Grace's POV
I had just finished my last journal entry to Harry, it was the day of the concert and my friend was already bothering me about how excited she was, I was excited too, but, I was nervous because, what if Harry actually picks this journal up? I was honestly having a mental debate if I should even pursue with my plan. Of course, I was going to throw it up there. I've been working on this journal for about 8 months. I was NOT going to just toss all my hard work and time into the trash.
"Should we just take an Uber? or we could drive, your car?" My best friend, Isabella asks. Although she was 23 and I had just turned 20 myself we got along really great. I met her through a shoot we both ended up modeling in. The campaign was a shot to stop bullying, which was something I struggled with as a teen so, I was more than willing to do it.
"If you want to take an Uber, I'm cool with it, we don't really have to worry about somewhere to park." We lived in Seattle but had a place in Los Angles for Fall and Winter months. Isabella grew up in Huston and I grew up in Portland. So, I guess we are polar opposites, but we get along really well.
"Okay I'll get an Uber." She pulls her phone out from her high wasted jean shorts.
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Our Uber driver was "Crazy cute" as Isabella would say, so we obviously flirted. Once we get to the stadium, I felt butterflies in the pit of my stomach. My mixed emotions were running high and I was a jumbled mess of excitement, nerves, and happiness. I poured my heart, mind, soul, stories and emotions into this journal and today is the day I throw it on stage to Harry Styles, taking a chance, a risk, that someone other than Harry would pick it up. I look at the floral patterned journal, clentched in my, white-knuckled hand. A medium length piece of masking tape was stuck to the front of the hard covered journal, with Harry's name neatly wrote on it. I remember using nearly a whole role of masking tape just to make the label. It was never perfect, it was either crooked, the piece was cut uneven, or I wasn't pleased with my handwriting. We had got the tickets from a radio station contest that I had won. I was really surprised when I actually won, I've never been in favor of luck. I remember what Isabella said when I told her that I wanted her to come she said "You say you've never been a lucky person, maybe it's fate, maybe something will happen that's significant, at the concert." I knew that this concert would be a normal one but, I couldn't help but let Isabella's words live in the back of my head. I guess my inner child was just pulling my leg.
We find our seats in the enormous stadium, we were certainly not the first people in line, the line was fairly long and it took a dreadful amount of time just to get to security.
About a half an hour goes by and everyone is settled into their seats. My heart beats fast when I see a certain curly haired boy come from the dark side of the stage. Harry, then Niall, then Louis, and lastly Liam. I did miss seeing Zayn because of his departure from the band, but the joy out rid the grief. The whole stadium hoot and hollered, screaming out the boys names.
"How are we doing tonight, Seattle?" Harry yells, waiting for a reply.
All the fans yell in pleasure.
"You guys, I can already tell, are gonna be a great crowd." Liam laughs.
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After the first two sets, the boys take a small break. Harry sits, his legs hanging off the stage, just about six feet away from me. Girls around me yelling at Harry trying to grab his attention. Isabella nudges me with her elbow, "Throw him your journal, Grace"
"Not yet." I clutch my journal to my chest.
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My window was closing and the boys were finishing up with their "massive thank you" speech. Harry's tall figure stood not to far from me and now was my chance. If I don't throw it, I'll never get the chance. I press my lips to the front of the journal, and take a deep breath. My arm reels back, with the journal in my hand, my fingers grim loosens in mid air, I see my jounal, my hard work, feelings, thoughts, my life, hit the hard black floor right in front of Harry's feet. His eyes flicker from the crowd to his feet in point four seconds. He then bends over grabbing MY journal. He reads the his name on the front and smiles. His eyes scan the crowd, "Who threw this?" He mouths.
"Right here!" Isabella yells having the surrounding people, turn around and look at us. I hang my head low in embarrassment, avoiding eye contact. I felt like I was going to throw up. My mind races on everything I put in that journal, making me breath heavily.
"You guys were great, we love you, Seattle!" Niall yells in his adorable Irish accent before he disappears off stage. Harry turns one last time, meeting eyes with me, giving me intense chills. I then see Harry disappear into the darkness, with my floral journal in his hand.
