Sunflower [h.s.]

23 - Rehearsal

I'd made the terrible mistake of speaking before thinking, once again. When I'd told Harry that I would be the keyboardist, I was full of adrenaline, ready to agree to anything if it'd make him happy.

I wasn't completely against the idea now that I was thinking rationally, but I was just so fucking terrified that I'd freeze. And although Harry wouldn't outright say it, he kept hinting towards wanting me to sing the "fuck you song," as he'd put it, at my first performance with the band.

Yeah, no way.

I'd mentioned multiple times that all I'd wanted to do was just play the fucking keyboard and that's all, so I've been desperately praying that he'd gotten the picture. Speaking of rehearsal, the first one that I'd be attending started in an hour and I was nearly shitting my pants. Harry asked the rest of the band to do it at his house, refusing to tell me why, but I knew he was trying to make me feel more comfortable about it.

He'd also sent me a recording of some more chords, just a small snippet, but they stayed replaying in my mind constantly. One of the nights I actually spent at home this week consisted of me digging out my old keyboard from the back of my closet and coming up with more chords to go along with it. It was a sound that was constantly echoing through the walls of my skull, consuming most of my thoughts as background noise.

Now, with only an hour to spare before I had to pretend like I had my shit together in front of the band, Harry and I were eating at both of our favorite place for lunch, Berenstein. It was crazy to me that we hadn't met before Isabel introduced us considering that it'd been our favorite place since either of us moved to LA. You'd have thought we'd run into each other before then.

They sold just about anything you could think of, yet made it like it was their specialty. One thing I know for sure is that when this place closes down, the world will be doomed. If a place so perfect like this could just cease to exist, I don't know how anything else could keep going on. I certainly would have a hard time doing so.

"Earth to Charlotte?" I heard Harry's voice distantly, pulling me away from my thoughts. My head snapped in his direction, unaware of how long I'd been away and how he didn't get annoyed every time I did this.

"Sorry..." I replied, feeling the warmth of his hand reaching over to lay on top of mine, rubbing small circles into my palm.

"You're nervous, huh?" he spoke bluntly.

"Maybe... But, I swear it's fine, okay?" I rebutted, hoping to rid him of that familiar expression of concern.

"I think we should get a milkshake to share, maybe that'd make things better, huh?" he asked and I couldn't hide my stare as I watched a single curl fall onto his forehead, dancing as he spoke.

"Sure, but we're getting chocolate," I settled before he was quickly standing and walking to the counter to order us one.

It killed me that he was always trying to make sure that I was okay, but it was better than him not caring at all. Still, it was hard for me to not feel like a burden with him when all of his effort was spent just trying to make sure he did the right thing or didn't do something to set me off.

He returned quickly with a chocolate shake in hand. I hated to admit it, but he was right - this was taking my mind off of my nerves, but maybe not in the way he'd intended. Something about the two of us, our foreheads nearly touching as we each sipped through our straws was driving me crazy.

"I think we should do this more often. I like being so close," I laughed as he tried to fish out the cherry that had now sunk to the bottom of the milkshake.

"You know, there are plenty of things we can do to be close other than sharing a milkshake, but at least I had a good idea, yeah?" he responded, now licking his fingers of the remnant ice cream from the drink.