"Okay, all of you - are you listening?"
I heard Elin scoff beside me, and I turned to look at her, noticing the expressions on everybody else's faces. Both Elin and Sarah appeared completely amused, and even Mitch, beside them, had a playfully dismissive expression on his face. I glanced across to the other side of me, where Harry sat next to me, as Pauli murmured something beside him that caused him to laugh, also. Nobody could take her seriously.
Stella huffed from her position, standing in front of us. We were sat in a row, the group of us, on the tour bus, where Stella had summoned our attention. We were leaving New York to head for New Jersey, where Harry was going to be playing two shows. We were probably only twenty minutes, at most, into the journey, when Stella had cleared her throat in an attempt to gather our attention.
I'd probably had one conversation with her, at most, for the duration of the tour - and it was to insult me. We weren't friends, by any means, but day-to-day, it didn't have much impact on me. Nobody paid her much mind - she was constantly working; I had to credit her for that, but nobody seemed to have any form of connection with her, and she seemed to prefer it that way. The only person I'd ever see her converse with, other than Ally, was Harry - and I realised how much I trusted him, in that I didn't feel at all insecure in those interactions.
The way she'd touched his arm, and lean into his shoulder, seemed to have become far less of an issue than I'd suspected on the first day I'd seen her - I wasn't sure I'd seen it happen at all, since. They'd seemed so close, upon my arrival, but Harry never seemed to carry a huge amount of conversation with her - there was never any opportunity for her to be so touchy. At least, never when I was there.
I'd sort of grown used to the evil looks I'd receive from Stella. It wasn't exactly constant, but she didn't filter it with much else - she'd either refuse to look in my direction whatsoever, and when she did, it certainly wasn't to meet my eye; it was more, whenever she saw Harry and I together, that I could sense her eyes on me, on us. Her pursed lips, and narrowed eyes - they were a given. At times, it made me uneasy, but I was never around her for long, nor was my attention ever on her - it was always drawn away, by the people I was actually spending time with.
Everybody had been exchanging amused glances from the moment she'd declared that she and Ally had an announcement to share with us. I would've felt bad for her, had she not been so awful, and if there wasn't a general consensus that, generally, she wasn't a nice person.
Harry was sitting beside me, and my legs were brought up onto the couch to allow his hand to curl around my knee. He was stabbing a plastic fork into a boxed salad that looked deeply unappetising, but he stubbornly insisted that he loved it.
I wasn't sure how he had an ounce of energy left after the day he'd had yesterday, or the evening that had followed. Though the encounter with the paparazzi had definitely bothered him, he didn't let it spoil the remainder of our dinner, or the rest of our night. I couldn't quite contemplate how, upon arriving back to the hotel room, either of us had located the energy that we had to let our hands trace along one another; or for his hand to fall between my legs as mine pulled at his clothes in a haste to remove them - but we'd found it. He'd hissed lowly in my ear at my mere urgency to feel him, as I'd immediately reached for him upon our arrival back to the room, but he certainly didn't object to it. It was evenings, between us, just like that, that I never wanted to be parted from.
"Okay," Ally stood up, bringing her hands together. An excited grin was on her lips, as I snuck a glance at Harry, who seemed just as clueless as the rest of us. "We have some really big news."
"Harry," she said, looking at him, "the shows at the arena this week won't be going ahead." Harry frowned, immediately perplexed as he set his fork down.
"What are you talking about?"
"Well," Ally grinned, "there'll just be one show. Your first stadium show."
"Oh my god," sounded from one of the others - but I wasn't sure who. They all sat up in their seats, now, in awe at the words that had just left Ally's mouth, each of them exchanging shocked glances.
"Eighty-two thousand people," Ally said, bringing her hands up to her mouth, now. She was watching Harry, just like I was, an overwhelmed grin on her face as she spoke. Harry had yet to move, or blink - or do anything. He was simply staring ahead, his mouth slightly agape, as he appeared to try and register what he'd just been told.
I glanced back at the others, who all appeared to be equally speechless. Sarah had her hands over her mouth, staring at Mitch with wide eyes, and Elin and Pauli were just staring at one another. Everybody was in complete shock; everybody in here was about to play, or work on, the biggest show that they ever had.
Every show that Harry had played so far, had an audience of around twenty-thousand - that, in itself, was no small feat. Whether it was one show, or five, in each city, he sold it out - every seat, every spot was filled, by people bursting with adoration, and he'd grown pretty comfortable with crowds of that same size. It seemed like second nature for him to stand before them, now - but this was a whole other league. This was huge.
