A Dreamers Dream

Showtime. Toronto, Canada.

Maddie's perspective.

Why the fuck did I let him talk me into this? I'm SO not ready. Not even a little bit. I haven't performed properly since before I joined the tour, and even then the venues I played in were like, a tenth the size of this bloody arena... I got all of twenty minutes rehearsal time earlier... just me and my guitar on the HUGE stage. Why does the stage need to be so big? Is it really necessary? I mean, if Harry was still in One Direction and needed space for five, or four later down the line, energetic boys to bounce about, plus a band, then I'd understand. But now? Really? The size of it is just egotistical. If it were shaped differently and I'd not had so much one on one experience with Harry's anatomy, I'd say that boy was overcompensating for something.

Realistically I know why I agreed to this ridiculous plan of his, it's because he doesn't play fair! Asking me to agree to do something so massive when I am half asleep, in the middle of the night, right after mind-blowing sex when he's only wearing a pair of pants and a smile... No woman would have been able to refuse him. I don't think many men would have been able to either... or animals, vegetables.. you get the idea. Those bloody eyes of his, with the slightly darker band of green bordering the sparkling pear coloured centre just see straight down into my soul and completely derail any logical thoughts my brain tries to have and leave me utterly unable to refuse him anything. It's a real issue... I need to work on it.

I am not ready for this. I can't quite decide if I want to cry, faint or throw up or a mixture of all three at once as my stomach clenches and I start to sweat profusely. Must remember to wear a LOT of deodorant tonight. God, I hope I don't puke on stage.

Making my way down the long corridors flanked by matching white doors which makes up the backstage area of the Air Canada Centre in Toronto, I can hear my heart attempting to burst out of my chest. Somewhere along here is the door with my name on it, because my boyfriend is just way too extra to have not taken advantage of the opportunity to stick a piece of A4 paper with his scrawled handwriting on it into one of those plasticy folders you used to use in school to keep your homework together and blue tack it to the door of the teeny tiny room that I've been allocated in to get ready, a room that is probably smaller than my old bedroom back at my parents' house but still feels way too big for just me to be sitting in, hence why I have spent the last half an hour wandering around the venue trying to desperately rid myself of my nerves before Harry's make up artist appears to make me presentable for the stage. Seriously, I have to learn to say no to him. Is it too late to cancel?

Just when I think I might faint from fear, I hear a familiar deep voice emitting from a little further down the hall, and a small smile breaks across my face. Harry. That's exactly who I need right now, a quick cuddle and some reassurance from him and I'll be able to do this, right? My feet start to move faster under me of their own volition as my body hurries to reach the sound of that slow sexy drawl, desperate for the comfort of my safe place, but as I near a slightly open door and start to be able to make out what he is saying, I come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the corridor.

"Ha! You really have nothing to worry about Kasey. Honestly, your job is safe, I promise. It's just, I don't know, I couldn't see how we could possibly get in touch with anyone and fly them out here in time to cover your spot, and I know it's something that she's always dreamed of, so I figured, why not?" Harry's voice carries down the hallway,

Even though I know I shouldn't be standing here listening to his conversation, I can't seem to help myself. My feet are frozen in place as my ears prick up, wanting to hear what he's going to say about me. Knowing Harry, it'll probably be something utterly embarrassing and overly sweet that I don't deserve. There is silence for a few moments before Harry speaks again, leading me to assume that he's on the phone, which makes sense as Kasey is tucked up in bed somewhere sick.