"You said, no you sang, you sang that everything was gonna be alright. You said that we'll be alright, Harry. But did you mean that?"
Where Belle Olivia Granger encounters five young boys who happen to be in the biggest boyband on the planet, and sh...
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This is a moment I know I won't soon forget. If I thought witnessing the last show of tour, surrounded by the boys' friends and family was hard, nothing could prepare me for their last performance ever with no one to hold my hand while I cry.
The stage is illuminated with gold lights and pictures shining across the screens from 2010 all the way to now. Each boy is spotlighted and Zayn isn't forgotten which is the first thing to send tears down my face. Sometimes I hate the fact that I'm a crier now when I never used to be before, but if I'm going to get emotional, at least it's at the hand of the five boys that saved me. They've earned my stupid tears.
Around me the crowd is screaming, some crying. The judges sit idly at their tables, none quite understanding what the world is losing, because to them, One Direction is just another boyband in the industry that they look at and see dollar signs instead of people.
Chills race down my spine, causing me to wrap my arms around myself and squeeze tight, but not because of the boys onstage who get the entire audience to start clapping, but because of the cold dead eyes of Simon Cowell shooting a suspicious look my way that makes me extremely uncomfortable.
I hate him. I truly do hate him for everything he's put the boys through, and for never relenting with overworking them. Sometimes I wonder if he has ever felt remorse for being the reason Zayn's anxiety spiked so terribly, or that Niall couldn't have knee surgery when he needed it, or for causing Liam to rely on alcohol to relieve his stress, or for trapping Harry in a vicious womanizing lie that will always follow him. Hell, I wonder if Simon ever regrets what he did to Louis- stealing his happiness away and forcing him to change to better suit what the coldhearted man desired.
But then I remember... his pockets were overflowing from it all, so no. Simon Cowell didn't and doesn't care. The only thing he probably regrets is agreeing to let the boys out of their prison sentence five years early.
I've always known that management hates me for reasons I can't explain other than having Harry's heart, but I've never been scared of them despite always knowing they could end me with a snap of their fingers. However, I've never come in contact with the king of it all, and the way he's looking at me suggests something other than death he wishes for me. His dark beady eyes almost suggest he wants to trap me next.
Harry starts to sing, his voice a few octaves lower than usual as he glares at Simon, not even trying to hide is disdain until his eyes land on me, and his voice goes back to normal, eyes softening as I lightly smile at him. I want nothing more than for him to enjoy these last few moments, so I nod to him that I'm fine and try to signal with my eyes to just let loose and take it all in.
Hugging the bright yellow sweater I wear closer to my body, I quickly divert my attention from Simon and watch as the boys prance around stage dressed in their finest suits which is a far cry from the sweater and jeans that I wear.