I brought my hand over his, where it rested on my leg, trying to coax some kind of reaction from him. I craned my neck around in an attempt to meet his eye, but before I could, he suddenly brought his free hand over his face, tilting his head down.
"Holy shit," was all he murmured, his face buried in his hand as I felt his other begin to shake beneath mine. I latched onto his fingers, breathing out a laugh as the others began to cheer, breaking into applause. It appeared to have finally set in, for everybody, the scale of this announcement - this wasn't only huge, and nerve-wracking, but it was exciting.
I wasn't sure I'd ever quite understood how big of a deal this was for an artist, until I got to experience it along by his side. It was easy for artists to become names, or figures, rather than people - Harry was the first real experience I'd had in seeing how much more there was to somebody famous. I'd have thought a stadium might've been a cool experience, but I'd never have actually stopped to consider what it meant for somebody who devoted everything they had to their music career. This was the peak, for somebody like him - and it was only once I actually entered the stadium, with him, that I realised how big of a deal it was.
After arriving in New Jersey, following the cancellation of the original shows, it meant we had two days free - a lot of which, Harry had spent in meetings with the band on how to make this show even bigger. This needed to be his biggest yet.
I could sense the anxiety in him at any moment we were alone. He'd meet my eyes, appearing entirely overwhelmed; he was nervous, in how he'd hold my hand, or reach for me. I'd kissed his cheek, or his jaw, and squeezed at his hand repeatedly, and I'd attempted to remind him how the only difference, here, was the scale of the crowd - it wasn't his ability or talent that would've changed at all. The meaning behind his show, and the reason everybody was attending was no different from usual.
The last time he'd played a stadium, he'd told me, he'd been in his former band. Never, in a million years, had he thought he'd ever be able to play one again. This time, every person in attendance would be there to see him, and only him. Even somebody who had been famous for as long as Harry had, couldn't wrap his head around it.
He'd barely slept the night before the show. I could feel him tossing and turning beside me, and though he usually fell asleep before I did, I lost count of how long I could sense he was still awake.
I brought one of my hands to his face, gently drawing my thumb over his chin. "Stop stressing," I murmured, facing him, with his eyes closed. I knew he was still awake.
"I feel sick," he murmured back, and I pressed my lips together, leaning further into the pillow.
"You're going to be amazing," I replied, as his eyes flickered open to meet mine. He scanned them over my face, briefly, a glazed-over look in his eye as I leaned forward to kiss his chin, now, and then the side of his mouth. He'd been in somewhat of a trance from the moment he'd learned about the stadium show; unable to truly fathom, or make sense of it. I knew how important this was for him.
He'd asked, almost sheepishly, if we could go to the stadium early in the morning - just to check it out, he'd said. He hadn't even stepped foot in it, yet; the remainder of the crew had been working tirelessly to pull everything together for days, now, but Harry wasn't actually needed until today. I'd thought he'd initially meant that we should go a few hours early, but by the time the first beams of sunlight had begun to stream through the hotel window, and I'd felt him tossing and turning next to me for most of the night, I knew he was itching to get up.
It was probably a little after six AM when we left the hotel. We'd both gotten changed, and I'd brought my bag with my equipment, and clothes for later, assuming I likely wouldn't have a chance to come back to the hotel, now, until much later. Harry had his own bag, with a few things he needed, but his own clothes would've been transported to the stadium in preparation for his arrival, already, so he didn't need much. His hand had found mine as we made our way down to the hotel lobby, and got into the car that was waiting for us.
He was quiet as we made our way to the venue. The sun was only just out, at the moment, and the streets were pretty quiet - it was only when we drew closer, and closer to the stadium, that it became clear that the city was alive, for him. His name was strung across the front of the venue, and similar banners decorated every street leading up to it; there were lights, and crowds of people seated on the street, clad in bright outfits and fun hats, some of them drawing on large pieces of card to make signs, and some of them sitting in circles playing games. All of them had been here since at least last night, it seemed, in anticipation of the show, and getting the best view of Harry. It wouldn't be for at least another fourteen hours that Harry would be on stage, but everybody seemed more than happy to wait.
