When Zoey and Harry find themselves both calling the same hotel home for an extended time, a friendship begins. A connection that started from convenience is fueled by alcohol, drugs, trauma, music and fun. How will this intense relationship end?
*...
Tonight was the night. We were dressed, we had sound checked, we were ready. I didn't feel my usual excitement, or adrenaline surging through me as I stretched and jumped around while warming up. I knew why, it was because part of my heart was empty. Heartbreak had never effected me like this before at a show, but I knew I had never really known this kind of loss before so I couldn't expect it to be the same. I just hoped that once I was out on that stage I could feed off the energy of the crowd and get through. This was for my fans, about my fans, because of my fans.
As the band and I huddled together before taking the stage, Mitch caught my eye. He gave me a nod and a smile (which was a lot from him). We went through our ritual and said a prayer, and then the band took off to take the stage. I dragged behind for a few minutes, listening to the crowd roar for them all as they got in position. I took 10 slow, long, deep breathes and then walked out onto the stage.
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Zoey's POV
We made it to New York, booking the same hotel that Isla and Sean would later meet us at. I spent a few days exploring the city, and just trying to keep myself sane as I waited for the night of the show. I felt like I was approaching a huge pinnacle in my life, and I was terrified that this wouldn't work. He wouldn't see me, or worse- he wouldn't want to see me. I kept thinking about what I would do if this didn't work....what would my next step be. Did I return to San Francisco, and my photography? I didn't feel like that would satisfy me anymore. How could I go on without him and still feel like a full person?
I tried to push these worries down as Isla and Sean arrived and I began learning about how to best get his attention. Sean had been to 2 shows of Harry's before and he seemed to be a wealth of knowledge, which was hilarious. He was indeed a fangirl, and it didn't bother him in the least. He was proud as fuck. He said that Harry helped teach him, long before he got to know him, how to embrace yourself without any of the pressures of stereotypes of gender roles and it helped him learn to love himself more.
My heart swelled for Sean, and also for Harry. He was helping so many people feel comfortable being themselves and promoting such wonderful messages just by being himself. I loved it, so much. I loved him.
We both took some drugs, kissed Isla goodbye finally and headed to MSG for the show. I wore a tailored black suit and curled my hair in big waves. Sean wore a bright pink shimmery blouse and tan pants, an apparent ode to Harry's previous tour. We had a huge sign folded up, and when we finally made it through security we headed straight to the bar. I had anxiety cursing through my veins. We took overpriced shot after overpriced shot. I could feel the euphoria and the liquor boosting me up when we finally pushed our way onto the main floor of Madison Square Garden. Sean led me to one side, and we wiggled as close as we could get. Sean stuck out like a sore thumb at 6 foot 4, much taller than the mostly female (and younger) crowd. I grinned up at him, so many girls were completely beside themselves checking him out.
