The "Biggest" Fan (EN)

3.

Time kept ticking, and I was still here. Watching Lottie and Harry chat and laugh from afar wasn't getting any easier. I couldn't figure out what my sister saw in this pop star. And I still had no idea what I was doing here. I even considered pretending to be interested in chatting with my mom, but even she'd disappeared somewhere without me noticing. So where do you go when your friends abandon you at a party? To the drinks.

Lottie finally came back just as it was Harry's turn to go on stage. The fan screaming that erupted instantly gave me a headache.

"Whoa, looking pretty warmed up there," she joked, noticing me nursing yet another drink.

"Just a bit," I grinned. "But you're still driving us back."

"Obviously, I'm driving," she replied, though I couldn't tell if she sounded pleased or annoyed.

I was feeling buzzed from all the bubbles, but at least it made everything seem more tolerable.

On stage, Harry moved like he was completely at home, without a second thought for what anyone might think of him. I finally had a chance to take in his appearance - a black shirt without a single wrinkle, spotless shoes, hair styled with precision. He looked like he'd just stepped off a magazine cover, the ultimate best-selling product. Undeniably vain, but with the best marketing possible.

When he finished his song, the crowd was still roaring. Lottie was cheering, too, looking like a silly fangirl.

"But I'm still annoyed about the way you talked to him," she said once the noise died down a bit. I figured she'd bring this up eventually.

"Oh, come on, I just wanted to make sure the superstar's ego doesn't climb any higher than it already is," I explained.

"Harry's actually really nice. And his sense of humor? It's a gem. Promise me you'll give him a chance and tone down the sarcasm ninja act next time," she sighed.

I frowned. "Hold on, 'next time'? Is there some secret fan meetup I missed?"

"We talked, and it turns out we have a lot in common. So we thought maybe we could try doing something together - play, sing... See what happens."

"Tragic idea. Like 'let's mix peanut butter and pickles' kind of terrible," I shook my head, waving my hands for emphasis.

"He plays guitar, you know. Imagine if we added piano to that..." she continued, daydreaming.

"He plays guitar?" That wasn't something I expected to hear.

"Of course he does?! Haven't you heard his song where he..."

"Do I look like someone who'd waste my precious free time listening to his music? No thanks," I cut her off quickly.

She rolled her eyes as the guests began filtering out. Finally, time to get back to real life.

"But promise me you'll try to be nicer to him."

"Or what?" I gave her a smug look, challenging her.

"Or..." she paused, thinking. "Or I'll tell him some embarrassing story about you. You definitely wouldn't want that, would you?" She looked pleased with herself.

"I don't have any embarrassing stories, Lottie," I shrugged.

"Don't forget, I still have that old recording of you singing 'Single Ladies' in the shower when you were fourteen."

I took a sharp breath. "You wouldn't dare. That's a decade-old humiliation."

"Is that a challenge?"

"All right, all right," I raised my hands in surrender. Maybe it wouldn't be the end of the world if that recording got out, but I wasn't about to push my luck.