I watched him as we drove past the line of people, wrapping around the entire block, and I saw how his eyes lit up. The tinted windows of the car meant nobody would've known it was him driving past, which granted him the luxury of being able to stare. There must've been at least triple the amount of people, lining up, than there usually was, and he definitely noticed it, too, blowing out a shaky breath. Everybody who was meant to go to the original two shows had their tickets transferred to this one, and Ally had said that the remaining thousands went on sale a couple of days prior - and they'd sold out, in an instant.
We had our names taken at the back entrance of the stadium, and we received our passes to authorise our entry backstage. I sensed Harry suck in a breath, beside me, as we walked through the backstage area, and it all began to feel a lot more real. Though it was still early morning, the crew were already on their way to completing the set-up for tonight, with the hallways occupied with plenty of staff - with everything happening so suddenly, they would've been working tirelessly, around the clock, to make a show of this size happen with so little notice. Harry said his typical, polite 'hello's as we walked by, but I could sense he didn't feel as confident as he usually did. He would usually just be excited in the lead-up to a show - I'd never seen him like this, but then, he'd never done a show this big.
I let both of my arms wind around one of his as we walked through the remainder of the backstage area, following the signs to the front. He glanced over at me, as we neared the exit, and I pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder, hoping to provide some kind of reassurance. I'd never known how to be that for somebody; I didn't have the same kind of comforting quality that he did - where he was stable and reliable in a time of uncertainty. But I would try.
We walked out onto the stadium floor, and I felt his arm tense in mine; his lips pressing together as it appeared to hit him, all at once. This place was absolutely massive - I'd never seen anything like it; the floor stretched so far across, split into sections - and even with the new stage layout, I noticed, which stretched out into where the crowd would be, the remainder of the floor was huge. It had a vast surface area for Harry to make use of, completely different from the stage he'd always had in the arena shows, and with everything being so last minute, he wouldn't have a chance to test the waters with this new layout. I noticed on the stage, there were raised platforms with individual instruments placed upon them, but they weren't the ones that belonged to Harry's band. Ally had mentioned that there would be an opening act, tonight, something that Harry didn't always have - but with the scale of the show, it made sense to bring one in. It appeared that the stage was set up for whoever that was, with the drums looking different from the ones that Sarah used.
Harry hadn't even laid his eyes on the stage yet, I realised, as I turned back to him. The sight of him, there, gazing around, caused me to raise my camera as I briefly pulled away from him, snapping a couple of photos. He was wistfully eyeing the thousands, upon thousands, of seats - the floor I'd been so preoccupied with, didn't even make up half of the grounds. There were seemingly endless rows of chairs, reaching up so high that I couldn't even properly see the ones at the top. With the idea that every inch of this space would be filled, tonight, by people here to see him, I could understand why Harry was feeling so thrown.
I let one of my hands intertwine with his, our fingers lacing through one another's, and I squeezed at his hand, watching him. I didn't say anything, yet, simply watching his side profile as he peered around, in just about as much awe as I'd been in. But the difference, here, was that he had to perform, and I didn't. I could admire the scale of it all, and then separate myself from it; he couldn't.
I knew he'd be amazing, just as he was any night. This was only the start, truly, I was sure of it - after this, he'd be playing stadiums as his usual venue - he'd only keep getting bigger. He wanted to keep doing this forever, and this was the next step in that.
His eyes were scanning over every individual seat. We walked, then, over to one of the sets of stairs, to take us up to one of the sections of seats. We walked up, and eventually stopped around halfway, sitting down on the two seats closest to the aisle. He blew out a deep breath, shaking his head.
"I can't believe this," he said, his arm still laced through mine, with his hand resting in my lap, now. Sitting in one of the actual audience seats gave a whole other perspective of the scale of the venue - it really was mindblowing.
"I can," I returned, and I meant it. He deserved every ounce of this. I'd only had the privilege of knowing him and seeing him perform for a matter of months, but he never failed to amaze me with his passion, and his dedication. He turned to look at me, a tiny ghost of a smile on his lips.
"I'm glad you're here," he murmured, then, his eyes scanning over my face, as I felt his fingers move, mindlessly, in my lap. I ran my hand over the lower part of his arm, exhaling, as I couldn't help but smile at his words. I am, too. I leaned in to kiss him, sensing how the tension in his shoulders appeared to drop, slightly, as our lips met.
We sat there, for a little while, as the crew continued to set everything up, my temple pressed to Harry's shoulder as he rested his cheek against the top of my head. We were quiet; we didn't need to talk. He knew I was there if he wanted to say anything, or if he didn't.
