didn’t not look for them myself, i only knew what they were because multiple people had already been posting the stories from the accounts way before me on both twitter and tumblr. Both these people know phannies follow them on instagram, they’re not going to post anything with information they don’t want you to know.

Despite my justifications, from now on I will be cropping out the usernames of these crew members who do share stuff publicly and in captions i will only be referring to them as crew.

3. Audio Recordings.

First disclaimer: I have never encouraged video recording of the show! I think that it’s distracting to dan and phil and i really think you should be living in the moment when you see this show. There is a reason we have never posted videos of the show on this blog even in our spoiler tag. I believe audio recording to be more harmless because you can just put your phone out of the way and it’s distracting no one at all.

The concept of sharing audio recordings of the show were not my idea, this started on the european leg of the tour by people on twitter, If you look back at the recordings i have posted you’ll see that all the europe audios (apart from antwerp) do not link to our google drive. I did decide to carry this on during the American leg.

I have never forced anyone to do this, I have only approached 1 person directly to see if they could record. The rest were all volunteers who saw my posts asking if anyone would do it and they all came to me on their own accord.

I very much understand the criticism on audio recording shows, however I want to look at this from not only a preservation effort but also as a way to make this show accessible to people who might for whatever reason not be able to attend as well as it being a way for you to go and listen to the show you attend again if you wanted to.

This being said I am no longer going to ask for specific shows and instead say that if you just happen to audio record a show and would be willing to let me post it then you can message me (@danrifics ) and i will post it. (this goes for the australian leg and the UK leg too) I will also at the end of the tour make a post with what’s missing and we’ll see if anyone recorded or not.

Finally I want to thank everyone for their continued support of the blog and its archiving efforts and I hope you all stick with me while we change things a little bit and I look forward to continuing to share content with you all and I can’t wait to reveal a few blog pages we’ve been working on!

- Bethanie

[swearphil]

THE PAIRING BY CASEY MCQUISTON ▶ AUGUST 6, 2024

Theo and Kit have been a lot of things: childhood best friends, crushes, lovers, and now estranged exes. After a brutal breakup on a flight to their dream European food and wine tour, they exited each other's lives... All that remains is the unused voucher for the European tour that never happened. Four years later, it seems like a great idea to finally take the trip. Solo. Separately. It's not until Theo and Kit board the tour bus that they discover they've both accidentally had the exact same idea, and now they're trapped with each other for three weeks. It's fine. There's nothing left between them. So, when Theo suggests a friendly wager to see who can sleep with their hot Italian tour guide first, Kit is game. And why stop there? Why not a full-on European hookup competition? But sometimes a taste of everything only makes you crave what you can't have. ☆☆

[skellyflowers]

Tour Bus Cuddles

Masterlist

Phantom x reader 

The European leg of the tour has been going fantastic so far. I was excited to be on the road and get the opportunity to travel around. However no one mentioned how hard being a Tour Manager Assistant would be! 

When Phantom dragged me into Brother Kevin’s office to nominate me as the new assistant I thought he was being a clingy boyfriend. He told me that he would miss me. I would miss him too. I was going to work on a schedule for us to still be able to still talk while he was gone. I wasn't expecting this. When Phantom first mentioned Kevin needing an assistant it was during our pillow talk so I didn’t take him too seriously.

I was surprised that Kevin made me his new tour assistant, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was because of how hard headed Phantom is. Kevin has me in charge of checking in the band at any hotel we stay at, ensuring the Green room has what the ghouls need and running last minute errands. 

However this show is in the biggest arena so far. So I have to cover way more ground than before helping the ghouls and completing my pre-show checklist. And to make things more complex two of the main stage speakers have been damaged. Lucky us the crew as backup speakers, they are not as loud but they are just as good. Unfortunately for me that means I need to help load the new speakers off the crew truck and bring them half a mile from the parking lot to the arena. 

When it is time for a sound check I can’t feel my arms and can barely pay attention to what the merch team is telling me. It doesn’t help that Phantom likes to keep me up after shows and work out his leftover adrenaline. I love him and we always have a great time together but it is going to be hard to do my job if I can’t feel both my arms and legs.

I’m in the Green room sitting on the couch when the ghouls come back after they finish the sound check. Phantom closes in on me and sits in my lap like a little cat. He starts to purr like one too. I smile at his actions and start to scratch at one of his horns, he starts to purr even louder.

“I missed you babe.” Phantom says.

“It’s only been 30 minutes, Bat.”

“30 minutes too long.” he pouts, cuddling into my neck.

“GET THAT CUTE SHIT OUT OF HERE!” Dew yells, startling me.

“Shut up, like you aren't going to come to me and beg for attention.” Rain says, rolling his eyes.

Phantom doesn’t get off my lap until it is time for the ghouls to get on stage and Mountain picks him up. We hold hands and walk from the Green Room to backstage and give a kiss before he gets on stage to the screaming crowd.

The show is amazing, just as all the others have been. When the final bow is taken and Papa has said the last goodnight I help the crew take down the stage and pack up so we can get on the road as soon as we can. The process is smooth and we are able to pack up the crew bus in under an hour. A new personal record.

When I get on the ghouls’ bus I am exhausted. I am happy to be the first on the bus tonight. Papa could herd the ghouls perfectly without my help but I felt a little guilty about texting him that I went straight to the bus and crawled into the first unclaimed bunk I found. Ghoul shepherding is part of my job.

I started to fall asleep when I heard the bus door open and close. I hear footsteps shuffle around until they stop in front of the bunk row I am in. I also hear sniffing? The curtain separating me from the mystery ghoul in the bus slowly opens. I’m surprised that I see Phantom, eyes bright and tail wagging.

“This spot taken?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

I let out a quiet giggle and scoot back as much as I can. Phantom gets a big smile on his face and crawls in next to me. He turns my body so he can be the big spoon, his second favorite cuddling position. If it was always up to him I would be laying on top of him at all times. I find his hand and lace our fingers together and he starts purring against my back and plants a kiss on my neck.

“Did you have fun at the concert?” I ask.

“It was fun, Swiss fell off his stage. But I missed you.”

“Maybe if you teach me to play the guitar Papa will add me to the band.” I said as a joke.

“That’s a great idea. We can start tomorrow.”

“You are so silly, Bat.”

“It is a good idea. We could spend more time together.”

“You never leave me alone. You're the reason I got this job.”

“And I will never give you a moment's peace.” He says, giving me a squeeze.

“We can talk about it in the morning.” I say, with a yawn. “Love you Phantom.”

“I love you too, My Angel.” kissing the back of my head.

I let his purring lull me to sleep as the other ghouls get on the bus and settle in for the overnight drive to the next sold out area.

[european-tour-operator]

Route: Skopje - Stobi - Skopje Duration: 4 h Experience a wine tasting in one of the best wineries in Macedonia with lunch. Depart for Stobi Winery where a professional guide will be waiting for you. There is no better way to

[flowery-mess]

Being on tour with Noah:

Since you're a european girl yourself you would love to join the band for european leg of the tour

And mostly you would love to show them around your country and city

Take them to your favorite places, university you attended, buildings where you lived before you moved to the states

Hating on the bus bunks so much, first you can't sleep with Noah and second you hate the small space

When they have to stay at the venue you would just wander around the city, exploring new places and then show Noah pictures you took and show tell him about the city they perfomed in, cause they don't have much time to be tourists

He would find it cute that your european side comes up so much, he has love-hate relationship with your 'see how this is better than in america' because you do that every occasion you have

Like with the food quality, transport, nature etc.

He LOVES hearing you talk in your native language, he doesn't understand shit you say, but he's amazed by how it sounds and how passionate you look when you talk and would ask you to repeat words that he finds funny (cause let's be honest, some languages are funny)

You would get backstage passes for your friends at your home country show, so you could see them and enjoy the show together

You keep your relationship private, so you can watch the shows from crowd if you are in the mood

If you're in the crowd Noah makes sure Ash has his eyes on you for your safety and he himself looks at you once in a while. Not just for checking up on you, but because he loves to see you enjoy their music

Or you can hang out with Matt, learning bits of his work every show

Actually when you're bored you go around asking people if they need help, even if it's folding merch or taping the cables on stage to the floor

At the end of the tour he says you two should have your own europe tour and visit the countries again together so you could show him the places he saw on your pictures

[thatchickwiththecamera]

What Do You Want From Me?

Synopsis: The European leg of the Concrete Forever tour marks one year since Tyler Garrett joined the Bad Omens media team. A lot can change over the course of a year. New experiences, new friendships, and new discoveries emerge.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x OC

Cross-posted on AO3 (thatchickwiththecamera)

MASTERLIST

Based on an idea I got from seeing this video.

Tag List: @sundamariis, @fastjelly-fish, @lilylovesdew, @narcissisticbehavior81

Tonight was night five of the European leg of the 2024 Concrete Forever tour and the end of January had marked one year since I had first joined the Bad Omens media crew. With the band's increase in popularity Bryan, the band's photographer and media director, decided it was time to expand the team going into Shiprocked so he could focus more carefully on planning and curating the media content produced and published for the band. 

So Bryan reached out to a friend in the music industry and asked if they knew of any photographers/videographers with a solid portfolio who were looking for a more permanent media production gig. That friend connected him to me and as they say, the rest is history. 

“Tyler! Did you finish up the edits for tonight's social post?” Bryan’s voice carried from the front of the crew bus to the back lounge where I sat backing up files to my external harddrive. 

“Yeah! They’re already in the dropbox!” I responded before ejecting my drive from my macbook and throwing them both back onto my bunk. 

I clipped my crew credentials with “CONCRETE FOREVER TOUR” and “TYLER GARRETT - MEDIA CREW” printed across the top and bottom through the belt loop of my jeans and slipped on my crew sweatshirt before walking toward the front of the bus. Bryan and Alana were standing over the main table and counter area double checking the batteries and the assortment of cameras we would be mounting in various parts of the stage for tonight's show along with our individual gear that would be on our person and laid out backstage for us to use throughout the show. 

The air once we stepped into the venue was buzzing with energy. I don’t know what it was about this leg of the tour, but it was like a switch was flipped. Ever since the first date in January opening for Bring Me The Horizon back in Cardiff there was this high that enveloped the entire group and it looked like no one would be coming down anytime soon. 

This energy was especially present in the band's lead singer, Noah. The usually stoic and serious persona he portrayed on stage was now replaced with one that roamed around the various levels of the stage doing jumping jacks, pushups, dances, and little vocal trills. 

After the first two shows, his antics even caused Poppy, our opener for this part of the tour, to completely abandon portraying her A.I. character like was originally planned for their performances of V.A.N.  Instead, she joined in Noah’s antics and even introduced the world to this little handshake that they had originally created during rehearsals leading up to the tour. 

Life in between gigs had been lively as well since the start of the new year. After each show when everything was packed up and the load outs were completed, the band and crew for both Bad Omens and BMTH would venture to one of the local pubs and celebrate with a few beers and carbonated beverages before loading up on the buses and venturing off to the next city. 

Until joining the Bad Omens crew, I would usually keep to myself in between shows while touring - choosing to prioritize edits, catalog files, and update my individual socials when not trying to finish a book on my Kindle or finish a show on a random streaming service. 

The first few months of touring after Shiprocked changed all of that and a few of the crew and band made it their mission to pull me out of the confines of my comfort zone and my regular routine. Over the course of the past year, Bryan has pushed me to learn and develop my photo and video skills far past where I ever thought they would go. Matt started teaching me front of the house controls, he now hounds me with daily racoon memes, and I in turn buy him random Dr. Pepper merch. Steven taught me all about the finer side of wristwatches, NBA basketball, and the intricacies of running merch. Alana quickly became one of my best friends and has balanced her assistant tour manager duties well alongside keeping me sane as the only other female member of the media team and crew. 

Folio decided that I absolutely had to learn how to fish when one of our venues had a lake nearby, even making me kiss the smallmouth bass that I caught before he threw it back in citing that it was tradition with your first fish. He also dared me to smoke my first joint, which caused me to hack up a lung because I somehow inhaled wrong. Nicholas helped me design a few tattoo ideas before inking my forearm and starting what will eventually become a full sleeve up my right arm. Jolly taught me a bunch of guitar riffs and how to cuss in Swedish (which I do entirely too often now), and Noah surprised me with the hidden talent of being a pool shark and we ended up becoming quick friends to the point where he is now my partner in crime hustling people out of their money when the crew goes out to bars. I also learned that while he hates it when people try to scare and prank him, he loves to scare and prank others. 

Which is why, as expected, throughout three out of the first four shows of the European leg, Noah made it his mission to try and scare me at least once per show mainly during the song transitions when I would try to quickly get from one side of the stage to the next during the blackouts. In Berlin, it was during the transition after “Nowhere to Go” when I was coming down from the second level of the stage after retrieving the camera that was filming Folio play. Luckily I had handed the camera and its tripod down to Alana behind the platform before descending the steps in time for Noah to jump out at the bottom already wearing his ski mask for V.A.N. 

I jumped, skipping a step on the way down, and felt a set of arms grab me and hold me back up before I could fall too far forward. I remember yelling ‘fucking hell’ in swedish and looking up to see Noah with a shit eating grin peaking through the mask and hearing Jolly laugh at my use of the words. I grabbed his mask and yanked on it so it was crooked on his face before I ran behind the platform to the other side of the stage where I had left my camera gear. I heard him let out a laugh and a few cuss words of his own as he struggled to fix the mask and climb the steps up to his spot on the platform before Poppy started singing. 

Night one in Cologne, I was mainly in the photo pit for the majority of the show, while Bryan and Alana were the ones roaming the stage. I kept a gear bag tucked behind one of the few big boxes we had on either side of the stage. In it, I had my spare batteries, my water bottle, and the 360 camera on an extension pole. The plan for this show was to focus on crowd shots and footage along with regular low-angle stage shots. While I got amazing shots of the guys performing and some hilarious shots of a fan crowd surfing in an inflatable shark suit. Noah lost any possible opportunity offered for pranking during the show. 

On night two in Cologne, he made up for the missed opportunity. During the transition between “Artifical Suicide” and “Like A Villan,” I quickly ran to the media team roadcase set up behind the guitar stage case and tech area to get a quick drink of water and change out a lens. As I was kneeling down in front of the case and had just finished switching the lenses, I felt a pair of hands grab my shoulders. Luckily all the equipment was out of my hands because the sudden motion made me jump and fall back on my heels, causing me to bump into something, well someone, behind me. I let out a string of curse words, this time in English, and tilted my head back to see Noah, now without his mask, trying to hold back a laugh as he smiled down at me. I let out an annoyed sign and rolled my eyes. He gave my shoulder a squeeze before disappearing back out onto the stage right as the song began. 

