The Adjacent Room [h.s]

Chapter 9

I can't be here right now. I can't stay in this stadium and watch him do his favourite thing in the whole world - perform. His charisma and his smile and his passion on stage is mesmerising and my heart just can't take anymore. Not tonight. I am such a fucking bad assistant. First, I let my feelings get in the way of acting professionally, then I pretend Harry doesn't exist and take a day off to go shopping..I mean, shopping? Seriously? And now I'm running out of the stadium minutes before his show starts.

I burst out of the same doors we came in through and stop to catch my breath. I am such a bitch. Truly such a selfish, self serving bitch. I'm disgusted by my own actions.

It's dark and windy now, but I can't feel the cold. I'm so empty inside. Harry is so full of love and life and I'm just empty. For the first time, I ran out of a show; all because I can't control my feelings.

I don't know what to do. I can't go for a walk to clear my head because there might still be fans around and I can't be seen like this, and I barely even know the streets of Sydney..let alone the streets of Sydney in the dark. I decide to sit down on the curb and figure out where to go from here.

I could go back inside and pretend like I didn't just sprint out, or I could go back to the hotel. Either option will embarrass me and make me look like a joke, but at this point I know I'm not going to be able to watch Harry for the remaining hour and a half of the show, acting like nothing is wrong. So it's decided. I'm going back to the hotel.

I make my way to the road; luckily a road hidden behind the arena. In a way I'm thankful that my self loathing session lasted for so long, because I don't think there are any fans around to see me anymore. I stick my arm out onto the road to hail a taxi, and I thank god that one pulls up quickly.

Once I'm seated in the warm taxi I tell the driver the name of the hotel. I can tell this driver isn't friendly or conversational, but today that's fine because I'm not in the mood to fake a smile for some random stranger.

Just as I get comfortable staring out the window into the dark, I hear my phone ding.

Hi honey, is everything okay? Your dad just showed me a video from tonight.

Shit. What video? Harry? Fuck. If something has happened to Harry and I wasn't there, I won't ever forgive myself.

What videos? What are you talking about mom?

You're not at the show?

Fuck me, why is she being so difficult? Just before I call her and ask..well, probably more demand..her to tell me what's she's talking about, my phone vibrates in my hand again.

Here's a link. Call me if you need, Soph. Xx

From the thumbnail of the link on my iMessage screen, I realise the video is of Harry on stage. He's wearing his suit from tonight. Shit. The video goes for 7 minutes, and it's titled 'Harry Styles crying while singing Fine Line 27th April 2020' I click on the link at record speed.

The YouTube app opens, and I realise Harry's voice is hard to hear through the audience on all sides of the camera. It's clear this is a video posted by a very dedicated fan. What on earth could be so important to share that one spends time posting a YouTube video while at a concert?

Shit. There is no chance I'm going to be able to hear this video unless I blast the sound. Fuck. I don't care. The taxi driver can listen too.

I turn the volume up to full and Harry's beautifully accented voice fills the small taxi, along with thousands of screaming audience members in the background. I consider apologising to the taxi driver for the noise, but I'm sure he's heard worse and I don't have time to be polite to a taxi driver right now.