When we eventually made our way back down the steps, to the main floor area, it was later on in the morning, and the others would be arriving, soon. Ally and Stella surfaced, first, the pair of them arriving together.
"Harry," Ally said, shooting him a weak, disapproving look as she walked towards us, "you didn't tell anybody you were coming. You had your security banging on my door this morning, trying to find you," she said, but she wound her arms around him to pull him into a tight hug, anyway. He accepted it, and I watched as she rubbed his back, swaying back and forth in their tight embrace. "Oh, I knew you'd be here early, somehow," she said, with a gentle laugh.
Ally had been working with Harry for years, now, it was no wonder that she looked so incredibly proud of him, here. She seemed just as amazed by the size of the stadium as we did, but she remained collected.
"Big day," she said, squeezing at Harry's arms as they broke their hug. I watched as he nodded, appearing slightly more assured than he had when we'd first arrived. I was surprised to see Stella smile, moving toward Harry to pull him into a hug, herself. I felt an odd turn in my stomach as she did so, but it was over before I could really overanalyse. I figured that was normal, even if I knew there was nothing there; to not be too fond of seeing my boyfriend with somebody he used to 'date'.
Elin, Mitch, Sarah, and Pauli soon arrived at the venue, each of them bursting in with the same nervous, yet increasingly excited, air about them. The first thing that each of them did, was hug Harry, and then each other - I noticed - that they were all in the same boat, here. Each of them took their time to peer around the venue, in awe, clearly buzzing with nerves and anticipation.
I wasn't sure when, but we'd all ended up sitting in a circle, on the floor of the stadium, where the crowd would later occupy it. There was something so particular in the air, that I'd never experienced - it was this nervousness, and uncertainty, from everybody in the group - but also an assurance that they'd make it work, together. The ultimate feeling was excitement, and pride - but the way it had all come about so suddenly, had made the nerves far more intense, as I could sense it from Harry. But it felt like everybody was closer than ever to one another; sitting there, in equal nerves, and awe of the venue we sat in, with an awareness that they'd fully have to trust and rely on one another for the show to be its best.
I adored this group of people. I hated that they'd be doing this without me, soon, but it would be an injustice for it to draw to a halt in my absence. They all loved this; it was so, abundantly clear - though I was definitely biased in my admiration for Harry's passion, I could see it in the four of them, as well. They were endlessly dedicated to this, and they had faith in it, and they had faith in Harry.
I left, briefly, to go and get breakfast for both Harry and me. Our early arrival had meant neither of us had eaten a thing, and we'd been awake for hours, now. I knew the last thing on his mind, today, would've been something like eating or drinking, so I wanted to make sure he was still looked after before the show.
I stumbled across a coffee shop after no more than five minutes of walking. I got coffee for us both, adding the oddly specific amount of milk Harry liked, to his, and I grabbed a number of pastries that I thought he might like.
It was on my way back, that I passed a wooden cart, adorned with different bouquets of flowers, with a woman who appeared to be making up some more. I stopped in my tracks, eyeing it for a moment.
"Do you have any tulips?" I asked.
She turned around, with a bright smile, "I do. Did you want a bouquet?"
"Yes, please," I returned, watching her lay down a piece of brown paper, presumably to wrap the flowers in. "Is there any way that I can add a card?"
Within five minutes, I was on my way back to the venue, balancing a coffee tray in my left hand, with a brown paper bag containing both food for Harry and I, and cradling the fresh bouquet of flowers, in my right. I'd scribbled a note that the florist had kindly sealed and attached for me, addressed to Harry. It wasn't a massive gesture, by any means, but I remembered the warmth I'd felt in my chest whenever he'd made the same one. I wasn't as good as he was at these things, but I wanted to make it, for him.
On a couple of occasions, whenever Harry had been somewhere without me, and had seen something related to the flowers, he'd sent me a text about it, or attached a photo. Whether it had been some tulips he'd passed on the street, or if it had been etched onto a logo of some kind - it felt like they were slowly becoming our thing - one of our many things.
When I'd made it back to the venue - back through the ever-growing crowd of fans waiting to be granted entry - I called Harry to let him know that I'd returned. After an embarrassing amount of searching, with the unfamiliarity of such a large backstage area - made even more difficult whilst trying to balance the abundance of things I was carrying - I finally found his dressing room, where I also found our bags, which had been originally taken from us at the door.
"Hello?" Harry's beautiful voice sounded down the phone, melting me just as it always did.