In Munich, he chose the “Miracle” break as his time to strike. Only this time he stepped up his game. While I was switching out gear and changing my settings from photo to video, I set everything on a storage case under the second level platform and stood up to stretch a bit since this break was the more lengthy of the two. After I finished trying rid my shoulders of the tension that had built up from holding a camera in front of my face for a hour, I felt an arm wrap across the front of my collarbones and pulled me back into them while the person's other hand took one of the band's athletic water bottles and sprayed it down the rear collar of my crew hoodie. I squirmed and let out a loud gasp as the shock of the icey cold water briefly hit the back of my neck before I managed to wriggle away. I turned and as expected was greeted by a sweaty Noah smiling down at me trying to hold back laughter. 

“You little shit!” I shouted before quickly grabbing the water bottle from his hand and pointed it at him spraying him with the same icy cold water. 

He started swatting at the spray, laughing as his long thin fingers did nothing to block the liquid. He reached out and grabbed my wrist and I quickly tried to switch the bottle to my other hand but he was too quick, capturing that wrist as well before I could aim the bottle at his face again. I laughed and tried to pull away but he pulled me toward him and pinned my wrists against his chest trying to render the “weapon” he introduced inoperable. 

The laughter between us suddenly died off. The height difference between my 5’1” and his 6’3'' became very clear and his chin practically touched his chest as he gazed down at me. We stood there for what felt like an eternity, brown eyes connected with blue. He loosened his grip on my wrists slightly but neither of us made any attempt to move.  

The arena suddenly felt very warm and I don’t think I could blame it on the array pyrotechnics used during the show. I don’t know what to call this sudden shift in the air between us, but all I know is it caused something to flutter in my stomach and that scared the hell out of me. So I did the first thing I could think of, I diffused an intense moment with humor. I squeezed the water bottle that was still in my hand and the last remnants of water from the bottle hit Noah’s chin and neck. The shock of the cold liquid caused him to step back and release my wrists. I immediately missed the contact, but I needed to get away from this situation. 

“Shit that really is cold!” He laughed, turning to grab one of the black towels we had on hand backstage and started to dry off the water. 

When he turned to offer me the towel I had already retrieved my camera and fled to the other side of the stage wondering what the fuck had just happened. 

During the day off between Munich and Zurich, I kept myself busy editing, organizing, and uploading photo content to the media team drive and to my own socials. I had gained a considerable amount of followers since joining the Bad Omens team and while I enjoyed seeing the reaction and appreciation the guys' fans had when I posted new content, I was also starting to see some of the reasons why the guys like to take social media breaks as often as they do. 

Editing was one of my favorite parts of being a photographer and with us starting this European leg off with four back-to-back shows, I hadn’t had time to pause and really work my magic. So that is what I designated as my mission for this day off. I also may have used it as an excuse to avoid leaving the crew bus and chance any more contact with Noah. I was still trying to figure out if that flutter in my stomach was real or if it was just part of the adrenaline from a high energy concert and my body being attacked with ice cold water. 

Tonight, we were in Zurich and I was running around the stage at various times throughout the set while Bryan was down in the photo pit trying out some new ideas he had photos wise and finally having his turn with the 360 camera during a show.

During “What do you want from me?” I was standing in the wings to stage left filming Noah when he suddenly walked over to me in the middle of the second verse, grabbed my left wrist from where it held the side of my camera and pulled me out onto the stage. I keep filming as he releases my wrist and quickly slips his hand in mine while he continues to walk backward onto the stage. Once we were in the middle of the stage he started to spin in a circle with our connected hands extended in the middle. We spun around a few times before he started to jump while we were spinning causing his hair to bounce up and down on his head which I shakily captured on camera. The randomness of it all led to fits of laughter and caused Noah to mess up the last two lines of the verse. 

As the verse came to an end I expected him to let go and yell, “JUMP JUMP” like he usually does during the brief blackout. Instead, as the light goes out, I am yanked forward and feel a hand and the cool metal of a microphone against the side of my face, and a set of lips briefly collide with mine. I barely had time to process what happened before it ended, the lips were gone, the lights came back up, and Noah jumped onto the riser at the front of the stage to sing the rest of the song. I still held my camera up and panned to follow him trying to hide any reaction my face might show behind a veil of concentration. 

For the remainder of the show, I tried to avoid making any and all eye contact with Noah, who in turn tried his damndest to get me to look at him and gauge my reaction to what he did. He did it in a way that wasn’t too noticeable to the crowd by acting like he's playing up to the camera. My brain tried to process what had happened and what the hell it possibly meant over the course of the remaining ten songs in the set. 

Noah kissed me. 

On stage. 

In the middle of a show. 

Did one of the guys see? 

Oh Shit! Did anyone in the audience see?

The usual jump scare from the previous shows never came and my self-sabotaging brain was trying to solve the question of what everything meant. Kissing me to see my reaction instead of scaring me like usual? Was this real or was it just another prank?

__

Author’s Note: Let me know what y’all think!

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG SUB] Jan and Nace at Hitradio Center, 23.07.2024

Photo source: Hitradio Center FB

Jan and Nace were guests at Hitradio Center in the morning on Tuesday, the 23rd of July 2024. They talked to Vesna Ponorac and Melani Mekicar about, among other things, 'Šta bih ja' and what to expect from the new album, who snores on the tour bus, and what they like best about each other.

Translation and captions by a member of Joker Out subs, English proofreading by IG GBoleyn123, video graphics by X pastellibianchi.

Full translated transcript under the cut!

Melani: Good morning from (Radio) Center, it's 7:36 AM and Vesna Ponorac and Melani Mekicar are keeping you company, and now, we've been announcing and waiting for them for two days,and we listen to them every day anyway, and we're always happy to see them. With us in Center's studio are Joker Out, or, well, two fifths of them. Nace and Jan, welcome!

Vesna: Good morning.

Jan: Greetings.

Melani: Good morning. I know that... well, thank you for taking the time, I know you've been "on the go" recently, literally. Where were you over the weekend? Most recently, or...

Nace: Go ahead, Jan.

Jan: Oh, thank you. Most recently, we were in Germany, at the Deichbrand Festival.

Melani: Was it good?

Jan: It was good. The only bad thing was that it took us 12 hours on the plane...

Melani: Oh, great.

Vesna: A ride.

Jan: In each direction.

Vesna: Yes, this European tour of yours is pretty varied. How many cities have you already done and how many are still ahead of you?

Melani: Is anyone keeping count?

Nace: Oh, you keep count. I know that we've done most European countries.

Melani: Okay.

Nace: Or, we will, what we haven't done yet, we will.

Melani: You will.

Vesna: Such sweet problems.

Melani: Yes, nice.

Vesna: How many cities you've already done, the best. Are you tired at all? What does it look like? Jan, you are now...

Nace: Do we look tired?

Vesna: Ah, Nace. Right, you're approaching the threshold of a new decade.

Melani: You've actually crossed it already, the first one.

Vesna: Ah, you already did. Oh, okay, I didn't know yet, okay, sorry.

Nace: No, I did.

Vesna: Well, but after sleeping in the tour busand on planes, does your back hurt already? Your lower back? Any issues yet?

Nace: Sleeping on the tour bus is betterthan sleeping at home.

Melani & Vesna: Really?

Vesna: Do you have a waterbed in there?

Nace: No, I don't know what happens, but when... Like, when you're tired after a gig and lie down in your bunk and the bus starts to move...

Melani: And you're there... A baby in a stroller.

Nace: As if someone were rocking you. Noise cancelling earphones, we've already learned that. And then you just fall asleep. We've also got used to it on planes, to... Earphones and that thing for the eyes...

Melani: I was just going to ask who snores the most on the tour bus.

Nace: No one.

Melani: No one? Or do you just not hear it because you have earphones?

Nace: I mean, no one from the band. Well, that too.

Melani: No one from the band.

Nace: No one from the band, but... Usually it's so that the band is on one side of the bus, and the crew is like... It just happens to be that way.

Melani: Fair, fair. Well, enough about tiredness, no rest for the brave, or however you say, you're here to tell us a little more about your new single 'Šta bih ja'.

Vesna: An awesome song.

Melani: Do tell us,you're leaning towards the microphone.

Nace: We have to speak close to the microphone.

Vesna: That's true.

Melani: Well, Bojan, the songwriter, is not here right now, for us to ask him who he can't do without in a black night, but okay. Tell us when this song was made, because people have been singing it for a while at gigs, right, but you only released it just over ten days ago.

Jan: Yes, um... That was actually the first song that we started working on in London, where we went in January. We went to London, among other things, with the intention to have maybe a more... cosmopolitan sound and... to perhaps get new experiences, and the first song that was made turned out to be the most nostalgically Balkan.

Melani: That's right.

Jan: So yeah, you have to go somewhere to start being aware of...

Melani: Your roots.

Jan: Exactly.

Melani: Nice, nice.

Vesna: The song is very ex-Yugo, just like you were in Sarajevo, maybe... looking for inspiration. But can we then expect more like that on the new album, any similar songs, or...?

Melani: Which languages are waiting for us and so on?

Nace: I mean, the album definitely has a common thread, and there will be at least three languages.

Melani: At least three, okay.

Nace: I mean, there will be three.

Melani: Okay, nice. And speaking of the new album, come on, we want to know all the details. When will we hear it, where will we hear it live, we already said three languages, spill the tea, everything you can.

Jan: You know what, I'd like to know that too.

Melani: Really? Who does know?

Jan: Honestly, no one really does right now, but in October, it'll be out in October. I can say that.

Melani & Vesna: Okay.

Melani: Okay, nice.

Vesna: Well, we will be back, because...

Jan: Or, in September.

Vesna: In September? Okay, that's very soon. Anyway, we'll be back exactly two hits later, because there were a lot of questions submitted for you.

Melani: On our Instagram, yup.

Vesna: Exactly. And we got calls as well, so we're looking forward to it, stay with us, it'll be a good time.

(music break)

Vesna: 'The Sound of Silence', good morning, you're at (Radio) Center.

Melani: Morning!

Vesna: We are Melani Mekicar and Vesna Ponorac here with you, and Jan and Nace from Joker Out are here as well. Good morning!

Melani: Morning.

Jan & Nace: Good morning.

Vesna: Well, we already spoke about the tour and the new song earlier, and now it's time for our listeners to get their turn.

Melani: Yes, if you only knew how many questions we got on our Instagram. Instagram exploded, as well as the calls, so let's start.

Vesna: Let's start with the calls.

Melani: Let's start with the calls.

Vesna: First up, a question from Mateja.

Caller: I really want to know how many girls from primary school write to you now? Like, female classmates, and maybe male classmates too, look, you never know.

Melani: Well?

Vesna: Well?

Jan: For a few years, I've been in contact with maybe...

Melani: Hey, you have to come closer, you know. Yes, yes.

Jan: For a few years, I've actually only been in contact with two female classmates.

Melani: Were you already in contact before?

Jan: Yes, regardless of the band, so...

Melani: They weren't like, "Oh, what's up, Jan?"

Vesna: Have any others piped up from before? No?

Jan: I mean, no, actually they haven't. Not much has changed, honestly.

Vesna: They don't dare to. Nace, is it any different for you?

Nace: A classmate called me if I could get her an autographed shirt.

Vesna: Your autograph or someone else's?

Nace: No, like for the whole band to sign.

Vesna: Ah, the whole band.

Nace: Everyone then always says, "Yes, you know, it's for my nephew."

Melani: Yes, the classic. For relatives.

Nace: "Which size? Ah, ah." It's always like that, always.

Vesna: Okay. The best. Great. The next question is from Petra.

Caller: Hi, boys. Going to Sziget, that is, well, how to say, an achievement, an achievement. I'd like to know if you're excited yet? And I'd like to know which other artists will you watch, listen to?

Melani: Sziget. Tell us.

Jan: Yes, we're very excited. This is... That was definitely one of our biggest goals, which... which didn't seem conceivable at all, years ago. But yes, this year we're on the main stage. I don't know if we will... Will we be able to watch anyone?

Melani: If you could.

Nace: Well, I hope so.

Melani: Who would you like to?

Nace: I don't know exactly who's on that day.

Melani: Who it is. But you'll watch someone for sure, if you have the chance, right.

Vesna: Well, you will hang out in the backstage, isn't that even better?

Melani: Yeah, they don't need to watch.

Vesna: You don't need to watch, man. You can watch from the back. Well, the next question is from Matej.

Caller: Hey. I'd like to know if you have any advice for young musicians who want to make it the way you did. Thank you for the answer!

Melani: Alright, music advice.

Nace: Music advice. Yeah...

Vesna: A little closer to the mic, Nace.

Nace: I will say it very close to the microphone. Just practise a lot, a lot, a lot, practise a lot, and practise a lot. What else do they need, to be persistent.

Vesna: What about the mindset?

Jan: And have a good mindset.

Nace: Yes.

Vesna: What does that mean, a good mindset?

Nace: Well, to have a good mindset while practising.

Vesna: To already imagine yourself at Sziget.

Melani: To not give up.

Vesna: Or?

Jan: Was that question for young musicians?

Vesna: Yes, yes.

Melani: Exactly, for those who want to... I mean, young, that's relative, but yes.

Vesna: But like, bands that are just forming and don't know what to do. What's your advice for them?

Jan: Have a charismatic and likeable frontman.

Melani: Bravo, bravo. Okay, we still have good number of questions on Instagram, which we will ask you after a few minutes, and yeah, that's it, speak to you later.

(music and news break)

Vesna: Good morning, you're listening to (Radio) Center, Vesna Ponorac in Melani Mekicar are here.

Melani: Hello.

Vesna: As well as Nace and Jan, two fifths of Joker Out. You submitted so many questions to our Instagram that the boys had to stay a little longer so we can answer everything, and let's go ahead and start.

Melani: Well, first up: what is the most Slovenian or Balkan thing that you like? Accordion, ajvar¹, I don't know.

¹Ajvar is a typical Balkan condiment made from roasted bell peppers.

