Cherry Bomb [h.s]

30

By the time we arrive for soundcheck, Zayn and I are only a little buzzed. We kept ourselves in check by grabbing coffee after lunch, followed by bottles of water in the limo.

When we walk into the venue, Harry is standing in the corner, talking to Atticus about something. Meanwhile, Niall is showing off his acoustic guitar skills to Willow while they both hum along. And of course, Louis is ranting about something to a very over-it looking Liam.

Angel stands in a corner, arms crossed and eagle-eyed as usual.

I turn my attention back to Harry. He keeps running his hand through his hair, not even noticing the habit. When he finally notices me, he gives me a once-over with his eyes, followed by a small smirk. He turns back to Atticus, says something, then starts walking in my direction.

"Well, look who's actually late for once," he says to Zayn, "Looks like Sunshine is a bad influence."

"If anyone's the bad influence around here, it's you." I reply.

"Let's get started, guys!" Atticus raises his voice over all the conversations, "You know the drill," he makes eye contact with me, nodding to the stage.

I can feel Harry's eyes on me the whole time, his presence becoming almost necessary at this point. His incessant need to be intimidating is like some sort of pre-show ritual.

When we hop offstage, Harry's turned to typing on his phone before shoving it in his pocket and getting onstage himself. About a minute later, my own phone buzzes.

Unknown Number:
- Have Any More Plans With Your Boy Toy Tonight?

I roll my eyes and look onstage, where the band is still getting set up. Harry occasionally pulls out his phone to check it, putting it back in his pocket.

Spencer:
- you can cut the bullshit now, Harold. I know it's you.

At this point there's no other explanation. No one could possibly know about our rendezvous'.

I stare at the stage, afraid to blink and miss Harry's response. But he doesn't pull out his phone again, and not long after they begin playing a song from tonight's set list.

And then, after they're about a minute into their song, I get a response.

Unknown Number:
- Darling, I Already Told You. I'm Not Him.

I take pause, looking from my phone to Harry singing, then back to my phone.

I think I knew deep down that it wasn't him, it couldn't be him. But I really, really hoped it was just him fucking with me.

I try to shake off this feeling I have, the same one that's been following me since that first text from this person. 

I barely even register that Ardere has finished playing, and that Harry's already walking to the edge of the stage to jump off. He lands not far from where I'm standing, while I'm still contemplating whether to say anything to him about the texts.

"What's wrong, sunshine? Was I not entertaining enough for you today?" He teases, snapping me out of my thoughts. 

"Oh you mean like every day?" I tease back, trying to distract my thoughts. 

"Ouch," he clutches his hand to his chest and shakes his head, but his face is all smiles. 

He looks around a moment, making sure everyone's distracted before lowering his voice. 

"We still need to make up for last night, you know," he says, "How about we try again after the show?" 

"Or..." I say, "We could do it now."