Taste (H.S. / A.U.)

Chapter 58

DOUBLE UPDATE: Chapter 57-58

HARRY STYLES

Dear god I am exhausted.

After leaving the venue, much later than anticipated due to the traffic I collapsed into the bed of my hotel room. A starched sheet that smelled like detergent blanketed over me, but I sweated through it in my sleep. Madrid was hot, the room was decorated in too many shades of orange, and my head was spaced out.

Maybe it was because I missed Elle, but the bed felt uncomfortable, sleeping alone was wrong, and it was too long of a day. Sure, I rested in the plane, but it wasn't enough. If given the opportunity, I would sleep for ten hours with no interruptions. Sadly, I do not have the time for that though. Our plane leaves in an hour and I'm climbing in the backseat of a taxi.

The cracked leather is loud while I slide in, clutching the small black bag into the seat next to me. I couldn't thank Mitch enough for helping this idea form, giving me hardly enough time to do it was my own fault though. I woke up thirty minutes late, I forgot to pack last night, and on top of everything the traffic was insane. Last night was bad, but today is worse somehow. 

I love performing, but I know for a fact nearing the end of every tour I complain internally that I am spreading myself too thin. I've done it for so long, solo and with the band, and I never seem to learn. Sometimes when I was with the boys it felt easier to deal with, solely because there was someone who was enduring and understanding what I felt to communicate with about the feelings. 

Humming to myself in the backseat, I worked on something that I had initially started and scrapped. Another song for the album that never made the cut, but lately had started rejuvenating itself to me in different ways. Playing with the lyrics, the melodies, and singing to myself in the shower or sleepy hours on the plane had become a regular occurrence now.

The backseat of the taxi felt like the only place in the world that was still while the windows showed the rush of Madrid's streets outside—the distant hum of cars, the occasional honking, the chatter of pedestrians. faded away. The city's vibrant pulse felt like a distant echo as my mind wandered with the lyrics taking over.

The taxi made a sharp turn, and Harry glanced out the window, catching a glimpse of the airport's glowing lights in the distance. A familiar feeling of anticipation stirred in my chest as the plane could be seen in the distance. I would be lying if I didn't say my favorite part of touring is actually the shared moments I have on the plane or the back of a bus with the band. It seemed like with the chaos of touring, fans, and the spotlight, it was always a brief escape to feel as normal as possible.

Chattering about the weather and other nonsense, the driver finally got me close enough to hop out, grabbing the lone bag I purchased earlier. The band was nice enough to make sure my stuff was brought in with theirs, already loaded onto the plane and saving me another thing to potentially leave behind.

Pauli gives me a wave as I shuffle my way over to them, the humming of the engine being the loudest noise on the tarmac. "You're late mate! We said ten o'clock," Pauli checked his wrist, pushing up the thick cardigan material to not show off a watch despite his pretend to be checking one, "it's ten-oh-five. Getcha' butt on the plane before we leave you behind and become an instrumental act!"

Despite my eye roll, he and I both knew it was funny because none of us would ever survive the spotlight without each other, always relying on the small family we have created to save our mental health on a daily basis.

Inside the plane everything was as it normally is. My eyes casually drift over every seat, I know Elle isn't here today, but still my heart flutters, remembering how soon it will be till I see her. I instead go all the way to the back of the plane, taking a seat across from him. I toss the small bag onto the table and situate myself.