"I'm back. Do you have time to come and eat?" I asked, setting his coffee down on the table. I balanced the phone between my shoulder and my ear, fishing the bouquet out of the bag to rest it on the table, too, neatly positioning the card beside it. "I'm in your dressing room, but I can come out there if you'd like."
"It's fine, baby, I'll come to you," he returned, as I laid the rest of the things I'd bought onto the table. I heard a resounding, teasing, 'aww' down the phone, which told me he was still with the others, where I'd left him. "Give me two minutes."
I waited, patiently, for what would've been a maximum of five minutes, but felt like an eternity with how much I was aching to see him, after what couldn't have been more than an hour apart.
The door swung open, and I was immediately greeted by Harry's comforting frame before me. He didn't even notice the small spread I'd made on the table for him, his eyes immediately landing on me as he entered the room, and refusing to shift away. He closed the distance between us, his arms winding tightly around me as I brought my hands to his face, sinking into his touch as he kissed me. His eyes lingered on me for a moment or two more, a boyish grin on his lips as he peered down at me, before he leaned in to press a kiss to my forehead, which was when, I supposed, his eyes finally landed on the table.
"What's all this?" he leaned back from me, his fingertips still pressed to my waist, as I watched his eyes scan over the table. His gaze flickered between me, and the bouquet on the table, and I watched as his smile only grew, his eyes softening as he moved toward the table to pick up the card I'd placed there.
I watched, as he read it, his lips curving ever so slightly to half-form some of the words I'd scribbled on there - it wasn't much; it was merely a note congratulating him on the show, and hoping to remind him of just how brilliant he was going to be. He looked up from it, meeting my eyes as he still grasped the card between his fingers, his lips twitching into a lazy grin as he glanced back down at the bouquet.
He reached for my hand, using it to pull me closer to him. He leaned back against the table, pulling my weight onto him and catching my face in his hands, as all I could do was peer up at him.
"God, I'm so obsessed with you," he murmured, then, sending a chill along the length of my spine as he dipped his head to connect our lips.
The rest of the day seemed to fly by; a nervous, excited anticipation in the air in everybody I spoke to. I tried not to leave Harry's side; I wasn't sure if it actually helped him, at all, but I wanted him to feel like he had my support. He'd handed me the setlist, noted down on his phone, as we'd made our way over to soundcheck, and I'd slowed my walking to take it in.
"This is amazing," I told him, my eyes scanning over the list. It was longer, than usual, with a mixture of songs - I saw that both 'Medicine' and 'Cinema' had made the cut, as well as 'What Makes You Beautiful', and of course, 'Complicated Freak', causing me to flicker my eyes back to him with a small smile. My eyes scanned further down the list, narrowing at a point of unfamiliarity. I stopped, causing him to stop beside me. "What's 'LNT'?"
"Oh, nothing," he returned, and I looked up, furrowing my eyebrows. He'd sandwiched it, whatever it was, right in between 'Adore You' and 'Cinema'. I remained still, meeting his playful eyes, suspiciously.
"Aren't we past this?"
"Never."
I pursed my lips. The fact he was about to play the biggest show of his career, yet he was still set on surprising me, was beyond me. The fact I was even on his list of things to think about, on a day like this, felt unfathomable.
When he'd made it up onto the stage to run through some songs, he looked, briefly, like a deer in headlights. By his second song, he was slowly dropping his shoulders, feeling the music a little more, moving away from the microphone stand that he'd been standing stiffly behind. The stage must've been three times the size of his normal one; it was a huge adjustment. I could see the cogs in his brain turning as he attempted to walk around, practising covering the area.
It seemed to have set in, somehow, even more, how big tonight was going to be. We were mere hours away, now, as we made our way back to his dressing room, where his outfit now hung on a rack, waiting for him. The fans would be allowed into the stadium any moment, now, and so we would be confined back here until the show started. There was no more browsing around the stadium grounds - the next time Harry saw it, would be when it was full of eighty-thousand people, all there to see him.
He'd gotten changed into a simple white t-shirt, which had been paired with some overalls, adorned in a red-heart print all over. He sent me a mischievous grin, still unable to conceal his nerves as he fumbled with the buttons to attach the straps, but he couldn't quite get it. I walked over to help him, hooking the straps to his trousers, only to notice that his hands were shaking; the reason why he couldn't grasp his clothes, properly. I pressed my lips together, reaching for his shaking hands and taking them in my own.