Vesna: Prekmurska gibanica.²

²Prekmurska gibanica is a traditional Slovenian dessert from the Prekmurje region in the north-east of Slovenia. It's made from several layers of phyllo dough and cottage cheese filling, poppy seed filling, walnut filling and apple filling.

Jan: Clean air.

Melani: Clean a– oh, nice. Fair enough. Nace?

Nace: What do we have... No, I want to think of something that is... There must be something that, when we're out there...

Vesna: Idrija lace.

Nace: Idrija lace. I mean, we always have that with us, so I don't miss that.

Melani: Fair, fair. But like, that's a very Slovenian thing that you love a lot.

Nace: Yes, definitely.

Vesna: Exactly. That's it. Okay. Moving on, a big concert in Slovenia, when?

Melani: Again.

Jan: How big?

Vesna: Stožice big.

Melani: As big as possible.

Jan: Not this year.

Vesna: No?

Melani: Okay, but how about, let's say, something a little smaller than Stožice?

Jan: That's coming this year.

Melani: Coming this year. Okay, you heard it here. Okay, your favourite thing about each other. If you were all here right now, this would be even more fun, but alright.

Jan: What, my... Mine, about Nace?

Melani: Your favourite thing about Nace, it can be his personality, it can be that he has a really awesome hairdo, whatever, and vice versa.

Jan: Nace is a very considerate person. Like, if he feels that... that you're not feeling okay, even if you're feeling totally okay, he'll ask you and be like...

Vesna: "Are you good, man?" Awesome.

Jan: "Jan, are you okay? You don't look okay."

Vesna: Nice. What's your zodiac sign, Nace?

Nace: Cancer.

Vesna: Aw, of course.

Melani: Nice. That's a very nice trait. Nace, what about Jan?

Nace: Jan's guitar playing. I mean... I'm sorry, that's...

Melani: That's true.

Nace: When he grabs a gui– just yesterday, we were at the studio, and I didn't tell him this, but when he started messing around and making weird sounds with the guitar, I said... I'm glad he's my guitarist.

Vesna: How nice, man.

Melani: Come on, stop it. Very nice.

Vesna: What a cute moment.

Melani: Okay, let's move on from this cute stuff to problems for a bit. Someone wants to know what the biggest problem you face as famous musicians is?

Vesna: And young ones.

Melani: Yes. So, I don't know, is it that girls are running after you, I don't know, is it that you can't just publish everything on the internet anymore? What's the biggest, like...

Vesna: A long deliberation, but take your time.

Melani: Well, is everything nice?

Jan: At one point, I had a bit of an... internet overdose. So... ever since I've distanced myself from scrolling Twitter every hour, I've...

Melani & Vesna: You've been much better.

Jan: I've spared myself a lot, yeah.

Vesna: I'd say so.

Melani: Okay. Nace?

Nace: Shoot... I always... maybe it's not like that here, but when we're somewhere abroad, and fans gather around our bus that we travel with, sometimes, when you're tired and because you're in a hurry to move on, it's kind of hard to go past these fans without giving them any attention.

Vesna: Especially because you're a Cancer, and so thoughtful, you'd probably like to give everyone there attention. Well, nice. Okay, this is it, boys. Everyone go listen to Joker Out's new song, 'Šta bih ja'. Thank you for being our guests and may your keep being successful.

Jan: Thank you very much for inviting us.

Vesna: Yes, gladly. Bye bye!

The subtitles in the video have a few slight differences from this transcript; they spoke very fast, so some sacrifices had to be made for the subs.

[shojizbae]

Fame Monster

Tom Kaulitz x Reader

Your career had really taken off since your first album, Blutsbande, was released. Your European tour took over your summer break. You had performed all over many places you begged your mom to travel to. Of course, as your 'manager,' she got to tag along with you. You got to meet so many fans and explore new corners of the world.

That's not to say you didn't feel a small dull, annoying void in your life.

Tom.

You've thought about him every day since you met.

And in every way. When you meet couples and celebrities with their partners, seeing them in the crowds of your shows stung a lot. People can look deep into each other's eyes, especially when you sing your slow songs about love and desire. It was just in public, when your mother was meeting with your publicist, and you were alone on the tour bus, that you thought deeply about him.

About how he smelled and looked. Especially how he tasted. You regret every moment that you didn't kiss him. Since then, you distracted yourself by finding male fans who wanted to touch you. And there were many. You never went all the way with them. It didn't seem right. But every few weeks, you would find some cute Spaniard and give him a VIP pass to your dressing room. The most tabloids got from it was that you had blown a fan in Wales.

But now, you were home in Germany, tired and hungry. You were supposed to have a meeting with your publicist and the producers about beginning a new album and mapping the world tour for the first album. While they discussed some financial things that a star like you was too important to be bored with, you went looking for caffeine.

The break room is quite spacious and cozy. The walls are adorned with vibrant and expensive abstract art pieces, adding a touch of sophistication to the room. There are comfortable seating areas, and the room is well-lit, with natural light streaming through the windows. Overall, it's a welcoming space to take a break and relax.

Right as you enter, four rowdy boys come down a separate hallway. You sigh and open the stainless steel fridge.

"Ah shit, it's the pop princess!" Bill interrupts

"Deine Frau," Gustav snickers as he rattles Tom. Your eyes lock. It feels like everyone else in the world vanishes, and you're zoomed out, looking at the two of you on the planet, orbiting the sun.

"Hey, welcome back to reality, superstar." Tom smiles as if you two are best friends.

"Ja, it was super cool. Now I'm just super thirsty." One of his eyebrows shoots up as you open the fridge for a beverage. You grab the last bottle of Coke. You twist off the bottle cap and flick it to the trashcan again. The boys also find respective snacks and consume a couch. Discovering that there was no room left, you take the pocket of the sofa where Tom was sitting, resting your legs across his spread lap. You dig in with the arm of the sofa at your back. He regards you and then places one hand on your thigh.

They continue their conversation as if you belong in Tom's lap. Like you were just an accessory missing from his outfit. He traces circles over your thigh as they keep an idle conversation.

"Do you want some Cola?" You offer the bottle up to his lips.

"Ja," he takes a swig and hands it back to you. You smile at him and lick the rim of the bottle. The boys erupt at the pure eroticism of your acts. He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the coffee table. He takes hoists you up so you're straddling him.

"I'm going to kiss you now," He grips me tightly, and I just smile as he takes the lead. Before you get too heated and dirty, Bill clears his throat.

"Um, maybe find like a janitor's closet if you're going to have sex."

Georg and Gustav snicker, but you return to your little pocket under Tom's arm.

"I heard you're willing to do much in front of crowds." Georg jokes

"Uh, stupid tabloids, I went down on four guys over a three-month tour, and suddenly I'm some promiscuous slut. Didn't someone say you had slept with 25 girls when you were 14?" you slap Tom's chest

"Stupid tabloids," He agrees. Just then, your mother comes dashing out of the meeting room, screaming your name and waving her hands.

"Honey! Oh Mein, Gott! Angel." She comes to a halt right in front of you. "Who are these boys? Never mind, it's not relevant. This is super important, but we'll talk about these boys later. Rammstein wants you to open for them!"

In that regard Netanyahu you launched at out Tom’s lap, to his dismay. All around your European tour when you were stuck in interviews asking you the same questions they always asked who inspired you. Took hotel and Rammstein were always the answer.

Well, now, you had gotten that close to making out with a member of Tokio Hotel, and NOW Rammstein wanted you to come to tour with them. You were jumping around, hugging your mom, and squealing something in Hebrew.

"Wait, when?" you separate and hold your mom by her triceps

"Their tour starts in two months, so you're doing some shows in New Zealand and Australia, and then you'll be back in rehearsals." She switches her tone from 'mom' to 'manager'. You sulk, knowing that it was back to a busy and stressful life. Especially now that it seemed there could be something with Tom.

Before the blue could consume you, shouts of excitement consume the area behind you.

"Woah, so cool!"

"you're opening for Rammstein!"

"You're traveling more!"

The boys have all jumped up, encircled you, and congratulated you with back pats. Tom slings an arm around your shoulders and looks down at you fondly.

"I guess we'll have to save that kiss for when you get back."

"No way." You extend to your tip toes and direct his jaw by his cheek. He kisses you a little chastely, knowing your mom is right there. And when you pull back, it's all over. From then on, you know that Tom Kaulitz is the only one you want to be around. The look in his chocolaty eyes and the slight smile is a tell-tale sign that it's over.

You're all he wants.

"We should go for a celebratory lunch!" Bill cheers

"Ja, I'm hungry."

"Your publicist still needs to work out some details of this little oral scandal. I hope you start associating with better people. But for now, take the card and bring me back a brisket sandwich." Your mom tosses a credit card at you with a stern mom look.

"Sweet! Danke mama!" You hop up and kiss her cheek. On your way out, you get your jacket and purse. The boys follow you out, although none of them bring jackets. Bill is already wearing one.

"And liebe,"

"Ja Mama?"

"Don't eat too much, you'll get fat.'

"Yes, mama."

When you leave the record label, the boys have already hailed a taxi. You climbed in, comfortably sandwiched between Georg and Gustav. You know to keep your face covered in public, so you slide on sunglasses and a hat. Paparazzi isn't as heinous in Germany as in the US, but fangirls are bound to find the famous Kaulitz twins. They take you to a nicer sit-down restaurant, and you order a round of sodas and some bread.

For 16-year-old boys, they make tolerable conversation. You catch up on what it's like to be a young celebrity. Although it is really refreshing to just make dick jokes and laugh loudly. When you order food, Gustav orders your mothers a sandwich for you to go, and you get a chicken salad with pita. The boys joke about being emasculated by a woman paying, but they all agree to take you to lunch again when you return from Australia.

You slip your jacket back on your shoulders, slide out of the booth, and the boys follow you. As you leave the restaurant, you are bombarded by a camera flash, and you feel a hand interlock with yours and let it lead you to another cab. Screams of your name and 'Look here.' You're ducked into a cab, which speeds back towards the record label.

Paparazzi follow the car until you get on the freeway. When the adrenaline wears off, you realize that you've been tugged into someone's warm lap. You can feel his steady breathing as his chest rises and falls, and the gentle exhales fan the back of your neck. Just by scanning the faces of the three other men in the car's back seat, you deduce that you're sitting on Tom's lap. Although you could have put that together based on his belt buckle.

"Tom, you've got to fix your pants. I'm sitting right on your belt buckle." you try to shift around so that it's not poking you in the ass

"That's not my belt buckle, Schatz." He snickers

"Oh really?" You twist around in the crowded cab and sling your arms on his neck. Your tiny black mini-skirt rides up your thighs, showing off your neon patterned underwear."

"Yeah," He groans into your ear. "And let me tell you something, we could go at it right now."

"Now, in front of your brother. Hey, driver, we are rerouting. Take me to the nearest apartment." Howls envelop the cab, and the five of you are spat out on a curbside near a hotel. You swipe your mom's credit card for the cab and then swipe it again for a room.

You can't keep your hands to yourself in the elevator, and when you get to the hotel, it's over. Tom drags you to a bedroom and locks the door behind the two of you.

~.~

Your publicist nearly faints when he sees the tabloids the following day.

"Young star seen with salacious band Tokio Hotel" and photos of you and the four eating lunch together.

"Rising Rock stars seen holding hands" and the pictures of you and Tom

"Could a relationship between these two rockstars be blossoming?"

Rockstars seen making out in cab

"Young rockstars seen going into a hotel. They're only 16!"

Photo evidence of the five of you walking in downtown Berlin covered these drama blogs. Your mother is fuming when you get home. You're walking on sunshine, though. Freshly deflowered and in love. The following two weeks are a roller coaster, and you spend most of it riding Tom. You've already racked up quite a reputation when you reach the islands.

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts III

A/N: firstly apologies for the wait and secondly I absolutely did not want to cut this into another part but here we are 😢 I think this will change some ppls opinions oops dont hate me

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————————

I couldn’t put my finger on it but something was off in my life; I felt disconnected from myself, my friends, and most importantly from Gray. But getting Gray to communicate when he didn’t want to could feel like pulling teeth. And I was no dentist.

I figured the solution was to stubbornly throw myself into work. After all, with Harry’s European tour starting March there was always a lot to do.

“Nice of you to get here so early,” Harry says as I step off the elevators just before 9–an hour later than I usually do.

“I had dry cleaning to pick up,” I ignore his sarcasm. “Your tour fits aren’t going to magically appear in the penthouse as nice as that would be for me.”

I keep my tone light, joking, but it’s passive just as he is. And he can’t call passive out.

That’s what working for Harry has been like since December. It was winter outside these walls and inside.

I had originally decided to let it all go after sitting with the party’s events that weekend but upon arriving to work Harry had been particular asshole-ish and I decided two could play at the game. It was like the holiday party never happened. And I was okay with that.

“If they did, I wouldn’t need you would I?” Harry takes on the same tone I do.

Asshole, “yeah, how nice would that be.”

I walk away to his closet to hang up the garment bags.

“You still have two fits that need final fitting. For today, you’ve got a 2pm for your ear plugs and monitors,” I say as I walk back into the main living space. I take in Harry in his bathrobe and bedhead and realize he must be hungover. Which meant extra grumpy. “Also a meeting before noon with Jeff—he’s sick so he’ll do a Zoom. And rehearsals start tomorrow at 8am.”

The long-awaited tour he was rehearsing for was 2 months long and with his tour manager joining him I’d be kind of redundant. We agreed I’d start the tour with him, and then end it as he came back to the UK but I’d take a break in between.

“Good,” Harry sits on a barstool and as the robe parts I hoped he was wearing something underneath. “Are you joining rehearsals?”

“Tomorrow yeah,” I instinctively start tidying the coffee table littered with Harry’s activities from last night. There’s empty bottles and unused rolling papers, takeout containers and unopened bottles.

“Can you stop that,” Harry snaps. He’s wincing when I look up. “The clinking—it’s too loud.”

His second statement comes out softer but it doesn’t make him any less irritating.

“I’ll just toss these ones,” I take the ones I’d gathered in my hand.

“So,” he carries on with the earlier conversation. “Just tomorrow yeah?”

“Yep, to make sure everyone’s there, forms are signed, and all that. Jeff will drop by too. Otherwise I’ll just be there once a week or so since I have other things to complete.”

“So you’ll enjoy the full glory of the show once it’s live on stage?”

“I guess.”

“Please y/n reign in the excitement, it’s just too much.” Harry flexes his sarcasm again.

