Chapter 9

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"To my best mate, Harry Motherfucking Styles!"

Three champagne flutes clashed together as Niall made his ever so passionate speech, and I let the cold liquid slide down my throat, enjoying my first drink pf the night.

The after party was packed to say the least, and almost every guest had made a a wardrobe change, their new attire even more outstanding than the last. Celebrities went from one to another, drinks in hand, celebrating their peers and cracking jokes with their competitions.

It was always an interesting concept to me, putting all of us in the same room, so close in contact with those who were supposed to be our competition.

A part of me believed it was all a ruse, these award shows, to [it us against eachother and then force us to act civil.

Regardless, it didn't take away from the fact that tonight, I had one my very first, very own Grammy.

"God, how does it feel, Harry?" James questioned while downing his own drink.

Even though he wasn't technically an artist, he was still invited to many after parties, and even to events themselves.

"Unreal," I answered breathlessly.

"That speech," Niall beamed "It was beautiful, Harry. Hands down one of the best I've ever heard.

Before I had time to thank him, another voice interjected.

"I quite liked your speech myself as well, actually. It was touching."

My blood froze and i felt chills circle at the back of my neck. It was a voice I couldn't mistake. A soft, doncaster accent with a twinge of unintentional sass. It hasn't changed at bit.

"Congratulations Harry. You deserve this, truly."

I turned around to face Louis, only to be faced with his fiance as well, beaming at hi sisde, her arm interlaced with his. Louis wore a soft smile as he extended his drink for a cheers, but i could read something else behind it.

I tried with everything in me to mask the fear I wore in my face, but judging by Niall's uncomfortable gaze of unapproval, I was unaccomplished.

"Thank you, Louis." I willed my voice to steady as i clanked my glass with his and offered him a smile.

He only nodded briefly before turning away, willing Eleanor to follow him. She shot me an apologetic smile, before turning, and i could sense him speaking to her in a hushed tone before they disappeared into the crowd.

"You okay, mate?"

I felt Niall's hand on my shoulder and noticed that I hadn't moved since they had departed. shock and disbelief paralyzing me.

I snapped out of it, bringing the rest of my drink to my lips and taking a huff.

"Yeah," I spoke unevenly. "Yeah I'm fine. Lets go get another drink, eh? I'm gonna need something a lot stronger than champagne to forget that that ever happened."


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By my third whisky, the memory of that horrid scene was finally starting to fade.

I wasn't drunk exactly - I promised myself not to get trashed at events like these for fear of embarrassment - but I was buzzed to the point of blissfulness.

By this point in the night, most people who felt they owed me a congratulations had already handed it out, and I was finally left to celebrate with my friends.

"God, did you even see how many awards Billie won? I mean the kids only 18 and she's an absolute genius!" Niall beamed across our table, his face flushed and puffy from the alcohol. Apparently, he had made no such promise to himself about the amount he drank at party's like these.

"She is," I agreed, being somewhat of a fan of the young artist myself, "That girl is going places for sure."

James nodded in agreement and began to tell us about her appearance on his show, and how genuinely sweet of a person she was.

I listened halfheartedly, but I couldn't deny the fact that my mind was in a different place.

"I quite enjoyed the speech myself"

The words played over and over in my head like a scratched record, the sound of his voice almost deafening. The tone of his words so genuine yet so mysterious.

What did it mean?

Was that his way of extending an olive branch? Or was it his way of telling me he knew the true meaning behind my speech, hell, the true meaning behind my album in general?

Was it genuine civility, or backhanded cruelty?

God, I needed another drink, didn't I?

Without a word to the other boys, I made my way to the bar, desperate to ease the pain my memories were causing me. Despite the shivers that crawled up my spine every time I was reminded of tonight's earlier activities, I felt warm and exceptionally fuzzy. Although the room wasn't exactly spinning yet, my surroundings did seem to start to noticeably pulsate somewhere around my third drink.

Alright, so maybe I didn't need another drink. Maybe I was only one drink away from breaking my ever so valuable rule - Never get wasted at an after party.

But Fuck it, right? I mean if there was ever a night that I deserved to break a rule, it was this one.

As i leaned against the bar to steady my balance i ordered my drink - Gin & Tonic, just to switch it up - and shut my eyes as I waited for the bartender to return.

"Harry?" A soft and familiar female voice greeted me, and I had to stop myself from jolting.

Jesus Christ. Was I ever going to get a break tonight, or was the universe trying to torture me?

As I looked up into Eleanor's soft and emerald eyes, I immediately felt guilty for the amount of sass my inner monologue had given her.

Although our situations were odd, Eleanor and I were once extremely close. Best friends, even, at some points in the past. Even during the hardest parts of our "situation" she had never been cruel to me, and even helped me through a lot of it.

I had no reason to hate her, and even less of a reason to shy away from her.

"El," I cleared my throat as i straightened up. "Hey."

It was a lame way to greet her, I knew that, but there were a million things running through my mind, and my conversational skills were never very extraordinary under normal circumstances.

"I just wanted to say again, congratulations. Your speech - well it really was beautiful harry. You always did have such a way with words."

"Erm, thank you," I breathed. "I was just being...honest."

She smiled softly and I could sense that she knew more about that honesty than she cared to admit.

"And it was honest, Harry." She continued as the bar tender handed my drink to me. "So honest, in fact, that I think it touched a lot of people. Even some who aren't ready to admit it yet."

What the hell was she talking about? She didn't seem to be drunk, but her cryptic words seemed almost intoxicated with mystery.

But before I had the chance to question her, Eleanor's phone made a sound and she began to gather herself, as if getting ready to depart.

"Would you mind telling Louis that I'm leaving, my ride is here and I don't want to make them wait."

I followed her, confused into the crowd of people, almost chasing after her at this point.

"What? What do you mean?" I Called. "Can't you tell him yourself?"

She stopped for a moment and gave me a smile I hadn't seen her wear in years. Hopeful, hidden and knowing.

"I have a feeling you'll be seeing him a lot sooner than I will be, Harry."

And with that, she dissipated into the crowd, leaving me to question if the conversation we had just had had even happened at all.


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