"You're going to be incredible," I reminded him, watching his eyes search my face. I couldn't help but drag my fingers over one of the many rings on his fingers, attempting to soothe him with my touch. "Everybody knows it."
The last thing Harry did before we went to leave the dressing room was call his mother. I felt my heart thump, just at that; that his inclination had been, before the biggest moment of his career, to call his mother, with whom he had what seemed like such a healthy relationship. He wanted to share it with her, and it made my heart warm, despite having never known that feeling - not properly.
There were times, when I'd been younger, that I'd wanted to share what I felt were good things, or achievements, with my mother - whether it had been a good grade on a primary school test, or whether it had been, eventually, being accepted to do my law degree - but I'd never gone through with it. For, I knew the reaction would never be of shared elation, or joy, or praise - it would erode any sort of personal satisfaction I'd felt about the situation. She'd have ruined what little I had. For the biggest event of my career to take place, the last person I'd ever have wanted to involve, would've been her. It felt foreign to see somebody reach for their parent, just to share things with them.
"Hi, Mum," he said, into the phone, biting on his nail. I let my hand lay against his thigh, as he sat on the sofa, beside me. I'd been clicking through some photos on my camera, as he responded to texts from what felt like a thousand people, each sending him well wishes for tonight. He was so loved, he didn't even know it.
I watched as he paused, his lips twitching into a small smile as he listened to his mother speak, the phone against his ear. He still chewed his nail, mindlessly, staring ahead as he focused on her words. "Yeah, Iz is here," he said, then, catching me by surprise. He glanced at me, then, meeting my widened eyes. He bit back a grin, "Mum says hi."
He'd told her about me. He was telling his family about me, and I'd never be able to give him that.
I stared blankly at him for a moment, before I realised the normal thing to do, here, would be to respond. I blinked.
"Hi," was all I returned, timidly, my eyes fixed on him as he listened to her continue to speak through the phone.
I watched his lips twitch at something she'd said. He had a soft spot for her, I could tell, and I'd have been lying to say it wasn't endearing.
They spoke for a few minutes - mostly with Harry just listening, as I figured she sought to inspire him and remind him of his brilliance, just as I had all day.
"I think I need to start heading out there, Mum," he said, eventually, his hand mindlessly tracing over mine. "I love you. Thank you - I will. I love you, too," he repeated, and I was hit with hearing those words fall from his mouth caused my stomach to jolt. I forced my mind away from it.
As he ended the call, his phone was unlocked, revealing his home-screen to me. It was a picture of him and I, that Elin had taken, a short while ago at a restaurant; his lips pressed to my cheek as I leaned into him. I knew it was his screensaver, but it still made my heart race to see it. I liked, perhaps even more, how the photo upon his lockscreen was different - it wasn't so blatantly of us, but rather, it was a photo I'd taken of the flowers in the museum garden in LA. Nobody would've ever known it was my photo, or what that day had meant for us both - but he knew, and so did I.
The opening act was on stage - it turned out to be a small band; one I hadn't heard of, but Harry's label was hoping to push them as the next big thing. And so, they'd be playing at Harry's show, to try and give them their own platform.
We hadn't left the dressing room for a while - now, we knew, the stadium would be full of people. I couldn't imagine how Harry would've been feeling - from the moment we left the dressing room, you could hear the buzz of eighty-thousand people, all waiting for Harry's arrival. He took my hand in his, as we moved toward the sound of music on the stage. He wouldn't be on for another thirty minutes, at least, but the opening set had been on for a short time, and Harry wanted to watch them.
"This feels so surreal," he murmured against my ear, after speaking a seemingly much more confident "hello" to a venue staff member, as we progressed down the hallway. It was crazy, how loud even the chatter of the crowd was; I supposed, that was the case when you put eighty thousand people in one room.
"I think it's going to feel like that, all night," I responded, honestly, glancing up at him. "Just enjoy it. You've earned it," I said, watching his eyes flicker down to my own.
We were practically just off stage now, settling against an equipment box. Harry pulled himself up to sit on it, and pulled me up beside him, with his hand. He shifted us about in an instant, my leg overlapping his as I felt his hand curl around it. We had a perfect view of the opener, from the side, but still completely out of view of everybody else.
He hadn't seen the crowd yet. Not in its entirety; and I supposed, there wasn't a way for him to do that, without them seeing him. The first time, then, that he'd see them, would be when he was singing in front of them. I supposed he had that same realisation, swallowing thickly as he watched the band play on stage. He blew out a breath.
"This is going to be fucking crazy."