Chapter Thirty One

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Harry Styles

Mitch, Adam and I went out for dinner after spending the day in the studio. Sarah was invited, but she went home instead so it was just the three of us. We tried to think of when to get Halle in to record Dream On, but we'll need her to tell us when she's free first. We had a few beers and then called it a night.

I bought a pack of eight cans of cider to take with me, and then by seven I was sitting on my couch alone, watching famous people walk on a red carpet I should've been on tonight.

I'm mad Sam didn't let me go, because it looks like great fun. Awards in New York always are exciting, but I guess I'll have to wait until next year. Halle was nervous this morning, and even though she denied it, I could tell that she was. She did seem excited though, so I hope she's fine now.

I watched so many people on the red carpet, watched so many interviews I didn't care about. Some people there are just models who were born into money so have no clue how the industry works, and I still don't understand how they even get invited to events like this.

Then I saw her on my screen, and it felt like she was there in person. Her long blue dress with the slit coming up to her thigh, the way her hair is pushed back and her makeup...god she looks amazing. She knows it too, her confidence is gleaming and I love it. It's like she owns the red carpet, and she does. I don't think there's anyone there that tops Halle Henry tonight.

Sitting on my couch in shorts and a T-shirt with a can of cider in my hands, I find myself smiling at my television screen just because Halle has walked on to the red carpet and her beauty has absolutely blown me away.

Maybe it's a good thing I'm not there, because I don't know just how well I'd do at pretending I'm not constantly wishing she'd give me a smile.

The way she's posing, her hand on her hip with her leg out...fuck it's driving me insane and I'm not even there. She's behind some country band, and then behind her is just some actor from a film I don't think anybody has heard of. Halle is the one the cameras are focussing on, and i don't fucking blame them.

Ten minutes later, the show starts and I crack open another can. I feel like a teenage but again, I don't think I've sat in on a Saturday night and watched TV drinking cider to myself in so long, but I suppose I have an excuse, I could hear my name being called and find out if I win something, which is why I'm watching it.

The first award was for best folk song and it went to someone I haven't heard of. The camera panned to Halle for a second or two as she applauded them with a smile on her face. When she looked at the camera, it felt like she was grinning at me and I felt so stupid of smiling back, but I couldn't help it.

Each award that was announced, I prayed they pan the camera to Halle again, just so I could admire her once again. Each time it did, I'd smile and clap along as if I was there with her, because I really wish I was. I wanted to be there to accept any award I might win, but now that I',m seeing the way Halle looks, I'm wishing I was there just to worship her and make sure she knows she's fucking heavenly.

The next award to be called was Maritimes Favourite Female Vocalist, the one Halle expects not to win. I have so much faith in her, and I think she could win it, I really fucking hope she does because her voice is so unique and deserves every pounce of praise it gets.

When they were listing the nominees and it panned to Halle, I could tell she was anxious. I wish I was there to hold her hand or something, tell her it's okay or place my hand on her keg to stop her nervously bouncing it under the table. So as I sat there waiting for the winner to be announced, I had my fingers crossed staring at the TV in anticipation, as if my whole life depended on it.

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