Wistful Paradise / H.S. [COMPLETE]

Twenty

Florence

I arrived at the venue with Sarah, who was also busy planning everything for tonight. She made the calls and made sure we had our own section in the club, so Harry would also be at ease. With her drumsticks in hand, she announced: "Party at PPP tonight!"

There were a few cheers from Harry's bandmates and surprisingly Jeff too. He's always very business-mood-like, which I didn't mind at all, someone had to act like the grown-up among these rascals. Tonight though, I could see that he was ready to also forget about his assignments and let loose for a few hours.

To summarise, we had everything and everyone we needed to make tonight the best night of this tour.

Well, except for Harry.

When Sarah suggested the idea, he was hesitant. His green eyes flickered over to me and I shrugged slightly with a faint smile as if to say: let's just do it.

"I'm not so sure," He murmured nervously, tapping his foot slightly against the black tiles underneath him.

Mitch stepped up to him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. "Hazza, you up for tonight?" He asked him, slightly teasing because he knew Harry hated that nickname.

Harry groaned, dropping his head against Mitchs' shoulder while Sarah pleaded for him to join us tonight. When Mitch gave him his puppy dog eyes, I knew he wouldn't be able to say no to them.

"I'll see after the concert," Harry announced, earning a small cheer from Mitch.

Soon enough, Mitch was pulling Sarah away, claiming he wanted to let her hear a new tune. It left Harry and me alone and after this morning, I was not so sure if we should be left on our own.

He took a small step forward, opening up his mouth before closing it once again. I looked at him questioningly. "What's up?"

"Nothing," He quickly said, shaking his head. He looked down at the ground, his hand reaching forward to take my hand but then he retracted. I frowned as I watched his hands clasping behind his back.

When did it actually get to this point exactly? This wasn't us. We didn't fight for days or hold ourselves back from touching the other.

"Guys, ready for soundcheck?" A voice suddenly pulled Harry and me back to reality. I still noticed the slight nervousness in Harry's body language and I prayed to God that it wouldn't take over tonight.

The first song they started rehearsing, Harry seemed to forget his words every now and then. Then he would play the wrong chords and miss the high notes. There was a constant strain on his voice during soundcheck and I saw how disappointed he was in himself.

During one of his more upbeat songs, he just wasn't into it as much as he normally is. "Stop, stop," He mumbled when he had missed another beat.

"You got to get you shit together, mate," Mitch told him silently, but everyone could hear it due to his microphone still being on.

Heavy puffs of air left his chest quickly, his panicked eyes looked across the room, right into my eyes. His look seemed like a silent cry for help, but I didn't know if it would be welcome.

Jeff walked up to him, asking if he was alright when his breathing started to pick up. I'd seen this before, this was the beginning of one of his panic attacks. "Harry, relax, everything will be okay. Do you need help? Can I do something?"

Harry shook his head, our eyes meeting one last time before he stormed off, completely disappointed in himself. Sarah and Mitch knew what was going on and they frowned, feeling bad for their best friend. Mitch and Sarah were the first people he told about his condition since they've been joining Harry on tour since the beginning of his career. The others never really knew what was up with him.