"Mum..." Harry said it hesitantly.
It was Sunday morning. His father was golfing, but she was sitting there in the kitchen, drinking her coffee and reading the paper on her iPad. Harry was preparing his breakfast; eggs, toast, coffee, water, sausage, beans... Loading up on carbs and protein, essentially. For lunch, he'd have rice with avocado and salmon. His bag was already packed and waiting at the door. He was ready for tonight. There was only one thing he wanted to do that he hadn't already.
His mother looked up from the iPad and blinked at him, a little smile on her lips. "Yes, darling?"
"Tonight, my football team's playing our last match. It's the final of... a cup, and it would mean a lot to me if you and dad were there to watch it."
He looked at his plate as he spoke. He'd been thinking about it all week, but it wasn't until last night that he decided to ask them. The conversation with Louis on the bed, all those weeks ago before the semi-final, Louis had told him to ask them. Last night, Harry had begged Louis to listen to him, but how could he expect Louis to do that if Harry never listened in return? So, he was taking his advice.
It only took his mother a moment to answer. "Yes. Of course, dear. I'll call your father right now. What time?"
Harry's shoulders sagged and he inhaled in relief, the anxious yarn in his stomach beginning to unknot. "It starts seven-thirty."
That early evening, walking towards the locker room, it had never felt as good looking up at the bleachers. For once, someone would be there, not rooting for the team, but for him. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his mother in the stands.
He got dressed slowly, nerves trickling through his limbs as he moved. His fingers felt like honey, and the little braid in his curls he made and tucked under a thin headband came out wonky. He tied the captain's armband around his bicep, feeling the pressure of the elastic material squeeze. Usually, it felt right. Not tonight. He'd worked hard for this team, but deep down he knew that Louis had worked harder. On the night that the scouts would be there to watch them, it didn't feel fair that Harry should get the privilege of wearing it. He had already been accepted.
"Boys," he said, looking around at the group of lads dressing by his side. "I know that we always switch who's captain, and it's my turn tonight... but if you're all okay with it, I'd like to give it to Louis. I think he has fought very hard this year to make all of us a better team, so... I think it's only fair that he's our captain tonight. Is that okay?" He looked at them all, their eyes wide with surprise at the gesture. They had witnessed the fight on Wednesday and felt the tension it had caused throughout the week that had passed.
"Yes, of course," Liam said firmly.
"Yes, mate," Stan nodded. The rest of them agreed, standing up and giving him a clap on the shoulder each. Harry nodded. Good. He felt a little bit better.
After a few minutes of finishing touches on his kit, he heard, "Styles, can you come out with me?" It was Coach.
Harry followed him out of the locker room and around the building, stopping only when they reached a man and a woman. They wore casual clothes, the man with brown eyes and dark skin, the woman pale and dark-haired. Coach introduced them as Gary Cooper and Belinda Madden. Harry instantly wondered why Coach kept springing these things on him, but smiled and shook their hands, politely answering their questions.
"Looking forward to seeing you play, Harry. We've seen a lot of video content, but it's exciting to see you in real action." Mrs. Madden genuinely looked intrigued, and Harry hoped he wouldn't disappoint her.
Mr. Cooper pointed at the armband around his bicep as Harry was about to return to the locker room with Coach. "Good luck, Captain."
"Thank you, sir," he smiled, but it vanished as they began walking away. "Why did you do that to me without warning?" he exhaled heavily, but Coach only laughed, winking knowingly.
