Wildfire - H.S

32

The Met Gala.

It's just a party. With a bunch of A List celebrities.

One of those being my very own boyfriend.

But it's fine, because it's only the biggest worldwide event for celebrities. What's a celebrity anyway, if not a regular person who just has a whole fanbase dedicated to them?

Stepping out of the car, was enough alone to make my stomach clench for all the wrong reasons and my head go incredibly dizzy.

I honestly didn't expect so many regular people like myself to have shown up here, just to watch their favorite singers, actors and models just walk into the museum.

It clearly shows the dedication they have, simply wanting to see their idols outfits before the rest of the world.

Immediately I noticed far more than a handful of fans here for Harry. But again, I don't know why I would have ever expected anything less.

But this now means we're officially official. No going back now. His fans have seen us both together now, so I suppose the only way to go now is forward, with my head held high.

If it wasn't for Esme, I'd most definitely be turning around right now and calling a taxi back home. This is already far out of my comfort zone and it's not even been five minutes.

Maybe I shouldn't have passed Esme up on that tequila shot she offered before I left the apartment.

Part of me is here for myself. I know Harry wants me to do this for me, more than for him or his fans.

He really is sweet, because I know if I truly did want to go home, he'd make sure to get me back to his apartment as quickly as possible. And he would accompany me the whole time, whispering his soft reassuring words consistently.

Which, of course I would appreciate massively. But, I would also feel so unbelievably guilty.

So, because of that, I'm just going to have to suck it up and stick it out.

I mean, it surely can't be as bad as I think.

The absurd scenarios swimming around in my head are far from likely to happen.

The only scenario I could genuinely see a possibility of happening tonight is me falling over. Because seriously, what could actually be worse than face planting on the red carpet in front of hundreds of photographers and reporters?

Actually, thinking about it, it doesn't sound that appealing at all. But it's most definitely the best of a bad bunch.

Then again, the other scenarios in my 'bunch' include my dress somehow catching alight and then setting fire to everything else at the venue, my dress completely falling apart, throwing up in front of everyone, or on someone. And the worst of them all would be Harry breaking up with me in view of not only the public, but celebrities, and news reporters. I'd be publicly ridiculed.