The Way I Feel Inside | h.s.

23

Bee's POV:

If the vanity hook-up wasn't enough to sober me up, the hassle that was exiting the Tacoma Dome definitely did the job.

"Just stay right next to me," Harry instructed me as we walked swiftly down the long hallway toward the exit doors, behind the same large security guard who escorted me to Harry's dressing room after the show. Maybe it wasn't swiftly for them and their long legs, but I had just gotten my ass railed and was feeling fairly tired and disoriented from this situation.

Harry spoke with several people before we left, and was nice enough to introduce me to all of them. His manager, tour photographer, the rest of the band, and other people who do other important jobs that I was no longer paying attention to. I felt like I was on information overload so I sort of dissociated. Thankfully all of the encounters were brief. I wondered again if that was just because he wanted to be brief, or if he noticed my behavior.

There weren't as many crew members running around now, just a few. Harry thanked and said good night to every one we passed as we walked down the long hallways.

The security guard reached the doors and stepped outside, letting them shut behind him. When I reached to push the door open, I felt Harry grab my upper arm and tug me back to face him.

"We have to wait til John comes back in to get us," he said calmly, pulling up the hood of his Gucci hoodie. He was dressed in all black with black joggers that also said "Gucci" in white block letters down one leg.

I scoffed at him. "That hood is not going to hide you. Who else would be leaving this building from a backstage entrance, wearing Gucci head-to-toe?" I eyed him up and down.

He looked down at his own outfit with his hands arms out to each side. "What? I'm just wearing sweats."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Gucci sweats." But I couldn't help but smile at the innocence in his voice.

The door opened and I heard some distant excited chattering. John's large frame slipped back into the building with surprising ease, and he shut the door again.

"Alright, we've got about thirty, they're fifty feet or so away. Got gates set up out there and two guys to hold 'em off. They're excited but it shouldn't be too bad," John told Harry. He stood in front of the door like a tower with his hands behind his back.

Harry nodded and reached into his duffle bag, pulling out the sunglasses I lent him when he left my apartment earlier today. He slid them onto my face slowly, then looked over my face before he fluffed up the shorter layers of hair around my face. He smoothed my longer layers back behind my shoulders.

I cocked my head at him as he then examined my entire body, pulling a couple of stray hairs off my blazer and finally putting his hands on my shoulders. "Ready?" He asked with a smile.

"There are fans out there," I stated slowly as my brain finally caught up. "People with phones."

His face dropped to a serious expression and he took a step closer to me, keeping his hands clutched on my shoulders. "Stay right next to me. I won't stop, I'll just wave and say a few things to them while we walk. You can put your hand up by your face and keep your head down while we walk. It'll take twenty seconds."

I crossed my arms over my chest and furrowed my brows at him. "I can't believe you just fixed me up like that. Do I not meet the standard for being seen in public next to you?"

Harry's eyebrows twitched up slightly before he tucked his lips into his mouth. "Your hair was messy, so I fixed it." He looked me up and down again. "Your pretty suit has been through some things tonight, so I was making sure it was..." He glanced over toward John, who was still standing in front of the door, "clean."