I look up from the other side of the island and lock eyes with him. With one bottle still in my hand I don’t put it in gently, instead letting it drop onto the others in the bin. His face twists in pain and I get my hit of satisfaction.

“I am excited,” I continue. “I’ll be more excited when you get on tour but right now I’m buried under an insane amount of logistics and stuff. So I’m just pacing myself.”

“Glad you got that out of your system,” he slides off the stool. “Are you sure you want to join tour? It takes a toll.”

“What? Am I taking up the space you reserved for groupies?” I goad.

He pretends to think, “No…we’ve got a whole other bus for that.”

“Great,” I smile. “Then I’ll definitely be there for the start of your tour, cheering you on.”

“Not too hard though,” Harry grabs a water from the fridge and heads towards the bedrooms. “Can’t have all of y/n’s enthusiasm overshadowing my fans.”

I roll my eyes behind his back and choose not to respond, as tempting as it was.

By the end of the week I’ve met everyone that’ll be joining the tour, taken copies of a million contracts and filed a billion papers.

It’s Saturday night and we’re heading home from the studio. Harry, in a twist of kindness, offers to drop me home.

“You don’t live too far,” he comments as we get closer to my building.

“Yeah, I was surprised with that.” It was a stroke of luck having a short commute.

“How does Mr. Duran feel about you coming on tour?”

I throw him a look but he sits there smug, waiting. “Well he’s not keen on me being away from home for so long but otherwise he’s fine.”

“Is he?” Harry extends his knee to nudge mine, irritating me. Just a few more minutes.

“Yes.” I turn to look out the window, no longer interested in the conversation. In reality Gray had been pretty upset that I’d be travelling the continent with womanizer Harry Styles. I’d soothed his fears but he was hard-headed about it.

Originally I’d saved the conversation to be had after New Year’s to not ruin the holidays but Josie had brought up tickets for the tour during Christmas dinner and although I played it off then, he’d been in a mood since.

“You’re an awful liar,” Harry says. I don’t respond. Luckily I’m home.

I figured Sunday, on my day off, Gray and I could catch up and spend quality time together. Maybe iron out some of our kinks. But he tells me he had a few sessions and I’m left alone for most of the day, convinced Gray booked them on purpose but not wanting to admit what that meant.

The following Thursday night, Gray and I finally collide after I’d spent the week stewing in my anger and anxieties.

“Why won’t you just talk to me? I feel like I’m living with a stranger these days.” The conversation starts out semi-tamed as we wash up for dinner.

“You feel that way? Well I’ve seen my fiancée for less than 48 hours a week this last year. Talk about being a stranger.”

“I’ve been taking more time off,” I wonder when he decided to count the number of hours. But it was true—I’d started doing a half-days on most Saturdays and coming home earlier on week nights. Like tonight, I’d been home by half past 6. “I’ve been trying to spend more time at home.”

“Too little too late,” Gray mutters.

“What?”

“I just mean,” he sighs. “I…y/n, we barely get time together. We’re like flatmates these days aren’t we? We haven’t-“

“Don’t you dare Gray,” I wasn’t having this. I refused to hear what he was trying to get at.

“Y/n don’t be difficult-“

“Difficult!? You can’t go radio silent on me and then decide 3 years can just go down the drain.”

“I’m not saying that-“

“Then what are you saying!?”

The silence rings to the corners of our kitchen. The dishes are long forgotten, suds drip down my elbow and onto the floor, and Gray’s towel hangs like a white flag beside him.

“You knew what this job meant—you work with the same clientele, and you encouraged me to go for it. I’m trying to be better I don’t get it.” I finally say.

“I’m saying something needs to change.”

What takes me back the most is the even—even apathetic, tone. It’s the fact that he must have been thinking on this for long enough to be so level-headed about it.

Who has he talked to, I wonder. His sister? Our friends? Who’s advised him to go in this direction because the Grayson I know wouldn’t do me like this. Couldn’t.

Are you even the y/n Grayson knows, a small voice asks in my head.

“We’ve changed, I get it.” My tone takes a pleading ring to it and I hate it. “But you can’t just decide this isn’t worth fighting for Gray-“

“I’m not Y/n,” he puts the towel to the side and grabs my arms. “I’m not throwing anything away but we need to bloody figure something out because…I’m unhappy. And can you really say our relationship is the same? Can you call what we’re in a relationship?”

“Why not?” I whisper, tears choking me. “I thought we love each other and we support each other and-and we see each other through thick and thin.”

“I love you,” Gray squeezes. “And I know we’ve seen each other through thick and thin but…I don’t know if I can keep supporting you at the expense of us.”

“Well what do you want?” I look up into his brown eyes. They’re steady like they usually were.

“I want you, selfishly. I want all of you.”

He had what he wanted, didn’t he get that? He had me. I don’t know what more of me I could give him. And that thought tears me right through.

“What happened to setting a date?” Gray steps back and takes his steady grip with him. I sink into the countertop behind me. “What happened to planning for our future? Marriage and kids and buying a home and doing something more?”

His voice raises as he talks.

“I feel like I’ve been living in limbo for the last year! Just waiting around for you. I don’t know how much longer I can wait-“

“We can set a date,” I say. “We can do all that! You-you haven’t brought up any of it either! If it’s been weighing on your mind why don’t you ever just say something!?”

“I shouldn’t have to!”

I’d hit a nerve. We’d had this conversation a dozen times.

“Of course you do! Like, I’m not a mind reader you’ve been stewing in these feelings for god knows how long and now you’re telling me you’re thinking of-of-of ending things!?”

There, I’d said it.

His face contorts into a flurry of emotions. My body feels ragged just saying these things out loud.

“When I spoke to Stewart and Bex they said-“

“Stewart and…” I was right he’s been talking. “You were talking to Stew and Bex!? Since when did you spend time with Bex?”

“Since I had a lot of time alone at home.”

Fuck, he managed to get the upper hand all the time with that one valid point he had.

“They both agreed with me that this isn’t right. I’m allowed to be upset and ask you for something to change-“

“But why didn’t you talk to me!” The switch to anger is quick when he admits he was talking to our friends. I think about the last few times we saw them—had they been judging me? Had Gray told them by then?

Gray tries to brush past and tell me more about his validated feelings, about how things had changed. I can’t hear anymore.

“This decision you seem to want to make for both of us should involve me too and yet you make it the talk of the town before consulting me. I’m so goddamn tired of the way you shut down Gray I-“

“I’m tired!” He butts in. “I’m tired of watching things change and being forced to move past it.”

I stare at him. He’s not bending whatsoever. He’s not even understanding the frustration at being the last to know his feelings on our fucking relationship. Didn’t he understand how iced out that made me feel? When I’ve been trying to be as mindful as I can?

“You know what Gray,” I sneer. “You talk about us changing but did you ever think that we’ve been changing since we first met!? The only thing that’s different now is we stopped talking!”

I throw the rest of the dishes into the soapy water and storm out to the only safe haven I had right now—our bed.

Everyone wanted parts of me I couldn’t give and I felt torn to shreds! I hardly recognized the girl in the mirror, I hardly remembered what it felt like to be me.

The only time I felt centered, a bit of calm, was here. With Gray.

And now I knew the feelings weren’t mutual. He’d been thinking of ending things while I had curled in his arms. While I had kissed him goodnight and hello. While we had dinner or drinks. While we hung out with friends who were privy to all the cracks in our relationship. Who knows how long it had been a one-sided feeling.

I bury my head into my pillow wanting to scream and cry at the same time. My head hurts but mostly my heart hurts. I feel betrayed by my bestest friend and the person I love the most.

You’re no better, the ugly voice in my head shows up again. You’ve done things you should be ashamed of.

I block the voice out. I block it all out until all I feel is numb.

Gray doesn’t come to bed at all that night. I drag myself out of the nest I’d created some time around midnight, thinking he fell asleep on the sofa. To tell him to come to bed since I knew our sofa wasn’t long enough for him to even fit on.

I sway in the middle of the empty living room. There’s nobody here. Definitely not Gray. He’d left altogether, to wherever he’s been finding refuge recently.

It hits me; I think I’ve done this to myself. I was alone. Really alone.

***

The scowl is permanently etched onto my face as I go about my Friday morning. I feel Harry’s eyes on me a few times but even he doesn’t broach the subject. We silently maneuver around each other until he leaves for rehearsal.

I think about calling my friends to talk about this but I realize all my friends who were up to date on my life had become interwoven with Gray’s. And I already know Gray complained about my job to them based on a few parties last year. So they definitely wouldn’t be unbiased listening to anything I said.

I regret then, not staying in touch more with my friends back home. For the first time in years I feel a bit homesick.

I decide busying myself with work would be the only thing to keep me sane so I throw on headphones and get down to business.

As the day starts to come to an end I put on Harry’s stereo with the mournful songs that had been comforting me today and grab a seltzer from the fridge. He wouldn’t be home until 8 tonight and he’s always been open about using whatever was in the general living spaces.

So I nearly have a heart attack when I see a shadow from the corner of my eyes around 6.

I give a shout when it comes with a voice and once my senses return I realize it’s just a sweaty Harry back early from rehearsal.

“What? Are you doing here!?” I press on my pounding heart. “Alexa music off.”

He’s grinning at the way I reacted and now he laughs, it’s a bending-over laugh and I chuckle myself as I replay how dramatic it all was.

“Wow.” He says when he finally catches his breath. “I wish I had that on video.”

“Jesus,” I swear. “I thought you’d be home a lot later.”

“So this is what happens when I’m not home,” he teases.

“Only on Fridays,” I collapse into the closest chair and tilt my head back. “God, I thought there was like, an intruder or something. Or a ghost.”

He laughs again, moving to the kitchen for a water. “Good thing ghosts don’t exist.”

“They so do.” I reply.

“There’s no proof that’s ever convinced me they exist.”

“You live a sad skeptical life Mr. Styles.” My breathing is finally regulated and I sit up to look at him. “I’ve seen one myself when I was a teen. I wish I could be a disbeliever like you.”

“You’ll have to tell me the story,” he leans on the island looking very amused.

“I will,” I accept his challenge.

“I cut rehearsals short,” he continues. “I’m knackered from this week. I just want to be one with my couch and get drunk and not worry about what moves to do and what song to sing.”

“Yeah,” he looked tired and his hair was getting a bit shaggy. He runs his hand through the damp curls. “I need a shower and I think I should do a trim.”

“Consider it booked,” I pull the phone towards me and text his usual stylist. I hear him move around the space and pause before he disappears down the hall.

“Are you heading home soon?” He asks.

“Hm?” I kill time responding, acting like I didn’t hear his response. I didn’t want to go home at all. I didn’t even know if Gray was home or not and I didn’t want to find out. Harry repeats his question. “No. I wanted to wrap up some things. I can move to the office if you wanted the space to chill out?”

He shrugs and tells me I could go where I want.

I wanted to be out of the way, and not home. So I move to the office. The same office where weeks ago I’d teetered on the edge of a fatal decision and now was faced with the possibility of that decision made for me.

I slump in the seat and take a moment to just decompress. A headache creeps around my eyes and I just feel lost and hurt and alone.

When I break the laptop open again I move like a slug, scraping the barrel of effort and coming up with nil.

“Uh y/n?” Harry’s head pops into the door a while later.

“Yeah?” I blink up at him, still in slug mode.

He stares at me a second, “Do you have plans tonight? You could…join me in doing nothing?”

When was the last time I did nothing? I couldn’t remember. And it sounded like a distraction—not a good one, but one that helped me avoid home for longer.

“Sure?” I respond.

Harry blinks. “Oh. Brilliant. Finish what you’re doing if you’d like or you can join me now. Oh. Could you also order us some pizza or something that’s greasy and bad for us?”

I liked the direction of this. I feel my sluggish feeling slide away. “I can do that.”

“Good. Great. This is going to be a good night.”

He moves away as he talks and his last sentence is shouted from down the hall. I smile, relieved to do something like this.

I consider texting Gray, but decide against it. He left last night without a word, making me worried and today there’s been radio silence. I wasn’t in the mood to take the high road.

I do as Harry asks. Meanwhile Harry had put on some peppier music and brought out a six-pack from the fridge. His head is buried in the pantry rummaging through.

“What do you need?” I come up behind him.

“Oh,” he pops out. “Looking for some sweets. I’m sure I have some somewhere.”

“Oh yeah!” I close the doors he’s looking in and open the top cabinet. His eyes light up when he spots the options. “Food’s on its way by the way.”

He rubs his hands and starts pulling things off the pantry. It’s a different energy than any before, he’s not picking on me or ordering me around. He’s just inviting me to be on the ins with him. My instinct is to stay quiet and see where it goes but I shake it off.

“Are we just playing with beer tonight or is wine on the menu?” I ask. I hated the taste of beer.

“It could?” He unloads the pile in his arms onto the island and starts rummaging through the wines. “How about this one?”

A white. I take it from him and head for some glasses.

We end up making a buffet for ourselves on the coffee table and when the pizza comes we settle in, chatting occasionally about the things around us.

“So what does doing nothing involve?” I ask when we’re situated on the couch. Harry’s left a few feet of space between us which is very appreciated. I pull my feet up. “Because I have to say it’s been a while and I don’t know how to do nothing.”

He laughs, throwing his head back. I find myself grinning in response.

“Touché mon amie.”

“Okay I actually got that,” I nod.

“Do you speak french?” He asks as he opens the wine and pours us both a glass, mine’s a lot more full than his.

“No but I spent a month in Paris when I was in uni,” I savour the sour flavours of the wine as it coats my mouth and settles me down. “So I learned the bare minimum. Now all I can say is bonjour, ca beigne? And also un verre du vin s’il vous plait?”

“So you cut right to the chase—hey are you alright? A glass of wine thanks. Now leave me alone.”

We laugh and I hold up my glass, “I was hoping you’d get the hint. Why is mine so full anyway?”

“I’m just drinking some so you don’t have to drink it alone. Then I’m gonna crack on with the beer.”

“Oh!” There he had to go and be thoughtful again. “Forget it, I will happily drink the bottle. Drink whatever you want.”

“Yeah?” He leans forward to put his glass down.

I lean over and pour his measly amount into mine. “There, you’ve done the sharing part.”

“So y/n,” he asks after we’ve grabbed our respective snacks of choice. “Can I ask why you were listening to all those ballads before I came in?”

“I need to get a bit more drunk before I do that,” I down some more wine, already feeling the buzz of it. Obviously this was not the cheap wine I generally had.

