Stage Lights || H.S.

the red seats

I caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower as we rode across Paris. Harry and I sat in the backseat of the large blacked out car, his hand rested on my knee and the other held his phone on which he typed angrily, his eyebrows knitted together, his tongue in between his lips.

"What's wrong?"

"Huh?" He looked up at me, his eyes suddenly softening.

"I asked what's wrong?"

"Nothing, love. Just making sure everything is in order."

"I thought that was Jeffrey's job."

"Well, yeah. But I just like to make sure everyone's happy."

He locked his phone and put it down. Harry wore a black sweater and light wash jeans, his hair damp and his lips smirking at me. He was genuine and good, singlehanded the greatest person I had ever crossed paths with.

"Are you happy?" I asked making he chuckle.

He reached for my hair, pushing it back. "Of course." His phone screen flashed and he glanced at it before looking back at me and intertwining our fingers together. "Sarah's making a banana cake for dessert for you, and I got steak and asparagus in the main meal since you prefer it over chicken."

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to. I want you to feel welcome." I nodded. "And there's also oat milk vanilla lattes for you, in case you want coffee." 

"Thank you." I leaned in to leave a peck on his lips, he smiled.

"Another one." He whispered, I leaned in again for another kiss. "Perfect"

He pulled away and so did I, sliding my body across the leather seats. I was busy staring at our fingers intertwined and the way he rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb, and almost didn't notice how he leaned his head, forehead on the car window, eyebrows knitted together and sad eyes that showed how far away from that back seat his mind was.

"H..."

"I'm sorry." He smiled lightly.

"Do you regret... having me here?"

Harry took a deep breath. "You want to know what I'm thinking about?" He didn't let me answer. "I'm think about what it'd be like if I wasn't... you know, me. The things we could do." He looked down at my hands and then up at my eyes, the corner of his lips turning into a smirk. "We could rent bikes and ride it around the city, stop at a small shop and buy a baguette, strawberries and wine, and sit at the park all afternoon. And you'd lay in the grass with your head on my lap and I'd play with your hair while we talk about music and stupid movies. You'd smoke a cigarette and your lips would taste like it but I wouldn't care cause I'd be so happy to have you there in my arms, you'd make the smoke taste like the best thing in this planet. I'd even take a Polaroid if you and tape it to my bedroom wall to never forget that day." He lets out a chuckle. "But that will never happen, I can never do that without getting mobbed or having our picture taken and sold for thousands." He shook his head. "If I weren't me we wouldn't have met."

It took me a minute to digest his words. The vomit of thoughts that I asked for -and thought that I wanted- but now wished he'd kept to himself because my fingers were tingly and my stomach looping inside of me. And words escaped me.

"That's not true. I don't believe that."

"Why not?"

"Because we— I needed you." He chuckled, looking down at our hands once again. "You would've been in my life no matter what."

"You're right." He said. It sounded more like Harry wanting to end the conversation than agreeing with what I had said.

So the rest of the ride was silent, not that there was much left till we got to the venue. The concert in Paris was at the L'Olympia Bruno Coquatrix, it was grand and beautiful, red hallways as we were led backstage. Harry didn't let go of my hand, always keeping me close, so close our shoulders seemed connected. He handed our jackets to one of the workers and we kept walking until we reached a sign, stage door.

I had been on stages before; small ones, big ones, festivals, all over the country. But this was huge and like nothing I'd seen before. It was completely empty, not one person filled the room. Harry's hand let go of mine as I continued walking across the wooden floored stage, in awe. The room was bright, almost hurting the eyes, the velvet seats a beautiful shade of red.

I felt his arms wrap around my waist and flip me around. "This is so pretty." I span, taking another glimpse of the room.

"I like my view much better." He backed up, his eyes glued on me.

"Oh yeah?"

He nodded. "Mhm."

I moved across the stage to kiss his lips, just a small kiss without wanting to catch the attention of the people working or his band that was now getting set up to soundcheck.

"Well, I think—" I tried to move away but he pulled me closed by the waist to kiss me one more time before letting me go. "I think that I could get used to this. And soon I'll take over and become more famous than you."

"I think you could rule the world, Luna Davis." I laughed, spinning on the hard wood floor.