Call Me a Thief (Harry Styles)

3. Breakeven

*Rather short, but hey, what can ya do? I'm trying to keep Harry and Beth's POVs separated for a while to get the hang of things. PLEASE let me know what you think about Harry's general attitude. I know he's the most 'flirty' of all the boys, but I felt like even fictional Harry has a limit. You'll catch my drift once you read on. Regardless, are his limits good? bad? too much? I need to know these things~!

Enjoy! xx

~Rhonda

Ps- The title of this chapter is based on the song, to the side there ---->

Chapter 3- Breakeven

Harry-

            The lights dimmed, leaving the spotlight, which was trained on Liam, as the only thing keeping the crowd cheering. And boy, were they cheering. Take Me Home was coming out soon, and the Up All Night tour had been an absolute blast for the five of us. This being one of our later concerts, the feel of the stage and the scene of the fans could never feel more repetitive. I loved it all the same, though. I could still see the thrill on Liam’s face as he sang. “Shut the door… turn the light off… I wanna be with you… I wanna feel your love…” He started walking towards the crowd, and the girls on the front row went insane, grabbing at his shoe laces, trying to take any piece of him they could get.

            All these fans, they always want something. Us. They always want to be the ones to brag about attending a concert, getting an autograph, grabbing a lock of hair, being the one to throw the first bra onstage at a performance. It was always their prerogative. I loved it, but I loathed it at the same time. Not every fan would let us have our space. Sometimes, I just needed some space.

            Right now though, the lights were widening, spreading over my head and brightening my skin. As the chorus started, we spread out a bit, hearing the scream of fans in response. Louis and Niall took the far right, I was in the middle, and Zayn and Liam were on my left. Somehow, being in the middle was a lot worse right now. I knew it was silly, how fake I was being at the moment, but what choice did I have? I felt like I was being jammed up against a wall. But I smiled for the cameras and the fans, and for my best mates alongside me. I had to work these things out in the comfort of my own mind, I knew.

            Caroline. Sweet Caroline. Though we’d “officially” broken up at the beginning of the year, we’d stayed in a sort of secret relationship. Until two nights ago, at least. I had to be honest with myself: both of us had a priority right now, and it definitely wasn’t each other. She made that very clear the last time we spoke.

            “Who were you, thinking it would work- me and my modeling career verses you and your band? I’m not saying either is more important, it’s just… I think our age difference…”

            “It’s too much,” I’d finished for her. “I get it. No hard feelings.” We’d hugged, I walked her to the street to catch a cab, and I’d called it a night in my flat. No parties, no friends over. Just me and my old brain to think and muddle over what had happened.