Harry Styles Imagines Book 2

The edge of tonight

Tonight is really important.

Harry has a mandatory meeting that addresses his next leading role in an upcoming action film. This is his biggest acting opportunity since his role in Dunkirk—his career only seeming to get better with each audition and he couldn’t wait to discuss the next character he has to take on.

Everyone is there—between his managers, the directors, and all the other actors involved in the making, tonight is a really big deal. Harry hasn’t been this excited since his last movie, and to be honest, he never thought he’d end up being a part of something like this again.

He’s amazed at it all, really. There’s a certain type of hustle he’s already found himself getting comfortable with, despite his overwhelming introverted-ness. The cast and crew—everybody, really—is really welcoming, and to know that this will be his life for the next year gets him even more excited.

At the main table—where everybody talks individually to get a proper grasp on the characters—he makes rounds with as many people he can; asking questions and getting all the clarification he needs in regards to the film. And even though everything he’s doing is work related, there really isn’t anywhere he’d rather be at the moment.

He’s two hours in—half of his questions still unanswered and the director has yet to discuss the majority of the making. They’re walking to take their seats for the mass presentation—where they go over their film location, get their scripts, all the nitty gritty that comes with being an actor—when Harry’s phone starts to ring.

Normally, considering the situation that he’s in, he’d ignore the call and wait until his meeting was over to get in contact with whomever was in need to reach him. But as he stares down at the unknown number on his screen, something doesn’t feel right. His stomach tightens and he doesn’t necessarily know why. It’s just a goddamn phone call made at the wrong time.

And he really wants to ignore it—really should ignore it—but he can’t dismiss the mysterious feeling inside of him as it vibrates, for now the second time in his hand.

He sighs, looking around for somewhere much more private. He quickly walks away from where the crowd his heading, finding a secluded section near the bathrooms while he makes sure to answer the call.

He barely has any time to say anything before he hears her.

“Harry, please don’t hate me.”

Y/n’s voice sure as hell was the last thing he expected to hear on the other line as it evidently speaks through tears and worry. To hear her in that way makes his heart drop to the pit of his stomach and his palms sweat against the phone, the thought of the unfamiliar number somehow slipping from his mind as it’s now raided by concern.

He thinks of the worst possible scenario she could be in for her to be calling in such a state. Despite her saying “please don’t hate me” hints at the fact whatever position she is was her fault, he can’t help but to panic at the mere thought that she’s in danger and he’s not close enough to save her in time.

“Darling, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

Y/n wishes he didn’t sound so concerned for her because when it comes down to it, she doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt Harry always gives her. Everything that’s happened, the whole reason why she’s here, is because of something she had done. It was necessarily her fault, but it was her stupid decision that brought her into this mess, and she doesn’t want to take advantage of his heart.

Especially not now, not during one of the most important nights of his career. She can’t take advantage of what he always gives her because he’d never forgive her, no matter how much she really truly needs him right now.