Harold

five

For my 21st birthday, Harry surprised me with tickets to a Doctor Burger concert. They were my favorite local band and it was the best birthday gift I'd ever received. Not only did I get to see them perform and meet the lead singer, I was allowed to get drunk off my ass legally.

Harry seemed to be having a great time until the moment I was standing in front of Connor- the guitarist and lead singer. I guess you could say he didn't appreciate waiting in the car while Connor and I had some fun in his dressing room. I didn't find anything wrong with it considering making out with a member from Doctor Burger was on my bucket list. Harry was pissed.

Times were already going downhill, it was only a few weeks after that happened when I got up and moved for my internship and left Harry behind. At the time, I guess I just didn't care. I was a bitch.

"Ready?" Harry asks as I walk out, locking the door behind me.

"Mhmm," I smile, stepping into the car as he opened the door for me.

I put my seatbelt on quickly and cross my legs, preventing them from shaking. I've been looking forward to this day for a month.

We begin driving with the windows down, no music playing in the background. Harry seems to be in a good mood again as he hums to himself. It isn't a beat I know, he just hums.

"Excited?"

"You look good tonight," he looks at me, completely disregarding my question. I blush and let out a soft thank you as he looks back to the street in front of him.

In high school, Harry complimented me all the time. Scratch that; Harry complimented me since I can ever remember. But not once did I blush. Not once did it affect me. Not once did I say thank you. I rolled my eyes.

I like this new confidence he holds. Last time I saw him he could barely look at me. And when he did, it was a plea. He knew those puppy dog eyes could get me to do almost anything.

He's smiling too—a genuine smile that he wants to wear. I haven't seen that since we were fifteen.

We arrive shortly after his compliment and hop out of the car. I try to remain oblivious from all of the stares he is receiving from the women surrounding us. They range from thirteen all the way to their late forties; teens, moms, anyone with eyes.

When Harry wraps his arm around my shoulder, I relax, forgetting about the stares.

He bends down, touching his lips to my ear as we reach our destination to the first stage, "I've never seen you so jealous."

I swat him away, glaring at him just as I did to the girls eyeing him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Mhmm," he hums softly, chuckling against my cool skin, "well, I'm definitely jealous. The guys around here are shit heads. Fucking disgusting, really. Staring at my girl like they'll get a piece of her."

My jaw drops, a small smile fighting my lips for more than one reason. 1) Harry was jealous 2) Harry held me close, claiming me as his own 3) he admitted it easily and 4) he referred to me as his girl.

"Well, we better keep each other close then."

>>>>

We go from stage to stage, dancing and mumbling the words we didn't know. Harry plays air guitar and I drum on the air drums. We jump and spin in circles and try our best not to trip over our feet. I laugh like I haven't laughed in ages and we aren't even drunk. We are 100 percent sober.

Luckily, everyone around us was doing the same (except with alcohol running through their veins).

We decide to stop at one last stage, a solo artist I recognize from CRUSH studio, Joseph Hampshire. He's been trying to get signed and even though I completely believe in him, Calvin just isn't feeling it.