Aurelie. [H.S]

CHAPTER 25

14 October 2017

Phoenix, Arizona

Aurelie's POV

My heart pounds violently in my chest as I near the crowds. Though I have no reason to be worried since I have security surrounding me, I still feel completely vulnerable. 

I had spent practically all of the concert in the close friends box, watching as Harry pranced around, joked, and smiled with fans. He has no clue that I'm here, which just adds to the nerves of it all.

A few people notice me and whispers start to spread amongst the young fans. I pray that Harry doesn't hear.

He's still on stage, taking a sip of his water before singing his last song of the night. Which, according to google, will be sign of the times.

I stop for a moment and think about what I'm about to do. Jeffrey follows closely behind me, and stops as I do. "Um... Aurelie? You're going to miss it." he says, a little bit of annoyance present in his tone but mostly just confusion.

"What if he messes up a note when he sees me? And then he hates me?" I speak aloud, biting my nails anxiously.

"Trust me. Harry could never hate you." he tries to console me, putting a hand on my back and moving me in the direction of the stage.

"No, I don't want to do this." I say firmly, and the security look at each other confused. "Can I just wait in his dressing room instead?"

Jeffrey glances up at the stage as the piano starts. He sets his eyes on mine again before speaking to the guards. "Get her to Harry's room, quickly." he orders.

I smile and hug him quickly. The men start walking me in that direction, and I poke my head out from their shield so that I can blow Jeffrey a kiss and thank him.

"Thank you Jeffrey, love you!" he shakes his head in response, not questioning my behaviour since we've gotten rather close over the years.

As much as I would've liked to surprise Harry whilst he was performing, my mind went into overdrive and stopped me by thinking of all of the things that could've gone wrong.

It's about a five minute walk to his dressing room, so by the time that I get there the music has already stopped and the longing screams of fans are the only thing audible.

I sit myself on his table, where I smile when I spot a polaroid of me taped to his mirror. I had been told that he did it by others, but seeing it in the flesh is heart warming. The photo is one that he took when he stole my camera whilst I was asleep; when he knew that he was safe from being shouted at by me for wasting the paper.

 Tate lies on my chest, as asleep as me. He looks cute, and I just look... tired.

 I quickly place the picture back when I hear the music return to normal, signifying the end of the concert and Harry's inevitable return to the dressing room.