Cherry Bomb [h.s]

12

 ^ I made a fun little tour date poster for Ardere & Cherry Bomb!

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"Styles! Jameson! You're both late!" Atticus yells at us when we walk into the venue, both of us in a bitchy mood. 

"Oh come on, we're barely late." Harry says. 

"Barely late? It's after 4:30, Styles! What the hell were you two even doing?" Atticus asks, looking between the two of us. 

"Nothing to write home about, alright. Let's just get this done with." I say, surprising myself. I usually tried not to show my temper with managers until at least the third concert. 

"Just get on the stage, Jameson." Atticus demands, but keeps his angry gaze on Harry. It seems that those two butt heads a lot. 

"Where the hell have you been?" Amber asks as she walks onto the stage with me, "And with him?"

"Don't ask." I say simply, then pick up my guitar. 

"Ready girls?" I ask Amber and Willow and they nod. "Ready up there?" I ask the sound booth.

"Ready when you are," a voice answers over the speakers. 

As we perform portions of our songs for tonight, I can feel Harry's eyes on me. But something about his stare feels... different. Not like his usual intimidating stare. Unlike all the other times, though, I don't even look in his general direction. 

He was not going to get to me, not after what he pulled earlier today. 

I try to leave as soon as we're done with our portion of the sound check, but Atticus insists that we all stay for the whole time, which I think is bullshit but whatever. 

Ardere goes up on stage for their soundcheck, and I make a point of looking at anyone and anything except Harry. 

Instead, I decide to look to Zayn, who gives me a look of concern and confusion. 'I thought you hated him' he mouths to me, and I mouth back 'I do,' causing him to look even more confused. 

They begin playing their opening song, and I can see out of the corner of my eye that Harry is really giving it his all, probably because he wants me to look in his direction. But I won't give him the satisfaction. 

But then he does something unexpected, and stops singing. 

"Can we stop?" He asks into the microphone, and his bandmates all stop playing and look at him like he's crazy. 

"For fucks sake, what is it now?" Atticus asks, exasperated.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I can't focus with her being here." He spits out, obviously talking about me.

"I'm sorry, Harold, is my presence bothering you?" I ask, finally turning all of my attention to him. 

"As a matter of fact, it is," he says, then walks to the edge of the stage and jumps off, approaching me, "I find it hard to do anything else when you're standing there, simply because I'm so... disgusted by your appearance." 

I roll my eyes, not bothered by his attempts to insult me.

"Well that's just too damn bad, isn't it? But you're stuck with me, so deal with it." I stand my ground. I wanted to leave earlier, but now I was going to stay out of pure spite. 

"You really love testing me, don't you?" 

"I do," I admit shamelessly, and he chuckles dryly.

"I'd advise you to stop, sunshine, or else-"