~*~ Harry ~*~
It’s been two weeks since New Year’s Day, signaling the beginning of the university term for Harry and Niall. They had returned to their rooms after having spent more time in those two weeks at Louis and Zayn’s flat than at their own dorm rooms.
Harry is beyond excited with his new courses. So far, he thoroughly loves his vocal control class, with piano and music composition as close contenders. Earlier in the week, he had signed up for choir tryouts, and today was the day. He isn’t sure if he’s more nervous than excited or if it’s the other way around. Too afraid of failing, he hasn’t told Louis about the tryouts, choosing instead to keep it to himself. He can’t bear the idea of seeing Louis’ disappointment if he bombs the audition.
Harry stops by his room to drop off his bag and change his shirt. Niall pops in as he is buttoning up the last button. “Hey, Harry! Are we going to your boy’s place tonight?”
“Yeah. I’ll be done in a few hours, and we can head over,” Harry informs him, tucking his shirt into his jeans.
Niall gives him a cursory once over. “Where are you going now? I’ll go with you. I’m free for the rest of the day.”
Harry hedges, but finally blurts, unable to keep it to himself any longer, “Choir tryouts.”
“That’s fucking awesome, mate!” Niall exclaims, his encouraging smile lighting the room. “I should try out with you. It could be fun.”
Harry nods in agreement. Having Niall with him in choir would definitely be a good time. He hadn’t really thought Niall would be interested, or he would have suggested it himself. “I think they might have a few more openings for tryout times. You can ask when we get there, but you have to wear a black shirt and pants,” Harry giggles and waves his hand in a circular motion, palm out, to encompass Niall’s current clothing statement of acid washed jeans and a tie-dyed shirt in neon colors paired with pink, green, and purple high top basketball shoes. “Not all of whatever you call that.”
Niall sends him a cheesy grin. “I’ll be right back,” he says as he ducks out of Harry’s room and into his own. He’s only gone a couple of minutes before he returns wearing a black fitted shirt with black jeans. “I figured jeans would be alright since that’s what you’re wearing.” Recognizing Harry's shirt, he comments, “Look at us, both wearing Gucci. May others bow down in our presence.”
Harry rolls his eyes. “No one will even know.”
Niall slings his arm over Harry’s shoulder as they leave the room. “Let me dream, Harry. Let me dream.”
When they arrive, Niall is able to get a spot two places after Harry. After they have solo tryouts, they will have groups. From what Harry understands, they are put into random groups of three or four with varying ranges to see how well they can work together with harmonies.
Harry’s nerves are about to get the best of him when his number is called. Taking a deep breath, he walks up the steps and stands center stage in front of the mic, the bright lights blinding him. You’d think this was drama class with all of the hoopla, but the choir practices and performs here, too. Something about learning the acoustics and space.
“Hi. I’m Harry Styles,” he greets the director.
“Good afternoon, Harry. Begin when you are ready,” she instructs perfunctorily, same as she has for each singer.
