Do You Remember Summer '09? || l.s.

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(a/n) Hiii thanks for reading

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August 2009

Loud music and voices filled the air.

Harry shook out his nerves as he waited to be called out on stage. His bandmates were next to him, nervously chattering, but he couldn't focus on what they were saying.

The smell of hairspray, sweat, and excitement filled the backstage area. Lights from the stage flickered over the crowd as bands were called up, one after another. White Eskimo, his band, consisted of Harry's friends from Holmes Chapel Comprehensive. Harry was the lead vocalist, Will Sweeny played drums, Nick Clough played bass, and Haydn Morris played guitar.

Harry had always wanted to become a singer but never thought he was good enough. He remembered belting out songs in his bedroom as a child, his mother catching him once with tears in her eyes, telling him he was a natural. Her smile that day had been so proud, something he'd held onto for years. That moment felt so distant now. The voice in his head had whispered that he couldn't sing. Yet, his mom convinced him to form a band with some friends. He had done it to make her happy, but one night, she came into his room and told him she had signed them up for Battle of the Bands. And now, here he was, about to go on stage.

Harry took in the crowd from behind the curtain, seeing a sea of people, all buzzing with excitement. Looking around at all of the people backstage, his heart raced. His eyes settled on the most beautiful boy in the line behind him.

The boy playfully nudged his bandmate, his laughter lighting up the room, making it impossible for Harry to look away. He was effortlessly charming, that perfect laugh coming out like it was nothing. Their eyes locked, and he saw the most breathtaking shade of blue. After a few seconds of their silent exchange, he looked down and quickly turned back towards the stage.

Harry felt the boy's eyes on him. He knew that if he turned around, he would see those blue eyes still fixed on him. A sense of confidence washed over him, knowing the boy was watching.

The next thing he knew, his band was being called to the stage to perform. He quickly stole one last look back at the boy, who, as expected, was already staring at him. Harry felt his cheeks flush and his pulse quicken as Will grabbed his arm and pulled him on stage.

When he saw the number of people sitting in the audience cheering for him, his stomach churned. It was a rush and a terror he hadn't prepared for.

As he approached the microphone, the spotlight blinded him. He shakily said, "Hello everyone! We are White Eskimo." His voice quivered, but he managed to keep his composure. He took a deep breath as his band began to play "Valerie" by Amy Winehouse. Clearing his throat, he started singing. All of Harry's nerves disappeared, and he got lost in the music.

He heard the audience start cheering loudly as the music faded out. Harry couldn't believe that a room full of people was actually cheering for him. With a huge smile on his face, he thanked the crowd and exited the stage.

The audience was already cheering for the next band. Adrenaline rushed through Harry; he started walking backstage and saw the boy looking at him. Harry strolls past, and the boy turns to his bandmates, laughing and loudly saying, "They let anyone on stage at these things." The words sliced through Harry's euphoria like a knife. They all start laughing as they all look at Harry. He locked eyes with the boy.

Harry immediately felt his eyes sting and began running away. He could feel the boy's eyes on him as he ran into the bathroom.

Staring into the bathroom mirror, Harry started crying. The boy's words echoed in his mind, shattering his confidence and heart. He looked down at his trembling hands, wondering how such a simple comment had deeply cut him. Why did he think he could ever compete in this competition? He wished he could disappear.

When he finally stops crying and emerges from the bathroom, he hears the crowd going wild for the people on stage. He looks over and realizes it is the boy.

He found a dim corner backstage where he could see but not be seen, curling up on a folding chair while waiting for the winners to be announced.

When Harry's band was announced to come on stage as the third-place winner, he felt a flicker of happiness. He stepped back on stage with his band, and the crowd started cheering. They took their place and waited for the other winners to be announced.

Second place went to a band that Harry had seen perform earlier. A tall, lean guy with black hair, sharp cheekbones, and intense eyes led them. He looked like he just stepped out of a magazine cover.

The announcer gets the crowd to start a drumroll before he announces the first-place winner was a band called "The Rogue"

Harry looked over to see the boy running on the stage with a huge smile. He jumped in his bandmate's arms, grabbed the trophy, turned to the audience, and gave an overdramatic bow. The audience was going wild. The boy grabbed the mic. "Thank you. We are The Rogue, and I am Louis Tomlinson," he announced. The crowd went wild.

Harry tries to hide his emotions as they all walk off stage. He felt bittersweet. At least they got third, but the blue-eyed boy's comment repeated repeatedly in his mind.

"They let anyone on the stage at these things."

When Harry finally got home, he curled up in bed, the weight of the night pressing down on him. He cried himself to sleep while wondering how someone with such a warm smile could be so cold.