“Alright we’ll get you there,” he promises. His eyes flicker from his phone to me and back to his phone. “Uhh could I show you something?”

“Like what?”

“We’re releasing the MV for one of my songs a week before I go on tour right.”

“Right,” I name the single that’s been thrown around countless times this week.

“I got back the deck for what it’ll look like. I’m excited can I show it to you?”

It’s endearing, in a way, how eager he is to show it. His cheeks even have spots of pink.

“Uh yeah! Let’s see it!”

“Cool,” he grins. He turns on the TV and casts whatever video is on his phone to the screen. He gives me some background on how it was setting up a whole storyline and how they’ve already started filming some of the scenes.

“The shooting starts the week after this one right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be in Scotland for a few days. You’re joining me right?”

“Yes! I’m excited to see all the action myself.” I had signed up for the 4-day trip with zero hesitation. As someone who’s always been making up stories and concepts to most music I listened to, getting to see the bts for an MV was a dream come true.

“Really?” He asks.

“Yeah, it’s real excitement I promise.”

“You’re interested in it?”

“Yeah! I love music videos, it creates a whole new experience for a song we’ve probably listened to on repeat. It’s cool!”

“So this is y/n really enthusiastic,” he leans back in the cushions to get me in full. “Now I really know you couldn’t give a rat’s arse about tour.”

“Stop saying that!” I laugh. “I was just stressed. I am excited about all of it okay?”

“So you say,” with a final glance he presses play and I’m entranced as the narration takes us through the plan.

“Umm all I can say is wow.” I turn to him when it’s done. My wine glass had been emptied and my brain had been itched with the most beautiful location and storytelling I’ve seen in a while. “That’s like a mini movie.”

“That’s what I said!” He exclaims. “It’s going to blow everything out of the water.”

“Look at us, doing nothing.” I realize we’d turned around and talked about work.

“Bollocks we’re no good at this.” Harry slides a hand down his face and I laugh at the dramatics. “Let me refill you at least.”

I happily oblige.

We talk about the mv some more, and move onto the tour. Harry asks me about the concerts I’ve been to and we get the kind of excited when you’re tipsy once we find out we were both at a Coldplay concert four years ago in London.

“That would’ve been before the success so I would have been just another bloke to you,” he notes.

“Yeah, imagine we crossed paths then? That would be crazy.”

“If we did, we might still be doing this tonight, just as mates,” he points to between us. “Or you would have fallen in love with me and I would have sacrificed my music to raise our kids.”

“What!?” It’s so absurdly ridiculous that I nearly snort my wine. “Where did that comes from!?”

“Admit it,” he puffs out his chest. “That would have happened. And I’d be so committed-“

“Well you’re assuming that in a 4 year time-span we would get to the point of having kids. So firstly no, secondly who said you had to sacrifice your career?”

“I-“ he stops mid-sentence, looking into the distance.

“Exactly!” I shout. “You’ve got nothing. You’ve just made up a story that makes you sounds good and noble!”

“Fine,” he settles down. “Fine! We never meet and you end up with your Duran bloke and I end up a musician.”

“Is that all I’m reduced to?” I raise my brow. “Who I’m with?”

“No!” He leans between us to pat my leg. It tingles. “No I didn’t mean it like that. You’ll do great things. I just mean the person you end up with isn’t superstar Harry Styles.”

I roll my eyes, “I need more wine if I’m gonna be subjected to any more of this bullshit.”

“Bullshit?!”

“Mhm,” I pop a gummy into my mouth and ignore the look of shock on his face.

“Fine. Then tell me about your bullshit,” he raises his can. “What’s happening to make you so ferocious this morning.”

Oh god. I hold up a finger and shimmy forward for some more wine. I’d drank 2/3 of the bottle and I was definitely tipsy. Maybe I’ll just sip this one.

“Fine. If you want to hear it.”

“I do.”

“I got into a fight with Gray.”

He raises a brow, I continue.

“He’s upset with me and complaining that I work a lot and that he feels like I’m his flatmate!”

“Flatmate with benefits.”

“Shut up!” I groan. “Not the point.”

“Sorry!” He holds his hands up.

“I don’t think he realizes how much of my head is just Gray like, I’m always thinking about him, about what I could do for him and say to him just to make sure he feels seen and reassured and loved! You know I’ve asked you for half-days on Saturdays when you don’t have a lot going on-“

“Mhm,” he nods along.

“I’m like, making sure I’m being a good partner. And apparently he’s been upset and not saying anything.”

“The old silent on the home front.”

“Yes!” I nearly drip wine as I pump my hand. “Yes, on the home front he’s bloody broody and quiet. I knew something was on his mind but like always he’s tight lipped. Even when I asked him a week ago he said he’s just been working a lot. What a liar!”

I complain about how it felt to be iced out of my partner’s emotions and having to guess all the time.

“Then I find out he’s been talking to all our friends to get advice.” Harry raises his brows in judgement and leans back into the sofa, and the small gesture makes me feel so validated. I didn’t realize how much I needed a third-party to just listen to my side of things. Until now, I’d literally not had anyone to talk to about this especially since I avoided talking about work with Gray. I get misty eyed.

“And when we’re talking he’s like so-and-so said this as if I want to know. And!” Now I was on a roll. I put my glass down in fear of spilling it on the pristine sofa and get on my knees to emphasize my frustration. “And the girl he quoted? Get this, I met her—Rebecca—at a job I did like a year ago? And we got along fabulously and I invited her to this party we threw right because she was new to the city and all that. She met my other friends and she fit in so well they invited her the next event. I got her into the group and now she’s talking shit about me with my fiancé behind my back!”

“She’s probably got a thing for your man,” Harry suggests.

“Oh she definitely does!” I’m animated as I continue. “She so does! I’ve caught her making eyes at him before, and laughing a lot whenever he makes a joke. I even mentioned it to him once but he said he didn’t notice.”

“He probably didn’t,” Harry shrugs.

“I know, the male species is a wonder. You get big flirts like you and then otherwise they’re completely oblivious.”

“I’ll have you know when I was a teen, a girl literally gave me a valentine cupcake and I just thought—well I knew she liked to bake, so I thought she just had extras. I didn’t understand why she didn’t speak to me the rest of the year.”

“No way,” I laugh—a lot because the wine was definitely sloshing around in my head, but also I couldn’t imagine Harry being that aloof. “I guess it comes with the ego territory. Were you less of a jerk as a kid?”

His jaw drops. “You just called me a jerk right now. To my face.”

“I did,” I say with glee. I stand to get the full picture of an offended Harry. “And I don’t regret it. So? Were you nicer as a kid?”

“No I’m not answering until you take that back.”

“What! You are a jerk…sometimes! I’m not taking it back!”

“You have to take it back otherwise I will cut you off on the wine.”

I take a step back and stumble as he speaks. Which makes me laugh more. “I think I should cut back. I am a hot mess.”

“At least you’re laughing,” Harry stands too. “It’s world’s different from this morning.”

Just like telling someone not to think of an elephant, I think of the elephant.

“Noo no don’t do that!” Harry rushes towards me and bends down to look me in the eye. “I liked it when you were smiling just now c’mon.”

“Well you reminded me why I was so upset-“

“Can’t stay grumpy, just give me another smile. One smile! Small teeny tiny smile—there it is!”

I can’t help it with his face in mine and the way he’s putting on a voice to get me to smile my face splits in a grin.

“You’re soooo annoying!” I push him but unstable and drunk I fall backwards.

I don’t know what happens next but I’m on the floor looking up into Harry’s concerned face.

“Y/n? Y/n!?”

“Yeah,” my head pounds as I try to make sense of where I am.

“Fuck,” I hear Harry say. He moves away and the overhead light attacks my eyes so I squeeze them shut.

I hear him, panicked, on the phone.

“No!” I try to call out. “M’fine! Don’t even worry-“

“Stay down Y/N,” he’s back by my side. I try to prove to him that I’m okay and sit up but a few inches off the ground and my head feels like it’s full of bees.

“So many bees,” I murmur as I go back down, now a pillow behind my head.

A few minutes later Harry’s helping me up gently. I tell him I wanted to throw up and he helps me to the toilet where I do. Gah. Why did I drink so much.

“I think I’ll head home now,” I hear myself saying to Harry like I was miles away.

“No,” his hands are around my shoulder and holding me upright as we walk out. The lift increases my nausea but I keep my eyes shut.

“I’m going home now,” I tell Harry when we get outside.

“No you’re getting checked out.”

“No!” I shove him away and nearly topple over myself. Why did he have to boss me around all the time? “Stop telling me what to do! My head hurts I’m going home!”

He tries to grab my hand but I yank it off. “Stop! Just stop!”

“Y/n,” Harry’s voice is low and comforting as he gets down in my ear. He smells nice too. “You passed out and you have a headache we have to get you checked out.”

“You’re no fun,” I cross my arms but follow him, only because my headache is so bad. As we get in the car I close my eyes shut as the lights assault them. Harry doesn’t let me sleep on the ride home even though his body is warm and steady beside me. I barely know where I am.

Harry’s POV:

I keep telling myself she would most likely be fine, just like the doctor reassured me but it’s hard not to beat myself up.

I shouldn’t have let her get that drunk, especially upset. I shouldn’t have gotten in her space and caused her to tumble back. I should have done something else.

The guilt is added to when I think of how I spoke to the doctor, demanding they do every scan and not to skip any. I hated who I became sometimes, when I pulled the famous card, but I thought it was necessary right now. Even y/n would give me a pass for using it.

I can’t stop replaying the thud as her head hit the hardwood floor, her eyelids fluttering as I rushed to her, her slack face when she lost consciousness for a moment.

It’s been hours since we came in. The doctor finally heads my way.

“Mr. Styles, your girlfriend is alright,” he holds up his hands before I’m fully standing.

I may have had to say she was my girlfriend after they wouldn’t let me have any say tonight…

“She’ll be alright, you did the right thing getting her here right away.”

“But?”

“No but,” he smiles. “Obviously it’s serious she has a moderate concussion but if she doesn’t exasperate any symptoms—takes it easy the next couple weeks, she’ll be right as rain. We can discharge her once the neurologist confirms. She’s just finishing with another patient right now-“

“She should stay overnight,” I cut him off. His cheeriness was starting to irritate me I felt like he wasn’t taking this seriously enough.

“Oh well,” he laughs but I know I’m irritating him right back. “She will be alright. I can provide you and her with a followup plan-“

“Doctor,” I say. “She’s staying overnight. If I need to rent a bed I’ll do that, tell me what I need to do, but she should stay under observation. Get the care she deserves.”

He pursues his lips, and I wait for him to agree.

“Yep,” he sighs. “I’ll tell the nurse. Just follow me and we can sort the details.”

We do that, I even take a selfie for the nurse’s daughter which grates on the doctor’s nerves even more. He leaves shortly after.

I get y/n’s room and walk there slowly, wondering how to apologize. Ever since December we’ve been playing a game of tennis with words and tonight I felt both of us relax onto the same note. Then this.

She’s sleeping when I get to her. My watch says 1am. She looks peaceful and it hurts even more.

The truth was despite acting like I didn’t, I did like Y/N but she was complicated, and the more I tried to untangle her web the more sticky things became for both of us. I didn’t want to make more mistakes than I have in the past so I’d kept my distance. Even if it hurt both of us.

Tonight was good though. Until it wasn’t. This was why I shouldn’t blur lines. You would think I’d have learned that by now.

I step by her bed, hesitating. Someone has wiped the remains of her makeup off and she looks so much younger. Like a sleeping cherub. My heart gives a squeeze.

I push back a strand of her hair, my hand wanting to do something. I settle for taking her hand in mine, it’s not the first time I’ve held it but like it always does, a flood of warmth rushes through me.

I never understood Victorian romances until her; just touching her hand got my blood pumping.

With a stroke of my thumb over her knuckles, she stirs. I freeze.

Her eyes flicker open, “Hey?”

My voice disappears. There’s too much that I want to say and nothing I’m allowed to say. Maybe a sorry. I open my mouth but she squeezes my hand. I forgot I was still holding hers.

“So much for doing nothing huh?” She cracks a smile and it breaks the marble I’d become encased in. I laugh and collapse onto the sliver of the bed.

“We should never do nothing again.”

“Nope,” she smiles, closing her eyes again.

“Y/N I’m really sorry for tonight. I feel awful-“

Her mouth parts. She was asleep.

I want to sit here with her until she wakes again, until the doctors kick us out. Something about seeing her so vulnerable here makes me want to confess the thing that’s been lodged in my chest for a long time.

I release her hand and move away from the bed. This was dangerous. Maybe I could wait in the waiting room until she’s released. Then take her home.

Something vibrates. It’s not my phone, and then I notice the purse I’d brought with us. Y/N’s.

I peek inside for the phone and her fiancé’s face takes up the screen. He looks younger. And then I remember, it’s like stepping out of the fog this night had put me in and into reality.

I pick up.

“Y/N it’s nearly 2 in the morning just tell me you’re alright? You haven’t been answering your texts I-“

“Hi,” I clear my throat and the line goes dead silent. I decide to continue. “Hey uh this is Harry. Styles. Uhm, don’t panic or anything because she is okay but she’s in hospital and-“

“What?” He comes back with a boom. “Why is she there what happened? Which hospital?”

I tell him which one, explain she bumped her head and I had to take her here. That the doctors said she would recover and be herself again soon. He simply swears and tells me he’d be there soon.

This was Y/N’s life. This was the right thing to do. Still, I stay in the room with my head in my hands and think about the whole evening again and again.

“Just tell me the bloody room…I don’t care about the time…”

The voice travels through as doors open and close in the hall and I look out. Grayson. Like a pitbull. I can see him through the rectangular window demanding to see Y/N.

I open the swinging doors and his nostrils flare as he spots me.

“Why the hell is he allowed in and not me?” He continues his tirade. “Does hospital policy not matter when it comes to the rich and famous now? I want to see her doctor and-“

The nurse turns to me, annoyed but before she can ask the question the doctor is out.

“What’s all this? Do you know the time sir, please follow me and we can talk-“

“I don’t want to fucking follow you. I want him gone and I want to see my fiancee.”

Looks are exchanged between the doctor and the nurse, finally landing on me. I imagine what they’re thinking—just another homewrecking famous rockstar, do we tell the fiancé or act cool?

