Security

Chapter 7

It is content. That is all it is. Their job. Content. YouTube. If they don't provide content that is entertaining enough for the masses, for large categories of people from all walks of life, with different personalities and interests, then the Sidemen wouldn't have such a large, strong fanbase. Therefore, without that, they wouldn't have the comfortable life that they can all afford to live now. (It's a pretty nice life if Harry does say so himself.)

Despite knowing that Simon had no real malicious intent lurking behind his actions throughout the current main channel shoot - particularly on the boat and train - Harry's feelings are not inspirited by his brain's sensical logistics. His heart ignores the potential realities of the situation, feeling scorned by the man he is slowly, wholeheartedly, giving himself over to. He has already given himself over to completely, if he is being totally honest with himself.

Something hideous and aggrieved rears its tumultuous head inside his chest, his throat clogging momentarily as his breathing stutters. His nostrils flare as he stares intensely at Vik, willing himself and his heightened emotions to calm down, to ignore the mistreatment he feels he has been dealt today. He listens with outwardly eager attention to the things Vik is saying, though a part of him feels guilty knowing he is presently the polar opposite to this on the inside.

"Wh-hen is our fu-fucking train going to get, get here," Harry spits the question out, rhetorical as it is, with hushed venom. He turns to look behind him, blinking inanely at the train tracks with a ferocious impatience. He twists in place more, still staying seated in his cross-legged position on the floor of the train platform. His gaze moves from the rusting tracks to behind him on the dull platform. When the action results in accidental eye contact with a member of security, he turns back quickly; he barely resists the bubbling detestation staining him at his core.

There is a sour flavour of distaste in his mouth as Vik, meaning well, forces him to rejoin the conversation once again. He does, but he's not exactly happy about it. The only upside is that focusing on talking offers him a minute moment of reprieve from his thoughts.

It doesn't last all that long.

All the while, Harry stirs in his mounting frustration at Simon and Ethan. His head feels cloudy, his body suffering phantom tingles. He notices his feet going numb from sitting in this same position for too long - he stands abruptly, surprising Vik and borderline frightening Randy. He takes the chance to wander a few steps around the platform, eventually deciding to settle on the bench next to Jamie.

"You alright, Boggo?" Jamie asks him in an off-hand manner, his voice it's usual self-assertive in nature, sounding gentle and kind. Harry shrugs in answer, his thoughts hesitating briefly before he allows his head to softly fall against Jamie's left shoulder, shuffling closer until their upper arms touch. He stays tense, waiting for any potential admonishment, but none comes. His mind doesn't give conscious permission, yet a small smile forms on his face in spite of that.

The entire train ride, Harry allows himself to be distracted. Jamie and Cal play a big role in that, Jamie with his freestyle rapping is especially entertaining, but Vik also has a hand in his amusement, a constant at his side the whole journey. He's also never felt as proud as he does when Randy returns after handing out enough sausages to other passengers. (It's only a slight exaggeration; what a feat.)

Harry's team, for the rest of the day, relish every possible chance they get to try and sabotage the opposing team. Josh is clearly on the other side, considering the way he thwarts some of their attempts, but lets stand the horrifically outrageous ideas that come through from Ethan's team. Making them shit in the same toilet, one after the other...?

Wrongens, the lot of them! Even Tobi - he really went along with it! How on earth did he allow them to make that decision?

Harry texts Simon at some point, near the end of the video shoot. He bitterly types fuck you before erasing it and typing out I can't fucking believe you guys. He hits send only after removing the swear word, equal parts anxious and vexed, believing that not a single response could soothe his hurt. Likely any and all excuses would simply fuel the fire of emotions; would stir the pot of indignation settled deep in Harry's gut.