DUNKIRK | HARRY STYLES

[Scene Twenty-Two]

The slick limo drew up outside, the chauffeur even getting out to hold the door open. I wasn't of a high enough status to be given a limo- but Dad was. 

So I took advantage of the luxury, sipping on the free champagne and hoping the alcohol would take the edge off my nerves. 

Dad sat on the opposite end, playing nervously with the end of his tie. We were both so apprehensive of the premiere that we couldn't even talk. The air inside of the limo was heavy in silence and anxiousness. 

The window framed London as we crawled through the centre of town. Time passed too quickly, until we were barely five minutes away from Leicester Square, where the premiere was being held. 

I watched through the window as the streets began to overflow with people, mostly teenage girls hoping to catch a glance of Harry.  With every metre the car drove the nervous butterflies fluttered in my stomach more and more. 

I could see the centre of the premiere in the distance, the flashes from cameras reverberating into the dusky air and the echoing shouts of journalists trying to get the cast's attention. It drew closer until we were so near I could see the red carpet. 

I felt sick to my stomach- so ill I could have opened my mouth and thrown up. That's how apprehensive I was about seeing Harry again. What about if he turned up with a beautiful girl on his arm? What about if he didn't ever want to see me again? What about if we still loved each other but he was still too busy with his music to pursue a relationship?

I couldn't survive another six months of 'what if'? It was like living in limbo, not being able to date anyone because I was too in love with Harry but also not being able to date the one I loved because he was thousands of miles away. 

"India," Dad shook my shoulder, waking me up from my worry daydream. I blinked at him, almost forgetting where I was for a moment. 

Then a camera outside the window flashed, nearly blinding me and I realised we had arrived. 

//

My heartbeat seemed to thrum in my ears, so loud it drowned out the screams of the fans waiting outside on the red carpet. 

The red carpet where Harry was going to be. 

My limbs felt as heavy as lead, too heavy to move. The only thing that got me out of the limo (which I was very reluctant to leave) was Dad's arm linked around mine. He practically dragged me outside with a determined look on his face. 

The chauffeur climbed back into the car and drove away. I watched him leave with a longing gaze, knowing escape was an unrealistic dream now. 

I turned away from the road and was instantaneously blinded by the flashes from cameras. They popped in front of my eyes like little balloons of white. 

I quickly blinked to regain some form of vision then asked Dad, "Why are they taking photos of me and you? I thought they only bothered taking photos of the famous people."

He smiled at me a little sadly, "You are famous, India. At least among some circles."

I gave him a confused look to which he replied with, "You and Harry weren't exactly private about your relationship. The whole crew knew, those photos from the airport went viral- all the press want to know about the mystery girl Harry dated."

"You're kidding me," I swallowed as my heart reached my throat. I'd been too wrapped up in work to notice what was going on in the outside world and the revelation didn't exactly help my nerves. Now I had not only the pressure of seeing Harry again but also having to face him in front of an audience of people waiting to see what would happen.