“He should be able to see her,” I say in an even tone. I can feel the eyes on me, especially the laser beams from Gray.

“I thought-“

“Okay. Visitor pass him and let him in,” the doctor cuts his nurse off as she stares at me. Maybe her daughter wouldn’t get that photo tonight after all, and instead be told to pick better role models. It doesn’t matter to me. Not tonight.

I watch Gray get sorted, watch him walk down and to Y/N’s room. To his fiancée’s room.

I wonder how he feels, fighting with her last night just for y/n to end up here tonight. I wonder if that’s why he was so vocal tonight—the guilt.

But I suspected he was the kind of man that called himself easy-going and only got this raucous when another man was threatening his public image. It was pretty clear the hospital staff thought we had some pseudo-relationship arrangement. I don’t think Duran was daft enough to miss that.

Plus, I’d been the one to bring her here not him.

With a big sigh I take my phone out to call a taxi. It was my turn to go home.

I text Y/N from the car, tell her to rest over the weekend and let me know how she feels Monday morning. She could take the whole week off if she wanted but I also knew her and knew she would try to come back asap.

I try to piece back the marble armour I wore before tonight, it’s ill-fitting and hurts to get on but I do it anyway. This was why I couldn’t be the person Y/N wanted me to be; I tried to mix parts of my life together and it would only end with shite.

Y/N’s POV:

I don’t know who this man in front of me was. Or actually, I hadn’t seen him a long time.

I’d been discharged from the hospital on Saturday morning with odd looks all around. Maybe because Harry brought me in? And ever since, Grayson has been doting on me. Doting.

“Did you want anything specific?” Gray stands at the foot of the bed, asking me what he should make me for breakfast. The last time he made me a special breakfast was…last summer?

“I wouldn’t say no to pancakes?” I reply. “I looove your chocolate chip pancakes.”

“I’ll get it started,” he walks over to kiss my temple and leaves.

The weirdest part is that I feel weird; I don’t know why but Gray doting on me like this made me feel claustrophobic and…weird!

I look out the window to the overcast sky. Same, I think. At least for a Sunday, it felt fitting.

I pick up my phone and check the last response from Harry. Since I got discharged he’d been texting me to see how I was feeling. I think he was feeling guilty even though I told him it wasn’t his fault.

I tried not to drink when I was upset because back in uni it led to some shitty situations but the other night I’d overstepped my rule and done this anyway. And paid for it. I should have known better. And after the absolute misery of yesterday’s aftermath—the migraine and the vertigo and the completely lack of appetite, I don’t think I’ll be doing that again. Ever.

Today I feel a lot better. I still have a headache and I’m looking forward to breakfast with my painkiller, but the light doesn’t hurt as much and the nausea only comes back when I do too much.

You: I’ll be back in no time. Feeling better

Harry: I want you to feel the best so I’m banning you from working until Wed. And that’s conditional on you feeling better

Y: Doc said I can resume a lowkey version of my life after 48hrs

H: I didn’t like that doc. take my advice instead

Y: when did you get your md

H: same time you got yours

Y: I have an md?

H: being stubborn 101

Y: your jokes are a lot better when you text

H: cuz you’re not distracted by my face

Y: ooookay I’m no longer giving you the platform byeee

He was sassy, apparently. I never got this side of him before.

I read through the convo again and smile. But it hits me that it sounded like flirting. And that would be incredibly inappropriate. So I shove my phone in my bedside drawer and inch out of bed to join Gray.

We spend the day talking about a lot, but not about what we should talk about. Which, with the way I was feeling, was fine by me. At the same time it felt like we were both politely playing a role neither of us could put our hearts into. It felt shitty.

Gray has a session around 4 and I crawl back into bed, putting on a romcom I’ve watched a million times for comfort.

My body feels heavy and it has nothing to do with the concussion. The last couple days and my current relationship with Gray casts a shadow over my thoughts. I felt like making any decision was like wading through quicksand and running away just sounded better.

I rub my temples, hoping like a genie’s lamp, I could get an omnipotent spirit cast out and grant me easy wishes. I’d wish for things to go back to normal, for my heart not to be such a wretched thing. For clarity.

I pick up my phone and scroll to the one person I had run away from and have missed since. I didn’t talk to her very often but I thought I could use her no-nonsense approach.

My mom frets when I tell her what had happened. She goes quiet as I tell her I’d gotten drunk to forget about the troubles in my relationship.

“Relationships go through a lot of phases. It’s like going through those cave tunnels all made of rock and you gotta squeeze really tight sometimes just to fit through and continue on.”

“That is an amazing comparison mom, but I don’t know if this is one of those times. It feels like Gray’s already given up on us.”

“Well it’s been a long time he’s waited.”

“But he never said. He never talked to me.”

She sighs. “Your Grayson sure is a contemplative son of a bitch isn’t he?”

I laugh a little too hard and feel a pulse in my head. “I know. But then today he was so dang sweet—since I got home. He was so overprotective. And he made me breakfast mom and it made me realize I haven’t had that Gray in a long time.”

She’s silent on the other end. She knew there was more. How did I ever think, as a teen, my mom didn’t understand me? I think I just never understood her.

“But it felt weird.” I continue. “I feel horrible for saying it but I felt weird!”

“Was there heart?” She asks gently.

There wasn’t.

That’s what it was. And my heart weeps. All those actions without feelings.

“Have you thought about coming home?” Mom asks when the silence stretches. She always asked and I was the worst daughter in the world for never going back. The last time was when I graduated, for 2 weeks in which my family drove me crazy and I had been crazy in love with Gray and eager to get back to him.

“Maybe,” I close my eyes and slide down into bed.

“Your brother’s new girlfriend reminds me of that friend you had where she came on our camping trip and cried the whole time? What was her name?”

“Deanna? Mom I stayed friends with her all through high school! She was just very anxious.”

“I know! His girlfriend’s always darting about, jumping at tiny things. Reminds me of her.”

“Well Jace better be treating her right.”

“He does,” mom’s voice raises. “You should see them together. It’s cute but they’re still teenaged loves so I try not to break his bubble too much.”

Mom had definitely relaxed a lot since I was a teen. She had practically chased my first boyfriend away.

“Remember your first boyfriend?” She asks and I shout how I was remembering that too. We end up talking about old memories, and I feel a little more known and a little less lonely when I hang up.

Gray and I order takeout and I try to watch a movie with him but the strain on my eyes gets too much. I tell him I was going to bed and insist that he stays and finishes. I didn’t feel like watching him play boyfriend.

I’m eager to get back to work, for next week when I can go to Scotland for the MV. The eagerness comes from guilt but I carry both as I fall asleep.

***

I feel like a kid at Disneyland. Or maybe a Disney adult. Either way, I’m blown away getting to watch this MV come to life.

It’s long hours, a lot of waiting, and some shouting. But everything else is magic.

I came back to work last Thursday and other than an ear-splitting headache on the flight and a low-grade one when I stared at a screen too long, I was on my way to normal. When I got back to work Harry kept making excuses for me so I could work from the office but I refused to be treated differently and eventually he relented.

“It’s so freaking cold!” I jump up and down beside Harry by the cliffside. He’s just wrapped up a scene and the crew was taking a look at the footage to see if they needed anything more in this spot.

“Why don’t you put on more layers? Do you want an extra coat the crew might have-“

“No!” I continue wriggling around. “I’m heading back to the car in a few. This is an amazing view.”

“Isn’t it,” Harry turns to the sea that’s churning away much like my own heart these days. It feels calming to see it physically somewhere else.

We stand in silence except for my occasional teeth chattering and stare out to the view.

“Have you seen more of it?” Harry motions to the cameras. “What do you think?”

On this trip I’ve been giving my honest opinion, and I know I’ve offended Harry at least once but I didn’t come all the way here for my dream experience only to stroke his ego.

I tell him my take. We talk about the overall storyline about belonging and sacrifice until we’re interrupted with two hands holding out hot teas.

“You both looked cold,” the woman says. She was another assistant on set and I’m not sure what to do being waited on as a PA myself.

“Oh, thank you!” I make sure she knows I appreciate it. “That’s…that’s super kind thanks!”

She throws us both a smile and I stare at my cup, the heat tingling on my cold fingertips.

“Friendship and belonging yeah,” Harry starts up again.

“Yeah but also I like how you—your character, whatever, knows when it’s time to leave for his better growth. Sacrifice with his friend and sacrifice with the only home he’s known. Plus that’s a comfortable outfit.”

I tap a button on Harry’s jumpsuit. He grins. “You can have it.”

“I would be drowning in that you’re a lot taller.”

“We can have it altered,” he says. A shiver runs through me at we. I blame it on the cold.

I sip the tea now that it’s not scalding and find it’s a lot cooler. The open air, I guess.

“So you really love all this,” Harry says. “You weren’t joking about that excitement.”

“No I told you!” I flash to the night we did “nothing” which feels long ago. “I have a vivid imagination when it comes to music and I spent any spare courses on film so now I can interpret the heck out of any song and music video like my life depends on it.”

“We should get you back there,” he motions to the crew. “Get you on board.”

“Would I get the little clipboard and clapper?”

“Yeah!”

“Goals,” I sigh.

Little did I know, by Saturday as we’re filming our final scene one of the crew members hands me the clapper. He tells me I’m supposed to cut the final scene. I stare at him, thinking I misheard.

The clapboard hangs between us. He shakes it a little and I take it. It’s heavier than I thought.

“Harry asked if you can cut for the final scene, see the man behind the camera? He’ll look to you and give you the nod. Then you step in front and just do the thing.”

“Oh…” I’m still staring at the thing in my hand. My palms feel sweaty like it’s going to crash to the ground and break in two but that thought gets me to hold it closer. “Thanks.”

“Yep,” the guy walks away and I stare at the scene being filmed. Slowly I walk closer to the cameraman and he glances at me, notices the clapper, and smiles holding up two fingers.

He whispers something to someone beside him and they change the lighting. Harry walks off “screen” and I try to catch his eye to show him what I had. We catch it briefly and he winks before walking back onto the screen.

Oh my god! My heart is racing as I hold it in my hands. I had to chill. Or I’m gonna make a mess of things. It’s just a clapperboard and you’re saying one word!

Two minutes. I manage to calm down enough and when I get the signal I step in front of the camera and, as I see it later on, with the biggest grin on my face I clap down and yell “cut!”

Harry lets out a whoop and the crew cheers as the filming wraps up. I’m sure my eyes are wide as saucers as I go to Harry. He puts an arm around me and pulls me in, laughing because I tell him my heart is racing and how does he do tours when just that made me shaky.

“It gets easier,” we walk now with his arm around my shoulder. “One day you’ll be behind the camera shouting at me to move places.”

“Oooh getting to boss you around and get paid for it?” I look up at him and my breath catches because he’s handsome at every bloody angle. “Sign me up.”

He let me go and gives me a few tsks. Then he gets his phone and tells me to pose with the clapper and I do it happily. The picture shows a grinning girl with pure delight on her face.

“I’ll put that as your contact photo right,” Harry says as he gets into a jacket. “And that way at least when you call me with bad news I get to see a smile beforehand.”

“Har har,” I roll my eyes but I don’t hate the idea.

A lot of the crew decide to go out for drinks and dinner and Harry passes but I decide to go. I’d met some friendly faces and I would miss working with them, miss the overall energy, when we got back to London.

As I fall asleep that night, full and content, I realize I hadn’t texted Gray all day. I wake to check my phone and see he’d sent a text a few hours ago.

Sorry I was out for lunch with the crew. Babe it was sooooo fun I can’t wait to show you pictures when I get home.

I read the rest of his message asking how I was. I tell him my headache was gone and ask him about his week but I’ve fallen asleep before he can respond.

***

The morning I have to leave for tour I wake up way too early. Too much nervous excitement. I’d already brushed and checked my luggage was packed before crawling back into bed waiting for Gray to wake.

I watch him sleep, my eyes following the familiar contours of his face. We’d been making an effort at rebuilding the relationship since we agreed we at least had to give it a try after I got home from Scotland a month ago. On one hand it feels like starting a new relationship and also breathing easier because we were both on the same page. On the other, we’d finally started planning the wedding!

I would miss him, nearly 3 weeks away which is the longest we’ve been apart since we got together. Then I’d be home for 2 weeks, and away for the last week before Harry finishes with a couple shows in London. It was going to be epic and crazy as exhausted as I’ve been.

I huddle close to Gray and he stirs slightly but I kiss his neck to wake him.

“Hey,” he mumbles in his sleep.

“Morning,” I press another kiss to his face.

“What time?” He moves his head to kiss me back.

“Hmmm half past 7?”

He grumbles about it being so early but it stops shortly after with both of my legs on either side of him and my hair curtaining our faces.

“M’gonna miss your snooty face,” I say with another kiss. He finally opens his eyes and his hand comes up to hold my chin.

“I’ll be the one here missing you.”

“I’ll call every chance I get.”

“You’ll get to see so many new cities,” he says.

“Barely but I’m gonna try to make the most of it,” the travel schedule was hectic but I know there were a couple slower days I could use to explore cities. If I wasn’t completely exhausted.

“You’ll have a lot of fun,” he pushes my hair behind my ear.

“Remember Josie’s coming this weekend to stay the week.” Gray’s sister had taken the opportunity of a semi-empty flat to stay here while she studied for mid-terms. I had encouraged it so Gray felt less lonely.

“She’s gonna drive me crazy,” he huffs.

“Just behave,” I warn him.

“I don’t know how,” he smiles, rolling us around so he’s on top and showing me what misbehaving means. I don’t mind it a bit.

After a quick shower together we head out to the airport, Harry offered to pick me up on his way but I wanted to make sure I spent as much time with Gray as possible so he doesn’t feel like I was leaving him like before. I hoped he knew, at least, the effort I was making.

***

Stockholm, Hamburg, Oslo, and Copenhagen in one week. It was exhilarating and exhausting and hectic and so fulfilling.

I had seen Harry at small shows before but on the big stage he has a presence with a capital P. It’s amazing watching him perform and dance and be charming all over. He could be cheeky yet command the crowd at the same time. And despite all these sides he’s never inauthentic.

For the first time I’m able to take somewhat of a backseat. He already had his manager, tour manager, stylist, and tour chef with him to manage most aspects I would regularly. I became sort of an extra hand when I wasn’t having sit-down hours. That’s what I called the times I was sitting on the laptop sorting out future timelines for Harry’s life (and my wedding).

