Eight | W2S

SEVEN.

I've linked Your Song by Elton John for this chapter — it definitely inspired it & I'm hoping you'll maybe listen to it whilst reading!

THREE WEEKS LATER

"Why the fuck do you have so much stuff. You're only going for ten days," Harry grumbled, loading my suitcases into the back of his car.

I was still cashing in my 'you injured and crippled me for several weeks' victim card, and him driving me to the airport for my long haul flight to Tokyo was the latest favour I'd cashed in.

In my defence, Harry had offered. Well — sort of. He'd asked me if I had a plan of how I was getting to the airport, and when I'd said no, the conversation swiftly turned into me asking him, and he easily said yes.

"Because the weather over there is unpredictable. I have to prepare for all kinds of weather. Not all of us wear trackies or shorts paired with a jumper every day. Just saying," I add on quickly, after noticing the expression on his face.

"You're eight hours ahead?" He asks, closing the boot.

I nod my head. "Jet lag is going to kill me off. You will not be hearing from me the first day or two," I joke, walking round to the passenger side and climbing in.

"Nah, you can't stay off your phone. The group chat will be getting selfies from you every hour, I'm counting on it," he says, and it's annoying because I know it's right.

"Shut the fuck up! You don't need to call me out on my bullshit," I bite back, twisting the dial for the music up. The radio was already playing, and it was an old Elton John song I hadn't heard in a while.

"Yeah, but —" he starts, but I only turn the volume up more, tuning him out and instead singing over him.

"I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind!" I sing; the words flowing back to me easily.

I'm not sure why I'm surprised when Harry starts to sing along too. Of course he knows the song, he loves older songs like this.

"And you can tell everybody, this is the song! It be quite simple, but now that it's done...I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words, how wonderful life is, now you're in the world!"

The music fades out slowly, the radio presenter coming back on now, so I turn the music down as we drive out of London.

"I forgot that song existed," I admit, looking out of the window.

"Me too. I also forgot how much I fucking love it," Harry agrees, one hand on the steering wheel with the other resting on the side of the window.

"What made you choose Tokyo?" Harry asks suddenly, breaking the momentary silence after a previously loud car.

I stay silent for a little while. "It was mum's favourite place. She always wanted to take me there, before she died," I explain.

My mum died when I was sixteen. Quite literally just before the Sidemen were created. All the boys knew about it, I'd talked about it on my channel too. It wasn't a meticulously kept secret at all.

It was just me and my dad, now, although he still lived in Somerset in our childhood home. We talked every week, but I definitely owed him a visit soon.

Harry nods his head, but doesn't say anything for a moment. I'm a little bit freaked out that I've made it awkward, because it's a situation where a lot of people don't know what to say next.

But he does. "I'm sure you'll have a great time there, then. For Helen," he says, and although I'll tell anyone and everyone that I'd come to terms with her death, hearing her name humanised it that little bit more, and it was a sucker punch to the gut.