Meet Me In The Hallway // H.S. ✓

Chapter 9

~Just let me know I'll be at the door, at the door,

Hoping you'll come around~

"We're White Eskimo, and for you Ireland - we're debuting our first song. It's called Home." Harry spoke into the microphone.

Puberty had done him well. Just two short years later, he was taller than everyone in the band and a total heartthrob with the curliest curls. His voice had also gotten remarkably deeper, making his singing voice tremendous.

Two years of traveling Europe with his best friends. Harry still had not gone home to Holmes Chapel, but he sent presents to his family and called often. He was still a mummy's boy, just all grown up now.

It had taken a while to get the song fully ready - but it was out on Youtube and doing remarkably well. It was a good song - Harry and Will were the main writers of it. And tonight, for their gig in Nowhere, Ireland, they were singing it live for the first time on the stage of a pub.

Will started. "Make a little conversation, so long I've been waiting, to let go of myself and feel alive.

Nick came in for the next bit. "So many nights I thought it over, told myself I kind of liked her, but there was something missing in her eyes."

Finally, Harry came in as they went into the chorus, and Nick joined him to harmonize. And by the end of the song, the crowd was in a good mood and seemed to be enjoying their performance. Harry was buzzing through and through.

---

The group had a little van that held all of their equipment, and that also held them a lot of the times. Harry couldn't count all of the nights that he had slept in between Brad's drumset and Will's guitars on the way to somewhere else. So many places.

As they packed up from their performance, a drunk Irishman came around to the back, a bottle in his hand. "That was great, guys!" He slurred, tripping over a brick. His hat fell off, revealing dyed-blonde hair.

"Let's get out of here before he attacks us or something." Nick rolled his eyes at Harry, who's chest panged as it always did. Two years of being hopelessly in love with Nick and doing nothing about it. Will and Brad knew, of course. Because how could they not?

"I'm not going to hurt you guys." Niall got up off of the ground. "Just wanted to pay my respects to the awesome band."

"Well, thanks. But we've got to be off." Harry smiled politely, and then they left in their van. He sat in the passenger seat for now, and Will was driving. "He was right, our performance was amazing."

"We're good song writers." Nick was drinking water and grabbing a blanket. "Back to the hotel, then, boys? And the ferry in the morning?"

"To Paris for the holidays!" Brad shouted, already sleepy.

Harry smiled at his family and then looked at the road ahead and thought about what lay ahead.

---

"I love being in Paris. All of the girls are so hot." Nick pretended to swoon into Will's arms, and Harry just kept packing up, trying not to blow his cover. But Nick kept pushing it. "I think I'll go back into the bar after this, mates. Pick up one or two of them. Take them back to my room."

At that moment, a girl came up to their van. She was visibly sober, and smiling widely. "Well, hello there." Nick licked his lips seductively, but the girl beelined to Harry, who was attempting to get into the van.

"Leaving so soon? I'll buy you a drink, come on." She had a French accent, and Harry was too mad at Nick to argue.

"Anywhere but this bar." He said to her, and she dragged him down the street.

Harry, even though he was the heartthrob of the band, had never had a girlfriend or hooked up with anyone before at that point. But that night, maybe it was everything that pushed him to the breaking point. Nick not being interested in him, Harry's desire to prove he wasn't gay, or maybe it was just Paris. The city of love.

"I'm Emily," She told him. "Emily Atack. And you?"

"Harry. Harry Styles." He said, and he kissed her.

---

The next morning, Harry returned to his own hotel room with a ripped shirt and only one shoe. "A wild night?" Brad asked, a wispy Sharpie mustache on his face. Will was passed out on the bed, and Nick was nowhere to be seen.

The group was low on funds, so they always only got one hotel room and slept wherever they could.

"Indeed," Harry answered him, flopping next to Will, who stirred immediately.

"Harry banged that chick." Was the first thing he said. Harry didn't say anything in response, which proved the rumor true and the both of them cackled.

"Ah, to be young and in love and in Paris," Harry's face showed visible pain, and the two of them knew why.

Nick.

"Is this some sort of quest to prove that you're not gay?" Will said it. "Because it doesn't matter all that much. Labels are for losers."

Harry just tried to bury his face in his pillows. "I'm seeing her again tonight. Emily."

"Paris really is the city of love. Maybe she'll help you get over our sullen bandmate."

"I hope so," Harry whispered, but it was mostly to himself.

---

December went by in a whirlwind. There were performances aplenty across the city, and Harry fell in love to the backdrop of the Seine.

Every second he had free, it was spent with Emily, exploring and making love. He learned a lot that month, in more areas than one. Harry felt a real connection to her - he never thought that they would just be a fling. But everyone else thought otherwise, and tensions came to a head after Nick saw a present in the back of the van addressed to Emily.

"What is this?" He slammed the box into Harry's chest

"Christmas present for my girlfriend." Harry's eyes were wide. Will and Brad came to Harry's defense immediately, trying to calm Nick down.

"You haven't been practicing with us, and you were almost late tonight!" Nick yelled, and Brad backed off, knowing that Nick had a point.

"The key word there is almost." Harry said, casting the box to the side. "And maybe you could go without throwing that box around. I spent a lot of money on those heels." He brushed Nick off, deciding to walk to wherever he wanted to go that night. "I'll see everyone tomorrow!" He called.

That night, as he laid in Emily's bedroom, drawing circles on her hand, he said softly to her, "I love you. It's been so short of a time, and I love you."

"Oh, Harry!" She smiled and kissed him. "I love you too. My big clumsy English boyfriend."

"I am not clumsy." He pouted.

"Okay, okay," She backed off, and they sealed their love with a kiss.