Before you go... //h.s

Treat People With Kindness

HARRY'S POV:

Iris called me, her slightly croaky voice proving to me that she'd been sobbing. But that she was desperately trying to hide it from me. Yet again, she was putting other's first and not wanting to burden me with her worries.

I met with Jeff for the first time in a few weeks, and although we have three tracks that I'm very happy with, Jeff is not happy. He says we need more; we need it quicker. And I knew that this pressure to get the album done was going to arise which is why I'd even taken the time out to go and see my family in the first place.

So now me and the rest of the band were in the studio, chords gently being plucked as conversations were thrown around as we tried to find something to inspire us.

Iris: Thank you, and I'm sorry xx

Harry: Don't be sorry, I know it can hurt. Call me if you ever need...

Since we weren't exactly getting much done in the studio as we all sat around aimlessly, I began to scroll backwards through our texts, smiling as I read all the memories. But a particular text stands out, a text I only sent to her yesterday 'treat other people with kindness.'

It's an important concept. Treat people with kindness, I mean. I hum softly under my breath playing those four words over in my head, wondering if I could do anything with them. Sarah, the drummer, picks up on the sound,

'Hey Harry, sing that louder will you?' she asks. My gentle rhythm vibrates around the studio whilst everyone else listens, Sarah softly taps her drumstick on her head as she thinks.

'D'you have any lyrics yet?' she asks, looking at me, and then at Mitch in order to get him to concentrate and help. Feeling the eye contact on him, he looks up defensively,

'What the hell are you looking at me for? Write your own fucking songs,' he says defensively, but with a wink in his eye.

'Um so yeah... I think maybe 'treat people with kindness'... it's a good message and it just feels important now,' I tell them honestly, reflecting on the hate my beautiful iris received today. Maybe if I begin to spread that phrase, my fans will listen. And stop hating on Iris hopefully.

Mitch nods along to the tune I sang that he's mirroring on his guitar, thinking over the concept. The studio is silent except for the strumming of Mitch's guitar.

Kindness. It's a weird thing really, but it makes everyone feel good. That's what I want this song to do, I want it to be upbeat and cheerful. Something people could have dance parties to, but definitely not something people could cry to. That's the good feeling I'm going to.

'Maybe...we can...find a place to feel good... and treat people with kindness,' Sarah begins, following along to the beat with her higher pitched voice singing the words. I smile, immediately liking the warmth she's bringing to the song. That's exactly what I want. 'Find a place to feel good...' she sings again, repeating herself.

'I've got a good feeling about this song. It's going to work,' I tell her confidently, hoping she will be able to read through the lines and realise that I really like what she just put together.

'I've got a good feeling,' Mitch mirrors my words, humming them to the tune. 'I'm just...takin' it all in...' he sings out, beginning a new section of the song.

'Floatin' up and dreamin'...I'm just... no, no that's not right, hang on...maybe droppin' into the deep end...' I follow Mitch's lines with my own, hesitating slightly but getting to the end. I jot everything down roughly on a pad of paper, smiling to myself as I see the cheerful mood in the lyrics.

An hour later, a rough outline of the song written, we head out the studio together feeling satisfied that we got something done. Jeff would be happy too. We were going to go back to the studio in a couple of days and record the song, making adjustments and changing things as we saw them: sometimes it was hard to see notes or words that didn't quite work until you heard them in the entirety of the song.

I headed home, back to the house. Although it felt more like home than my apartment in New York, it still wasn't really my home. It was decorated a bit more, there were things on the walls and it wasn't as pristine as my apartment in New York, the 'hotel room' as Iris liked to call it.

But it still wasn't home.

In all honesty, there was no place I could really call home. My apartment in New York was absolutely fucking not home, this house in LA was nice but just didn't have the warm, comforting feeling one should feel when they walked in the door of their home and my house in London... that was my favourite but I just didn't really spend enough time there for it to count as home.

I'd always loved the idea that you could find home in a person, or a thing. But I hadn't found that person yet, even if Iris was becoming more damn important by the day to me. I loved her idea to of yellow, maybe she'd found her home in her yellow. She'd claimed one of the first times we spent time together that she thought singing was my yellow. I hadn't disagreed because at the time, I'd thought she was right. But reflecting on it now, although I loved singing with my whole heart...it just didn't feel right – like the connection between my yellow and singing was missing. Maybe I hadn't found my yellow yet...maybe I'd never find it...

The thought made me unspeakably sad, so I hastily tried to move away from the topic, only to land straight back on it.

What was Iris' yellow? I'd never actually asked her... and then my mind filled with all of the unanswered questions or questions I'd never had time to ask her. I felt like she was one of the people closest to me...like I'd trust her with almost anything, but that was when I forgot we'd only know each other for four months and still had so much to learn about each other.

I wondered what she was doing right now, serving coffees most probably. I loved her in that cute little apron she had to wear while she was working. I loved that she worked at a coffee shop, I loved the normalcy of it. I could do more with more of that in my life, maybe that was why I'd been so drawn to her originally.

I flicked my telly on, opening Netflix and scrolling through the romantic comedies, seeing what I'd find. If only Iris was here and then we could cuddle and watch some old, cheesy film that she loved for some reason. Some old, cheesy film that I'd come to watch because I associated them with cosy evenings with her.

Oh my god, I was becoming such a fucking sap.

Another chapter in Harry's POV!!
I'm so proud of Harry getting a Grammy on Sunday and his performance was so good wow
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