Matilda | Harry Styles

ELEVEN

I swallowed, peering up at the mass of overhead cameras pointed at the stage. There were far too many lights for me to count, each one seeming bigger than the next. I watched as a woman with a bright, red-lipstick-painted smile was surrounded by two others, who lightly swept makeup brushes over her cheeks. She was laughing at something one of them said, clearly unphased by the fact she was about to go live in front of millions.

Stella had booked this interview for Harry - one of multiple, this morning - to take place before we left to move onto the next city for Harry's show that very evening. I wasn't quite sure why I was needed here - I supposed I could take some photos of him getting ready to go, and whatever else; as Ally had said, capturing the whole essence of the tour, but I felt there were definitely enough cameras here to cover my job. I didn't mind, though. I certainly wouldn't have gotten to experience this, otherwise, and it was anything but dull. I'd been surprised to see none of the other band, or crew, here, but I figured Harry was the star that the networks wanted.

A hand landed on my waist, for a mere second, but it was enough to startle me from my thoughts. I spun around, greeted by the warm smile of Harry - somebody else, who was clearly unphased by the magnitude of the situation. I realised this ought to be normal to him by now, having done it for the best part of a decade, but I still couldn't wrap my head around it.

"Hi," was all he said, his eyes locking onto my own. The gentlest of smiles pulled on his lips - one I was beginning to really enjoy the sight of. Harry seemed to have a range of smiles - his most performative when he would widen his eyes and raise his eyebrows, trying to imitate his joy as starkly as possible, likely for a non-candid photo I was taking. He had another when he was being friendly, or polite, though still genuine; talking to fans, or to other members of the crew that he wasn't so familiar with. He had his most candid of smiles, when he was really enjoying his conversation - I'd usually spotted it in conversations with Pauli, or Mitch, or anybody else in the band, with it often overtaking his features between his fits of uncontrollable laughter or whilst telling a joke. And then, he had this one. I hadn't quite put a label on what this one was, yet; I'd only seen it in traces, and when I had, I'd been so lost in the warmth it caused my chest to fill with, that I was unable to do much else. It felt special, somehow, though I couldn't quite describe it. I wasn't sure if it was deliberate, or if it simply tugged on his lips without much warning, but I loved it.

"Hi," I returned, ignoring the heating of my skin underneath my shirt, where he'd touched me for a moment. He'd only done so to brush past me and to make his presence known, but it was already clouding my mind as he stood in front of me, now. He was dressed far more casually than he was for his stage appearances, but he still radiated the very same aura as he did when clad in something adorned in glitter, or diamonds. There was still something about him, even when before me now in a pair of baggy jeans and an oversized cardigan, that just made him look so much better than anybody else could. Harry truly was a star, in every sense of the word.

"Ready to watch me get grilled on my personal life?" he asked, tilting his head a little.

"Do you know what they're going to ask, already?" I returned, genuinely curious.

He shook his head, "No, but Stella pre-approves a list of questions to try and keep them related to what we want to talk about," he raked a hand through his hair, his eyes briefly drifting to the empty chair opposite his interviewer, which he was due to occupy. "'Doesn't mean they don't try and slip in a couple that are unapproved."

I hoisted myself up to sit on the edge of an abandoned equipment box, giving myself a little more height as Harry stood before me. "Like what? Is everybody desperate to know how you have your eggs in the morning?" I joked, catching the playful twitch of his lips at my question.