But I loved it. I’d pick a cafe close to our hotel and spend a few hours working. I’d call Gray during these times and if he was free we’d catch up on all I saw and he’d share stories with me until Josie crashed the conversation with stories of her own.

My eye bags require more concealer than usual and my body begs for nutrition but otherwise I love every second.

I’m back from my sit-down hours and get off the lift. Harry and his team were placed in the same hotel just down the hall from each other. As I approach my own door one of Harry’s band mates rushes out of his door looking stressed.

“He’s in a mood,” she huffs. “Don’t go in there.”

“Did something happen?” I ask.

She shrugs, “he gets this way. Usually at the start of tour I don’t know why. Kinda snappy just…give him space.”

I do as she says but the next morning as we wait to board our early flight to Paris he continues to be a dick to everyone.

“Maybe take a nap on the flight Haz,” one of his bandmates suggest. “We’re all bloody tired don’t be such a grump.”

“I don’t need a bloody nap stop treating me like a child.”

“What to do when you act like one.”

“You know what-“

“Woah hey c’mon.”

I startle at the commotion, I was starting to doze off but Harry rushing out of his seat and someone else stepping between him and Mitch wakes me entirely.

“Let’s stand there get some space.” Niji recommends.

Everyone follows the group away and it’s Harry, myself, and my bag left.

He glances at me, “Don’t you start too.”

“I wasn’t…”

“I could see it in your face.”

“What the hell? I was just napping I don’t even know what’s going on except that you really are being a dick.”

“There you go!” He points. “I knew you wanted to say it.”

“Guess I’m joining the others…” I pick up my bag and walk to everyone else. They’re all venting their frustrations for Harry and comfort me that he was an asshole to everyone.

It gets worse on the flight when our pilot announces we couldn’t land in Paris.

“What’s going on?” I ask our hostess.

“The weather, we apologize for the inconvenience folks but there is high winds and a lot of fog so it’s not safe to fly.”

“I have a show tonight,” Harry stands and starts to advance on the poor woman. “I need to be in Paris before 4 where are we landing?!”

“Sir we’ll be landing in the Lille airport. This is good because we’re only a few hours from the city-“

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry runs his hand through his hair.

“I understand,” the woman looks back at me and I nod, letting her know I got it.

“Harry we’ll only be delayed by a few hours-“

“I don’t have time for a few hours. We need to set up and run tests in Paris! We were supposed to be there yesterday but somebody booked the wrong shit!”

It was true, his tour manager had booked us for Monday morning rather than Sunday morning but at the time it hadn’t been a big deal since the show was 7 on Monday and we got an extra day to relax. Now it made things more stressful.

“Fuck this,” Harry mutters. The other members on the plane roll their eyes and put on headphones, sighing and looking out the window. It was obvious to everyone but Harry that this was just a minor setback.

I decide to be the idiot who enters the lion’s cage. Harry sits in the back of the plane jiggling his leg and trying to connect his phone to service.

“Are you trying to call Morgan?” I ask.

“No I’m trying to call the pope.”

“He might be sleeping.”

He looks up at me and if I wasn’t aware of how stressed he was I would laugh. Confused doesn’t even cover his expression.

“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to get to the show-“

“We have like a five hour wiggle room it’s just a minor-“

“I can’t perform thrown off like this!”

“There’s no reason to be thrown off!” I try to keep my volume contained but I can feel eyes on my back.

“I don’t need you right now just go.”

“So I guess the one week rule is true.” I mutter.

“What’s that?” He asks with an i-dare-you expression.

“I said the one week rule of you being an asshole on tour, I guess that was true. I wish someone told me I would have skipped it.”

“Well you could have skipped the whole thing and nobody would notice.”

His comeback is muttered but cuts like a machete and I feel like the words were physically slung at me. I stand there stunned, my heart sinking as he continues to fiddle with his phone until the call connects.

The shock wears off quickly leaving me with the familiar heat of anger. This was how I reacted to Harry and his dickish ways. How dare he? Why the fuck does he think it’s okay to treat me like this when he wanted? I clench my fist as his voice rises with Morgan.

But beneath the anger is a raw hurt, his words struck a nerve. The same one Gray had struck once. I was replaceable, and all the efforts I’ve put into my career were unimportant and unappreciated.

I snatch the phone from Harry, annoyed at hearing him talk at Morgan.

“Hey Morgan it’s Y/N, yeah it’s a minor inconvenience but if you can get a bus or something to the airport it should be…”

I look to the hostess and she flashes me two fingers and a shake of her hand.

“About 2 hours to get into the city.” I finish. I nod along to Morgan’s questions and repeat details back. “Yeah just text me on my phone, not Harry’s. We’ll sort this out.”

“Thank you y/n. I’m really glad you’re there today.”

The words are a feather on a pile of nails, it’s nice to hear but Harry’s cruel words still ring in my ear.

I hand the phone back to him, expecting a thank you or an apology, but he just takes it and slinks down in his seat.

“It’s her isn’t it?” Sarah gets up on her seat on her knees to look back at Harry. I pause as I walk up the aisle. Is was who?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry mutters with his eyes glued to his screen.

“It is,” someone else says.

“Who?” Claire asks.

“Don’t take his mood personally,” Sarah says to me. “Paris is a touchy city for him.”

“Do you guys ever shut up?” Harry asks.

“No that’s why we’re your crew,” Mitch responds.

“We understand,” Sarah continues. Who was she talking about!? “Just don’t take it out on us. It’s not nice.”

Harry doesn’t respond but I sense a deflating happening on his side. Sarah’s words had gotten through to him but they’d just made me super curious.

I get filled in as we wait at the airport for our bus—Morgan had saved the day.

I hear about Harry’s french lover and how he got his heart broken a couple years ago. How the last time they were in France he had disappeared for a day and they’re all sure he visited her. How he can’t go to Paris without getting in a mood, either because he doesn’t get to see her or he’s anxious about seeing her.

“That’s like a city-specific booty-call.”

“Kinda,” Sarah laughs. “But I think he grew really attached to her so it’s a bit—he’s coming back.”

Harry stomps back to where we are, a tray of coffee in his hands. His team accepts it without a word. The world’s most famous non-verbal apology.

I watch him wearily. I still wanted a verbal apology from him, was that crazy? What he said was deeply hurtful. And hearing about his French lover makes me feel a way that I don’t like so I shut it out. I stick to the anger instead. It was easier.

He starts to warm up as we board the bus, cracking jokes with his band. I pick a seat near the front and stay there with my headphones. Aside from answering Morgan’s texts I pretend to be asleep. Eventually I do.

Someone flicks my hat, “C’mon sleepyhead! We’re in the city of love.”

“Wha?” There’s a crick in my neck and I feel rusty. But Harry’s right, we’d landed in Paris. He hovers above my seat with a jovial smile but it dies the longer I don’t return it. Serves him right. He doesn’t get to be cruel and wipe it away with coffee and a joke.

He gets the hint and boards off. I grab the last of the bags and join the group in the lobby where Morgan greets Harry like his long lost son.

“The trials aren’t over just yet,” he cringes. “I don’t know why Paris keeps fucking with me but we’re booked tight for rooms.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asks.

“Uhm well,” Morgan clears his throat. “The hotel overbooked. We have 3 rooms between the 8 of us. Luckily I have a mate who lives in town so I’ll crash at his. The rest of you need to share.”

“Morgan you’re fucking with me,” someone groans.

“No I’m sorry. I booked 5 with an en-suite but they screwed up. They’re refunding us half—I fought for that at least. I can use that to put others in another hotel if you’d like but so far I’ve only managed one room with two doubles.”

“Claire and I can share,” Sarah says.

“Good, Mitch you good with the boys?”

“I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Uh y/n…would you like me to book you an extra room somewhere? I don’t want you to be far from the team-“

“She’ll stay with me.” Harry says. “I’m performing tonight and then we’re moving to Amsterdam tomorrow afternoon so…”

I squirm a little as all eyes fall to me. Cool. Casual. “Sure.”

“Sorted! Let’s get these bags up and out of the way. I’ll have a car waiting down here in a half hour so you can all freshen up and meet me again.”

We trudge along and get off on our respective floors.

“The truth is,” Harry says as we scan ourselves into our room. “I’m probably not even gonna use the bed for the night so it’s all yours.”

“Oh,” I look around the room. It’s got a french touch and a lush queen in the middle. I could deal with not having to share it. I’m sure my fiancé back home would be happier too. Even though I want to ask why I don’t. “Okay.”

We settle our things in silence and a part of me wants to break it and start talking about the ride and Paris but I’m still not over his earlier behaviour so I continue giving the bare minimum. He doesn’t seem to care.

We head off for tests and I end up falling asleep in one of the booths. The tiredness was really creeping up. I could sleep through all the noise the band was making.

A particularly loud screeching from feedback wakes me up. I look down to the group, everyone’s mostly broken up while tech crew tapes down some wires and connects equipment. Harry sits on the edge of the stage, swinging his feet and texting away at his phone. He’s different from the grump this morning. He’s lighter.

Charlie catches me looking and waves, I wave back. There’s a pit in my stomach that grows heavier as the day passes into night.

Paris is not the loudest but super engaged. Everyone has some reference to Harry adorned on their clothing or their face and I can tell Harry has a special connection to the group.

“And finally,” Harry says into the mic. “This is a special song for my French friends. Tonight has been a blessing and I want to merci beaucoup for showing up!”

The crowd cheers as the intro to his song comes on. I listen to the lyrics for the first time since hearing the song last year and connect the dots to what Sarah said earlier. Maybe this was the girl. Maybe this was why he wasn’t sleeping at the hotel tonight.

As we’re leaving the venue and I’m going through a mental list of everything we could have forgotten, we spot a familiar face around back.

“Riley?” Mitch spots him first. “Is that you mate?”

“Hey,” Riley like, Harry’s old assistant Riley is standing with a couple other people who are having a smoke. He squashes his and greets the band who apparently still feel fondly when it comes to him. He looks the exact same but my feelings towards him are curdled after knowing what he’s like and how he left us high and dry.

That leaves Harry and I still hovering by the entrance alone, staring at the reunion by the time Riley comes up to us. I guess the band knew his friends because they get to chatting. I remember then, Riley ditched Harry to work for one of his friends. Must be a small world.

“Why the long face you two, c’mon still not holding a grudge are we?”

“Riley,” Harry addresses him. I stay silent, watching Riley from where I stand behind Harry.

“Nice to see Y/N’s still sticking around. How are you liking tour life?”

“Did you come to the show?” I find my voice.

“Yeah,” he nods all friendly like this was casual and he’s done nothing wrong ever. “I might be biased because I worked for the guy but Harry Styles is one of my top artist. And I’m in Paris until the Fall so why not come support him.”

“Well,” Harry says in the same deadpan voice. “Thanks for the support Riley.”

Riley glances over at him, smug. He knows he’s annoying Harry. So maybe I wasn’t the only one who got enjoyment out of doing that.

“Oh c’mon you’re still upset with me jumping ship? It’s been months! Y/N we’re cool right-“

Riley moves to walk past Harry and to me but Harry side-steps to stay in his way. I look at Harry. So does Riley, confusion sliding away to amusement.

“Oh I see,” he steps back, arms crossed. “Harry you sly dog you did it again.”

“We’re going now,” Harry says. “Try not to show up at any other shows.”

Harry tried to leave and I take the few steps to follow but Riley starts again.

“So y/n you fell for his trick too? I’m disappointed I thought you were immune.” Riley continues. “How’d he get you to the bedroom? Lots of booze? Or did you not even make it to the bedroom? Was it being treated like shit that did it for you?”

“What?” Now in the middle, I look between the two, wondering how this conversation took such a bizarre turn.

“You have some obsession with me Riley?” Harry steps back towards us. “Because you sure enjoy making up stories in your head with me starring in it. Don’t rope y/n into them either.”

“Not all stories,” Riley stays smug. “Some of them I’ve seen with my own eyes.”

They had to be talking about the last PA. The story Riley told me. Which means he thinks I…

“You really should watch what you talk about,” Harry reminds him.

Riley turns his attention to me, “Y/N I thought I warned you good enough. But I guess you put out as easily as the last one.”

“Riley whatever drama you’re trying to-“

“Mate,” Harry gets in Riley’s face so he can’t even look at me. I go quiet. “Get the fuck out of my sight before I get security to kick you out permanently.”

“Being the knight in shining armour doesn’t really suit you Haz,” Riley says. With one final judgemental look thrown my way he walks away. I have to lay a hand on Harry’s arm just to keep him from lunging at him but as soon as my hand makes contact he brushes me away.

This whole interaction was ego-bruising. “Why did he think-“

“Ignore him.” Harry cuts me off, his back still to me. His band, having watched the final scene unfold, now awkwardly shuffles back to us. “You okay?”

“Yeah but why-“

“Good.”

He cuts me off from asking anything and I don’t get to push because the group tries to defuse the situation by changing the subject. That includes the girls inviting me for drinks at their favourite parisian place. Harry disappears and so do those answers.

I try to poke whether the girls at dinner knew anything about his last PA but they barely met her. So I’m forced to eat oysters when they find out I’d never had them and the subject changes quickly to new and other things.

“So oysters thumbs up or down?” I’m asked as I slowly eat another.

“Weird texture…ehh?” I hover my thumb in the middle.

“Well too bad your partner—what’s his name again?” They ask. I tell her. “Ooh good name. Too bad Grayson isn’t here to cash in on all these oysters.”

They laugh and I think I’m not drunk enough to laugh as much with.

It’s the wee hours of the morning by the time we get back to the hotel. I crash alone as soon as my head hits the pillow.

***

After three weeks of tour I’m ecstatic to get back home. I wanted to sleep in the same bed for more than a day, I wanted a shower with even temperature, and I wanted a home-cooked meal.

And I wanted Gray.

I even catch an earlier flight—the night before rather than the next morning. I build up surprising Gray so much that I end up being the one who’s surprised when I come home to an empty flat.

I double check I’d set my phone back to the right time but it’s nearly 11. He must be out with friends, not a client.

I want to call him but still hold the idea of a surprise so I take a shower instead, put a load of laundry in, and make myself a sandwich. I crawl into bed at 1, still no Gray.

I end up tapping through our friends’ stories and find him in one. At least I knew where he was. But 2/3 photos I can find of him, Bex is standing too close for comfort.

