untitled |h.s|

thirty

Harry

"Shit, shit, shit," I mutter under my breath, anxious and desperately trying to figure out what to do.

There's a release party at the studio tonight, and I had to spend all morning helping set up and rehearsing Carolina, which we ended up naming the song, with the band to perform later tonight. This is everything I ever dreamed of doing, but hate that it's taking away from everything else I love.

Zayn was pissed when I told him I was leaving early. For the first time probably ever, I told him I was leaving, not asking to leave. I was supposed to be out of there by 11, but he managed to keep me busy until 11:30 and now I'm stuck in the terrible midday traffic I was trying to avoid.

My phone dings again and I don't even need to check to see what it is. I fish it out of my back pocket anyway, opening yet another text from Niall telling me to hurry the fuck up.

Groaning in frustration I look around while shoving my phone back away. The café I took Ari to a while ago is just up the block, I doubt there's any normal parking at this point, they're probably slammed with a lunch rush right now, but I'll gladly take the parking ticket if it means getting to the theater on time.

I move to the side of the road, going around the stopped traffic in the small space between the sidewalk and asphalt. This is exactly why I bought a motorcycle when I moved into the city, even if it occasionally makes me look like an asshole.

Ignoring the honks and profanities being screamed at me through car windows, I ditch my bike in the first somewhat empty spot I find, throwing my helmet into the back compartment before taking off down the crowded sidewalk.

I have to look like a crazy person, cursing under my breath while running through the streets of Manhattan. I'm earning dirty looks from every person I bump into, but I don't have time to care.

They're closing the doors to the theater when I get there, but I shove my way through, waving off the annoyed usher.

"Sorry," I whisper-shout, turning my attention to the stage when music fills my ears.

I lean against the now-closed door, trying to catch my breath as I watch my favorite girl step out onto the stage.

I smile when I see her, watching her face light up as soon as our eyes meet. A pang hits my chest, that weird, familiar skipping feeling I've become accustomed to whenever Ari's around. I ignore it, though, focusing on the stage as she slowly walks across it.

She doesn't look away from me as she starts singing, her voice filling the room while I stand frozen in the back, completely entranced by her. I've heard her sing before, but she has this way of instantly capturing my attention every time she does. It's fitting that she wound up playing a mermaid, her siren-like voice holding me hostage in the best way.

My smile grows wider as I watch her up on the stage, thinking about all of the weekends spent listening to her sing these songs while we messed around doing chores and every late night I'd helped her run lines before bed. I practically have the script memorized at this point, but I'd still watch her perform every single time if I could.

Finally, her gaze pulls from mine as the song ends and she shifts toward one of the other actors on stage. I quickly shuffle down the aisle, sliding into the empty seat beside Niall. He glances at me before shaking his head, a twisted smirk taking over his face. Lylah glares at me from the other side of Mrs. Horan, but the smile she's clearly fighting forces a chuckle out of me before I turn back to watch Ari.

I spend the next 2 hours captivated by the show in front of me. I didn't even think it was possible to be this proud of someone, but my chest is physically aching from watching Ari in her element. The way she's able to embody her character so perfectly while still showing hints of her personality is insane to watch unfold.