13. Niall
—
HARRY
Four months later
When Charley had left him in the library, Harry's world had crashed down around him. The brilliant light she had been in his life suddenly winked out of existence and he was left in the dark once more.
Harry had stayed sitting there in the library for hours afterward, before finally being told by the librarian that it was closing time. As if in a dream, he'd called Ben to pick him up, feeling completely unable to drive. Numbly, he had dropped the keys Charley had given to him into Ben's hand and told him to do whatever he wanted with the car.
And then he'd locked himself in his home studio for three solid days to write a song, a song suddenly burning to get out of him. He'd poured all his love and tenderness for Charley into it, his confusion, his hopes and his fears. When he'd sent
Sweet Creature
to his production team and Mitch, they'd gone crazy over it. Almost no changes were made to the original demo, and he'd flown to London to record the last minute addition to his album.
Now, with the album launched and the press junket completed, Harry was performing his first show tonight in San Francisco. Sound check had already been completed, and now he was sitting nervously back stage after having hair, makeup and wardrobe all checked. With under an hour to his first ever performance of
Harry Styles: Live On Tour
, he was reflecting back on the manic last four months.
In a way, the structure and rigour of his strict schedule had been a blessing - he'd been too exhausted every day getting up at all hours of the morning to chat to radio announcers, talk show hosts, journalists and everything in between to think about Charley much. Harry had tried to lock her away in his mind, but she'd still managed to invade his thoughts every day.
The nights alone in hotel rooms had been difficult to begin with, the silence eating him up inside, until eventually exhaustion from the following weeks of interviews lulled him each night into a restless sleep.
Charley had been put on his 'no question' list, so he wouldn't be asked about her during interviews. One idiot had tried to bring her up in England, and his heart stuttered at her name before management cut them off. He'd found the interview on YouTube a couple days later and watched it back to hear her name, to watch his reaction to it, before realising that section had been cut.
It had been cut out of the video like she'd been cut out of his life. How fitting.
His mum had been calling him regularly, making sure he was eating well and taking care of himself. She had been upset when Harry had told her dully that Charley had broken up with him, how she'd said she couldn't handle him being away all the time, his fame. She'd soothed her son and told him sadly that he just needed to give her time. That who knows what would happen with the tour was over. But it didn't give him any hope. That was a whole year away. She would have moved on by then, he was sure. And a year was much too long to be apart from her.
"Ten minutes." Sarah, his drummer, stuck her head in his dressing room and grinned at him.
He smiled weakly back. "Thanks," he said. Something hit him in the shoulder. "Ow!" He looked down. It was a drum stick. Rolling his eyes, he lobbed it towards the now-empty doorway.
He grinned ruefully, and rubbed at the spot it had hit. Sarah knew how to snap him out of it. He'd been so morose and dark at the beginning of all of this, and the band, while not asking about it, knew that he and Charley had broken up. Even the media had reported their breakup after they hadn't been seen together again for a couple of months.
"Get up, Styles," he said out loud to himself, and reflexively pushed himself to stand up. Running his hands through his hair, he knew the second he stepped out on that stage, everything but the crowd would disappear. Everything but entertaining his fans, and giving them the best he had. He craved it, needed it. Each time he performed, he knew he would truly forget about Charley.
Until you sing Sweet Creature
, he thought, and pushed it to the back of his mind before he started wondering all over again if she'd listened to it, and what she thought of it, if she knew it was for her.
"Time to get out there," his tour manager poked his head through and gestured him out.
Blood pumping, Harry left the room, wiping his damp hands on his blue suede pants. His wardrobe had been spectacularly planned out with meticulous thought by his wardrobe team, and he loved it. The flares, the suits, the fabrics - it defined this tour, from the interviews to now. He could hear the crowd screaming now as they drew closer, and his blood throbbed in his veins.
And then the corridor ended abruptly at a door, and it was opened before him. The screams that hit him almost knocked him back, and without volition a grin spread across his face. This was what he needed. Suddenly he was raring to go, desperate to see the crowd filling the enormous, sold out stadium.
Standing behind the doors that would raise to release him, Harry and his band members exchanged a quick pep talk and hands in before they headed out to their positions. Soon, the refrain of his first song began to boom out in front of him, and his heart pounded in time with it. High anticipation flushed his cheeks, and every nerve-end was tingling.
The door raised, lights blinded him, the crowd exploded, and Harry stepped out. As his mind started to go blissfully blank with adrenalin, he started to sing.
***
CHARLEY
Charley checked her phone as it pinged. It was an Instagram notification from Harry Styles' official account. She picked it up and tapped on the notification, bringing the feed up. Greedily drinking in the photo, she smiled and read the caption:
Thank you, San Francisco
.
And that was it. It was accompanied by a black and white photo of him on stage, mid-song, flares on and sweaty hair. He looked on fire. Charley double tapped on the photo to like it, then sighed and set it back down as she got back to work.
When she'd broken up with Harry, it had been a dark few weeks, but her resolution at what she was doing had pulled her through. Eventually, when she realised he wasn't going to try and contact her again, she decided it would be okay to check how his press circuit was going.
Signing up for Instagram and Twitter so she could follow his accounts, but it hadn't been enough as Harry didn't seem to manage those accounts himself much anymore. Seemed he was taking a leaf out of her book and limiting social media use. Ironic, then, that she had now joined them specifically to follow him.
When his album had been released, it had been a huge moment. Breathlessly, Charley had not only streamed the Spotify playlist immediately, but she'd gone and bought the actual CD, despite not having a CD player, and the record, too. If she could support him, in at least this one, small way, then she would.
His music was perfection. The songs were beautiful, folksy, and the lyrics were all so deep. She'd enjoyed all of them, but was surprised to see the name of a song Harry hadn't told her about. In one of their many discussions, he'd told her the list of songs that had made the final cut, but htis hadn't been one of them. It was called