Love on Tour

New York, NY

Walking the streets of New York feels like coming home. It's where you got your first apartment, you found out you were nominated for your first Emmy, and the first place you didn't feel like you were drowning when you were alone. That's how you spent your day alone, taking in the city and how it felt more crowded than usual.

Harry had decided to stay in Nashville with Tyler, who helped create his Grammy-winning song. He tried to convince you to stay, but you said no, promising to see him as soon as he arrived. The drive to New York was great; your bus mates had you laughing the entire way. No one was heading to bed until you were two hours in.

You were creating memories with people you had met two weeks ago. They had now felt like friends you could call if you were ever in any trouble (you wouldn't be). It was nice to enjoy. They made you feel like Y/N, as if you had never graced the big screen. You were their friend, and it felt nice to say that.

New York was full of dreams, and you wondered what it would bring.

_____

New York City, New York Night One

It was eight am, and Jeff had gotten you up early, saying he wanted to talk to you about your interview, and like a fool, you listened. He had treated you to breakfast, someplace hidden but close to your hotel room. You tried persuading him to eat in because you loved the view of the city from your room. You couldn't bear leaving. It was too mesmerizing. Food was his way of getting you to agree.

Breakfast was fine. He wanted to know what you were asked and if you were comfortable being associated with Harry. You answered honestly and told them you owed them nothing. You promised Jeff that no matter what you'd say, you're friends because it was easier that way. Also, it was no one's business but yours and Harry's.

You knew one conversation awaited you when Harry arrived, but you didn't mind. Well-- you did, but that's okay. You'd tell him your side of things, and hopefully, he'd agree. If not well, then you and Harry might have your first argument.

Harry was a private person, and you knew that. After your first public breakup at nineteen, so were you. There was not much you offered except photos of events and press. There was very little about your family, but one google search and everyone would get some kind of information about you. Never all of it. You'd never allow that. They could know where you grew up and what school you attended but not share anything you didn't want.

You're shaken out of your train of thought as Jeff waves at a person behind you. Probably, an old friend, you think as you drink your cranberry juice. The person blobs down next to you, and that familiar scent of woodsy cologne hits you.

"Missed me, darling?"

You snap your head to your left, and Harry is there dressed in his bright pink hoodie and yellow tote bag on his lap, covering his shorts. "H, you're back." You throw your arms around him, holding him tight. Before remembering, you're inside someone and likely caught a few people's attention. "Right, cool, nice to see you," you try to playoff.

Both men burst out laughing, causing you to join in as well.

"Smooth," Jeff comments.

"Shut it, Jeffery." Harry and you say in unison.

Jeff groans, "going to have to deal with the lot of you all day."

"Glenne's coming, so I think not."

You perk up at the name of Jeff's wife. You'll finally get to meet the woman he never stops speaking about. "When will we be meeting her?"

"At the arena, eat quickly. We're stopping at the hotel and then going to the garden."