The "Biggest" Fan (EN)

34.

I stared through the tinted window as Richard drove me to a place I had zero energy to be. Matt was going to say the same thing he'd been repeating all week, and honestly, I didn't care. I was tired, emotional, and fully over it.

Then it happened — a painfully familiar melody blared through the speakers. Harry's voice. Oh, hell no. I snapped off the radio before it could get any worse.

Richard glanced at me, eyebrows raised. I ignored him, sinking back into my spiraling thoughts.

"Wait, Richard..." I said suddenly as he took another turn, edging closer to Matt's office.

He gave me a look — half confused, half exasperated, "Matt is waiting for you, you know," he said in a fatherly tone. He continued to drive, though it was clear we were taking the wrong turn.

"Can you drive me... To the park?"

He sighed, long and heavy, like it could blow the car over, "If you're just going to sit there and torture yourself..."

"Just drive, Richard," I snapped, slumping back in my seat. My tone left no room for argument.

I clenched my hands nervously the whole ride, trying to keep my breathing steady. But as soon as we arrived, any effort to stay calm vanished.

I didn't need to search for them — I saw them instantly. A group of paparazzi, clearly tipped off, pretending to be there by coincidence. Cameras flashed, voices shouted, and somewhere in the middle of the chaos were them. Harry and Lottie.

Richard parked at a distance, already familiar with the drill. I stayed in the car, of course. Not like I was going to storm out and wave to the press. No, I stayed firmly behind the tinted glass, safe in my misery.

There they were, strolling through the park like a couple straight off a rom-com poster. Harry laughed at something Lottie said, his head thrown back in that effortless way of his. And then — he reached for her hand.

Oh, come on. 

I felt my stomach twist. The Golden Couple, social media's latest obsession, was out in full force. Fantastic. Exactly what I needed to see.

The rational part of my brain — the tiny, quiet corner not screaming in despair — knew it was fake. A stunt. A ploy to squash the rumors about Harry and me. But logic didn't stand a chance against the sight of my Harry holding someone else's hand.

I still wasn't sure if this was Lottie's way of punishing me or if she actually wanted to help despite her anger. What I was sure of was the jealousy and rage boiling inside me, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it.

"Are you seriously going to sit here all day?" Richard asked, snapping me out of it.

"Yes," I said flatly, my eyes still glued to Harry and Lottie.

"You know, you could just talk to him," he suggested.

I snorted, "Oh, sure. I'll just walk over and say, 'Hey, Harry, loving the hand-holding. Mind if I cut in?'"

Richard didn't respond, which was for the best. I wasn't in the mood for logic or reason. I wanted to be petty and jealous and miserable — and I was doing an excellent job of it.

Then my phone buzzed. Matt. Of course. The universe wasn't done with me yet.

"I'm not in the mood to talk to him," I muttered, though my finger hovered over the answer button.

"Fine. Then don't," Richard said pointedly, surprising me with his tone. He knew I'd answer; he was just mocking me.

I sighed, picking up anyway, my sarcasm dripping, "Hello, you've reached Louis. Leave a message after the beep."