I can tell by the photos there’s nothing going on. From his end. The most contact they have is his arm around her shoulder but for some reason all of this makes me mad. I’d broken it down to him that he couldn’t talk with people who had a thing for him because they would only give biased advice. But he didn’t listen. He said I was reading into it too much. And here she was, gazing up at him in every damn photo.

I hate that I wasn’t even home for a couple hours and already found something to annoy me.

I must have fallen asleep shortly after because I wake to poking on my side.

“Y/n? Is that really you? Y/n? Y/n?”

Gray.

“Hi,” I turn in bed. “I’m home early.”

“Shit!” He stands and sways back slightly. Wow, he was pissed. I hadn’t seen him this inebriated in a hot minute. “You didn’t say!”

“I know I-“

“I thought I imagined you.”

“Nope all here,” I grit my teeth. Why was I annoyed at my boyfriend for having a life, I scold myself.

Why is he so drunk and is this a new thing or did he only get this way cuz I’m not around?

“You finally came back to me,” he slurs. He smells like a brewery as he climbs into bed and I wish I could force a shower on him but I get swept up in his arms. “Hey you were right by the way.”

“About?”

“About.”

“Gray! What was I right about?”

“I’m getting to it! You. Were right. About Bex.”

“H-how do you know?” Weird coincidence. Or not?

“Sheshe she tried to kiss me!” He falls back laughing in bed. “I said nooo cuz I have a fiancée. Y/N. Oops. She was maaad.”

My heart drops. I knew it. That little bitch! And she had to go and try to kiss my man when he’s drunk! I officially didn’t like her. And the story itself adds to my irritation.

“Wow. Crazy. I’m tired as hell so I’m going to bed.”

I turn and leave my back to Gray. I didn’t want to see him this drunk, this chill about someone I warned him about trying to kiss him.

He splays on the bed where he is, draping an arm over me and pretty soon I hear his even breathing. That annoys me too, that he could fall asleep so quick. His arm is a weight over my body and I feel like I’m sinking into the bed and out of view.

***

It’s like Grayson and I have forgotten how to live with each other.

What starts out as minor annoyances turn into bickering pretty quickly. Our 1 bedroom flat begins to feel cramped and I desperately try to cling onto the idea of us because I can’t fathom us fizzling out like this but my fingernails are raw from scraping threads.

Work is the easiest it’s been in a while. With no set working hours I just spend a few hours everyday doing admin and running errands. Otherwise, unless somebody calls me I’m free.

I thought it would be great. So much free time with Gray, we could continue planning the wedding and catch up again. But he busies himself with work, and when we go on dates he doesn’t make much of an effort to talk. It’s like getting to know him all over again except he’s a broodier version of himself. It makes me mad and I end up picking fights.

I book brunch with some of the girls on the last Saturday I’m home, thinking it might help to have space from Gray and see other people. I thought everything would be fine. And it is, on a surface level—they treat me perfectly normal.

Except the only time they gave me space to talk about myself went something like this,

“So Y/N how are you? Busy touring how is that?”

“Oh yeah it was great! Really taxing but fulfilling too. I went to so many cities I haven’t visited even though I’ve been in London for like 7 years? Copenhagen was one of my fave-

“Ooh. Yeah I really want to visit Copenhagen this summer.”

“Oh I love Copenhagen…”

And I was officially asked out of sharing my own life. The rest of brunch was me reacting to everyone else’s stories and having the subject change quickly after I brought up anything about myself. When I mentioned Gray casually, I could feel the judgement. It’s like they were waiting on me to complain about him so they could pounce. It’s a weird and tiring energy.

As we all say our goodbyes I manage to catch Rebecca alone.

“Hey Bex,” I stop her on the edge of the group. “I know we haven’t talked much lately but I just want to say I don’t appreciate the moves you’re making on Gray.”

She raises a brow, “moves?”

“He told me you tried to kiss him. Those kinds of moves.”

Her face pinches. “Well someone has to make some.”

“Excuse me?” She tries to walk away but I rush to step in front of her.

“It’s no secret you and Gray are on the road to a breakup,” she has the audacity to look judgey in that moment and I want to slap the look off her face.

“What the fuck do you know about me and Gray? Back. Off.”

“Hey what’s going on?” One of our other friends drifts towards us and I notice they’re all looking our way.

“Just a friendly chat,” I say with sarcasm you can’t miss. At the same time Bex responds, “Y/n’s being delusional.”

I was going to get physical, I step back towards her but our friends get between us. I think they knew uni me, and knew I wasn’t afraid of confrontation.

“What the fuck y/n?” I was so tired of the look on their faces, like I was crazy.

“She tried to kiss Gray!” I reveal. “Last week! I’m just telling her to back off and I have every right to!”

It’s news to them. They turn to Bex who’s fidgeting with her sweater as a flush creeps up her neck.

“I-I he did! He tried to kiss me!”

I snort, “I don’t have time for your bullshit Rebecca. I’ve gotta go.”

“Oh yeah we all know you don’t have time y/n, you’re so busy these days.”

“Bex!” Someone scolds her.

“Somebody better teach her hand to keep her hand over her mouth because I will get through all of you if it means getting to her. You know you guys don’t know shit about my life. And you don’t even care to these days! Just because Gray told his sob side you guys treat me like-like shit!”

“That’s not true-“

“It is! You don’t even know my side! And I don’t care to explain because you lot are supposed to be our friends, not the judge and jury of my relationship.”

They stare blankly at me and nobody denies it so I continue: “I try so hard to stay involved in your lives knowing I can’t make it to half of our parties, I’m always messaging you guys and trying to stay on top of your socials to know what’s going on in your lives. I feel like I make all the effort and I’m just made the pariah.”

It feels good getting it off my chest. It feels amazing. I feel like I’m breathing an actual lungful of air now.

“We’re sorry if we made you feel that way.” I look at who’s said this. One of my oldest friends from uni. I scoff.

“You’re sorry if you made me feel that way?! I just said you did!”

“Sorry,” she says, quieter.

“Y’know it’s…it’s disappointing. I thought, when we became best friends first year of uni nothing could shake the bond we had. Apparently a man you met 3 years ago who vented to you about your best friend was just the thing.” All their faces are small and nobody makes eye contact with me. “Anyway, I do have to go. I have an appointment. Let’s not do this again.”

I walk away, proud of myself for saying what I had to and getting it off my chest. For sticking up for myself.

But the farther away I get, the more the adrenaline crashes through me and I end up walking onto the tube on shaky legs and collapsing in my seat. The reality of what’s happened falls into my lap and I see a bunch of burned bridges.

I spend a couple extra hours out after my appointment. I’m not going anywhere in particular, I let my feet carry me through the city as my mind continues to whir.

Harry texts me, asking me to stop by his place before I fly back for tour tomorrow evening. Apparently the concierge needed all his mail picked up and he needed a few of the items. It annoys me that he waited last minute to ask.

When I get home at 4, Gray’s vacuuming the flat. He stops it when I come in.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How was brunch?”

It’s the way he asks. I know he knows. Which means a group chat exists with our friends and him without me. It feels like another betrayal. Who keeps their partner out deliberately? Who opens up their relationship like a hockey net, open for anyone to take shots at?

“Why’re you asking?” I feel another fight coming.

“I can’t ask you how brunch went?”

“Did you hear something? Let me guess, did Bex snitch?”

“No, chill out why would Bex snitch?”

“Grayson,” I look at him deadpan. “Don’t bullshit me. If you have any respect for me, which I know now is not a lot, don’t bullshit me.”

He sighs but doesn’t say anything more. Doesn’t lie and doesn’t tell the truth.

“So?” I ask. “Is there like a group chat or something?”

“Let’s just drop it-“

“No! I’m not dropping this when you brought it up. So is there? Did you disrespect me in front of all our friends by talking shit, and then do it even more by allowing them to ice me out in a group chat you knew I wasn’t part of?”

He doesn’t respond. My temper flares.

“The hurtful part isn’t even not being part of the chat, it’s that you didn’t tell me.”

It makes sense now. I was always initiating birthday messages there or privately, thinking everyone was forgetting to wish each other. Now I know I was public fool number one keeping that convo alive when they were probably all wishing each other elsewhere. God. I was an idiot!

“Look I’m sorry y/n, after you stopped showing up to things they just made a new one so they don’t bother you.”

“Oh is that why? Because that was active up until a few months ago. So according to the timeline it was probably when you fucked up and talked shit about me to all our friends and they decided I was a bitch and they should all cancel me! Well I hope you’re happy Gray!”

“I’m not! I’m sorry I didn’t realize-“

“Stop!” I slam my hand into the wall and it hurts harder than I anticipated but I bite back the pain. “Just admit it! You want to paint me as the bad guy so fucking hard, and I am in some ways I know I’m far from perfect Gray! But instead of talking to me like normal fucking people do, you just iced me out and then isolated me from the only friends I’ve ever made in this stupid fucking city!”

I can’t help the tears now even though I don’t want to cry. I want to rage and scream and throw things about but the hurt is bigger and it bubbles over the pot and sears my heart.

I leave my shopping bags where I’ve dropped them and walk back out of the door before he can come up with a response. I couldn’t stand to look at his face. He’s betrayed me over and over and the whole time I was desperately trying to show him I hadn’t changed and I loved him.

I walk the 40 minute to Harry’s and the early evening air helps me learn how to breathe again. I take in gulps of it and try not to cry. I didn’t want to waste tears on Gray and my stupid friends. I didn’t want to do any of this! I just wanted to press pause on my whole damn life and take a nap.

Outside his building I pull out my phone and make sure I don’t look crazed. My hand is killing me and I ignore the bruising blooming fresh.

The concierge spots me just as I enter, and we make small talk about Harry on tour and his last few shows that would happen in London. I make a note to mention to Harry to send him tickets—apparently his niece listened to him.

He helps me load a cart with Harry’s mail and take it upstairs.

It had been over a month since I’d been in here and it’s weird that it feels comforting. Or maybe that was just after two weeks of feeling like a stranger at home.

Harry’s words on the plane echo back to me. Not that I was appreciated here either.

If there was ever a time to go back home to the States, it would be now. But that felt like running away. I had to sort my life out here before I made any rash decisions.

With a sigh I dump the paper onto the coffee table. After sorting what looked like bills from letters from miscellaneous I spot the two envelopes Harry wanted and put it to the side. I open the boxes next and locate his custom orthopaedic inserts he asked me to grab too.

I take the extra mail to my office to sort out. In the familiar closed quarters where I’d spent too much time in the last year rolling through a hundred phases, my feelings edge out of me. I try to wipe the tears and continue on but I end up pathetically sat over on the chair crying until I can barely breathe.

It’s pathetic because this is the first space I’ve felt I had the space to cry. And it was where I worked. Where, apparently, I wouldn’t even be missed.

New tears. Less breaths.

“Get it the fuck together,” I say between gasps. “That’s. Enough.”

Through my own self-talk I manage to calm down enough to finish the work. It’s half past 8 by the time I get back to the main living area. I get water to rehydrate myself and stay sitting on the couch staring into space for another ten minutes. I don’t think I had any more tears to cry. Just a rock in place of my heart and another bigger one attached to my ankle.

“Okay,” I finally get the courage to head home.

The end isn’t big and explosive. It’s a simple statement: I think we both know what needs to be done now.

I don’t fight him this time. I have no fight left in me. I just nod.

“I’ll sleep on the couch and still drop you off tomorrow,” he reassures me.

“Just sleep in bed,” I couldn’t even muster enough energy for expression. My flat tone is how I felt. “You don’t fit on the couch. And I’ll get myself to the airport.”

“No I’ll take you. I’ve already made the arrangements-“

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore Gray,” I say. He looks crestfallen and it irks me that he does. I didn’t want him to be sad, it was ridiculous but it was.

“Well I’ll take you anyway.” He says then turns back to the TV.

I wash the day off and make sure everything is packed for my early flight tomorrow. As I lay in bed alone I realize this might be the last time I ever sleep here. Like this. I would have to move all my shit out. Oh god, the wedding. I’d have to cancel my dress shopping dates and the cake testing, the invites we were still designing.

We’d only told our friends it was going to be a winter wedding, I’m glad we never gave them a date. Nobody had marked their calendars. Nothing about us would been permanent.

I look down at the simple ring on my hand. Everything but that.

I keep it on.

I’m still awake when Gray comes to bed but I pretend to sleep. My mind can’t stop making lists to answer: what now.

I’m in a fugue state all night and the only thing that clears the fog is the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds in the morning. I hadn’t slept a wink.

Quiet, so I don’t wake Gray, I get up and dressed. I order a taxi and try not to linger on the hurt of doing this alone. Of Gray waking up to an empty bed.

The flight to Madrid is a couple hours and I miraculously nap through it. Everyone is happy to see me when I get back, especially when I present them with snacks they’d all said they missed from home while we were on tour. With them in hand, I’m an angel in their eyes.

I hand Harry his mail and he stops me. His eyes don’t stop examining my face.

“What happened to your hand?” He asks.

I’d picked up a bandaging kit and ice pack at the airport and with the help of Youtube, wrapped it up. It had started to bruise even worse but I couldn’t be arsed to deal with it even though it hurt. Nothing a few painkillers couldn’t fix.

“I accidentally got it caught in a door,” I lie easily. I had practiced. “It’s nothing.”

“Did you get it checked?”

“No.”

“Make sure you do, tonight’s show.”

“Sure. It’s really nothing though.”

“You sure?” He asks. His gaze is unnerving.

“Mhm,” I nod.

He’s silent, eyes scanning my face. Right as I decide I couldn’t take the scrutiny he asks, “Why were you crying last night?”

I stare, unsure what kind of trick he was playing.

“Sorry.” He laughs to himself. “I have one of those uh, motion sensor cameras in the entryway. I turn it on while I’m away so it sends like, automatic clips if there’s movement. I saw you come in and leave.”

“Oh.” Shit. Think fast. Think fast. “I uhm, got into it with some friends I had a meal with. Y’know…they were being a bit icy cuz of what they’ve heard. I’m over it though.”

“Yeah?” His eyes flicker down to my hand.

“Yeah.” I hold his green eyes for a moment, to reassure him I’m okay. I don’t know why he cares, maybe because I looked like a right mess last night as I left. How embarrassing. But I do my best acting job ever.

Satisfied, he lets me go. I return to the group asking for updates and any stories they wanted to share. Before long I’m laughing along and creeping out of my depressed mood. But something heavier still lingers.

***

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