offshore | h.s

45

HARRY STYLES

Walking into my management's office on this sunny morning in LA, I'm hit with a sense of déjà vu. I got here yesterday, but there's a deliberate avoidance of the place I call home in LA — or, more accurately, the house I own here. 

That house is a reminder of a burdensome time, holding memories both good and bad. I first moved into it right after Gen and I broke up, and It carries the weight of struggles and battles fought within its walls. Returning feels like revisiting a recent battlefield, and while progress has been made, healing is still underway. The scars are healing, but the wounds are still tender.

I want my presence here to be on the down low, so I'm staying in an Airbnb close to my management's office, just to keep things simple. 

Today's a jam-packed schedule — hashing out changes to the upcoming tour, nailing down my calendar for the year, and scouting potential homes for our family to move into. 

The door swings open, and a gust of anticipation fills the room as I step into the meeting space. Jeff, and a few others, immersed in the digital glow of open laptops, look up. He greets me with a warm smile. "Harry! Have a seat."

I settle into the chair at the head of the table, a familiar space that has witnessed countless strategic discussions and creative brainstorming sessions. Jeff lets out a sigh before saying "Let's start with the tour,". 

I nod, fully focused on the imminent discussion. The tour is both a love and a responsibility, a fact that's become increasingly clear with recent personal developments.

"We've finalized two dates you can do," Jeff begins, and I feel a surge of nerves. The choice between the tour's fervour and the steadiness of family is a tightrope walk. I enjoy the road, the connection with fans, but family will always come first. Gen, pregnant with our twins, adds a layer of complexity to the decisions at hand. Her due date aligns uncomfortably close to the original tour kick-off, which is in early September. 

Jeff outlines the options. "You can start in March and end in July, or keep the original dates." 

Jeff lays out the logistics, the domino effect of changes if I choose the March start. Rehearsals intensify, a different opener takes the stage, and the arenas themselves shuffle to accommodate the new dates. It's a cascade of adjustments, each one impacting the symphony of the tour.

I sit there, considering the ramifications, my mind straddling the present and the future. 

It'll end in July. Gen will still have a few months left of her pregnancy. 

That's the compass guiding this decision. A resolute nod, and I utter, "Let's go with the first one."

The room exhales in a collective motion of approval. Fingers dance over keyboards as calendars and schedules synchronize to this shift in tempo. Amidst the practicalities, a reminder surfaces — outfits need fitting, and a meeting with Harry Lambert awaits, an orchestrator of style in the grand performance.

The meeting dives deeper into the intricacies of the upcoming tour, mapping out each beat and transition. An hour of discussions passes in the rhythm of a logistical symphony until Jeff steers the conversation toward a more expansive horizon — the album.

Jeff's direct gaze meets mine, and he poses the question that hangs in the air like a melody waiting to be composed, "Have you been writing?"

I nod, "Yes, I've got about 8 songs so far. Still drafts, but I'm working on it."

Jeff, in his usual succinct manner, types away. "We need you to start recording next month, so we'll need you moved out here in a few weeks. Do you think you can do that?"