My Beloved ~ H.S.

Prologue: Don't Panic

I recognize the signs immediately but it's never happened during a show, at least not since I've been around, so I'm not sure what to do. Should I go to him? Leave him be and hope he makes it through? Maybe it's just a minor attack this time, maybe it will be ok. I glance over at Sadie sitting at her drum set and she is already looking at me, sticks poised in the air. She looks from me to Harry and then back to me again, terror in her eyes. Shit. I look back over at Harry who has now crossed to stage left, closer to me. His mic is still in his hand, the long chord trailing behind it, and he is looking out at the screaming fans with a smile on his face. But I know better, it's a forced smile which doesn't reach his eyes, one he reserves for when he's trying to pretend he's ok. Look at me Harry, just look at me, let me know you're ok. I will him to look in my direction, to show me some sign that it's not as bad as it looks. As if reading my thoughts, he runs his free hand through his mop of hair and finally turns his panic-stricken eyes to me, where only I can see. His eyes hold a tortured expression, one that seems to scream "Help me." My heart feels as though it's turned to lead and my eyes go wide. The crowd will surely begin to notice soon that he is not speaking, not cueing up the next song. I look out toward the sea of fans, cell phones held up everywhere, surely capturing this moment for all the world to see. There are seven other people on this stage but I feel like it's up to me to fix this. To help him. The way that only I seem to be able to. I have to do something, now. I give him an imperceptible nod and yank my mic away from its stand. I have never addressed the crowd on my own, not even once, but I know that's what I must do in this moment. With trembling hands I bring the mic to my mouth and begin to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" My voice floats across the venue and the level of screaming drops an octave. "We are going to take a short break but we'll be back soon!" I can hear an audible "Aww..." sweep across the stadium, but I ignore it as I see out of my peripheral vision the rest of the band quickly leaving their spots to exit the stage. Harry is still rooted to the spot, his hands on his knees, taking short gasps of breath, the mic abandoned to the ground. Luckily he appears to be somewhat hidden from view by a pair of large speakers. I shove my mic back in its stand which creates an annoying squealing sound and cross to him quickly. Placing my hand against his back which is soaked with sweat, I push lightly to indicate for him to move. He finally stumbles forward to make his way off the stage and I silently pray that no one has noticed his odd behavior. We follow the rest of the band off and they all scatter in different directions, knowing that the last thing Harry needs is people crowding around him. Once we are hidden from the prying eyes of the audience, I grab his hand and pull him to the closest available private space I can find, which happens to be a small work closet titled, UTILITY. Closing the door swiftly behind us, I flip on the wall light and guide him against the door to lean against. Stepping as close to his body as I can, I press my hands to either side of his face. His eyes are screwed tight and his breaths are coming out in small ragged puffs. "Harry, look at me", I say firmly. He continues to squeeze his eyes shut, his eyebrows drawn so close together that the little lines between them are deeply etched into his forehead. I brush his sweat soaked hair away from his eyes and try and smooth the creases with my thumb. "Harry!" I practically yell inches from his face. At this his eyes pop open and he looks around a bit before focusing on my eyes. He blinks several times and then whispers my name as if he didn't even realize I was here.

"Kate?" I relax but only slightly.

"Yes Harry. It's me, I'm here." At the mention of "here", he looks around the small space and starts to breath heavily again, panic taking over once more. I force his face back to mine and speak solidly once again. "Harry you're ok. I have you. Everything is ok. Nothing can hurt you here. We're ok." I keep repeating the mantra over and over again, it usually doesn't take this long to calm him and I wonder what will happen if he can't go back out. All those fans... "We only have a few songs left", I say as a reminder that we still have a show to finish.

"Kate, I c-can't...I can't go back out there...not like this...", he gasps between breaths. It's really bad this time.

"Yes you can Harry. You can do anything. Remember who you are. Remember what you've done for those people out there. What you've done for your band. What you've done for me", I all but whisper. He finally focuses on my face for more than five seconds, scanning my features and I suddenly feel a bit self-conscience being this close to him. I keep talking to distract myself from the intimacy of the situation. "Remember your breathing Harry. In through the nose, out through the mouth." I demonstrate for him as I say the words, taking long deep breaths and letting them out just as slowly. He begins to mimic my actions, his eyes darting between mine as he does.

"Kathryn...", he whispers and I bring my forehead to touch his. He closes his eyes and his breathing begins to slow.

"I'm here...", I murmur and close my eyes as well. My hands are still pressed against his face and my body is as close as it can be without actually touching. I feel his arms go around my back as he pulls me flush against him and I gasp at the proximity of our bodies. Heat radiates off him and I feel my pulse quicken against my will. Suddenly his body collapses and we slide down the door together, still wrapped up in each other, and I grasp his shoulders to keep from crashing to the floor. His head falls to my shoulder as he clings to me, his breathing finally beginning to calm as his body trembles slightly.

"Please don't ever leave me", he murmurs against my neck and the vibration of his lips sends shockwaves through my body. I know rationally that I can't promise him this. Eventually I will have to leave, he will move on and I will do the same. But here in this tiny supply closet, his arms wrapped around me so tightly that I can feel his pulsating heartbeat, our bodies pressed dangerously close together, I can't bring myself not to say it.

"I promise Harry", I assure him as I run my hands through his damp hair.

"Say it, say you won't leave me", his words are muffled and desperate against my hair. He's really going to make me say it isn't he?

"I won't leave you. I promise." I can only hope that he won't hate me too much when I inevitably have to break that promise.