OH OH OOOH OH! SO PUT YOUR HANDS UP!
I laughed delightedly as I threw my hands in the air, jumping up and down as I screamed my lungs out, feeling like just another teenage fangirl - this was so much better than I'd even thought it would be, than I'd ever expected it to be!
The hall was packed from wall to wall with girls of all ages, screaming and bawling and having the time of their lives. I'd never imagined myself standing here, but I was glad I'd gotten a chance to mingle with the type of people who supported Harry and the band. Without them voting the boys into the X Factor final, keeping the band going by coming out to the shows, buying the music...I would never have known of his existence. I would not be getting the mind-blowing, completely thorough fucking every other night of the week which I had grown accustomed to.
This wasn't quite what I had anticipated, however. When Harry had kindly invited me to come to one of the Up All Night shows in London, I had assumed he had meant I would be watching contentedly from the side of the stage like a proper band groupie, maybe even exclusive VIP seating where I'd be served drinks, food, anything I liked at the snap of my fingers...in reality, here I was, out of breath, uncomfortable and squished as the crowd thronged around me, my Original Prada handbag stuffed sloppily under the fold-down chair, with Eleanor Calder screaming equally as loud on my right side, and Danielle Peazer flailing on the other.
"I can't get you exclusive tickets," Harry had apologized earlier as I greeted him in the dressing rooms back stage, "You're talking to the guy who had to buy his own album, for God's sake!"
But I'd quickly gotten over my stroppy 'don't-you-know-who-I-am' moment and settled for a seat in the first balcony, where I now stood, smiling as I watched the five of them owning the stage, Danielle, Eleanor and I laughing childishly at their dancing and how they pretended like they had any sort of swag at all - they liked to think they were cool, but we all knew they looked like a bunch of awkward little ducklings. It didn't matter, though, because they were our ducklings.
I couldn't lie; I did feel a tiny, little smidgen out of place between the two girls. Whilst they chatted about Louis and Liam's little habits, how cute they were as boyfriends, all the perks and disadvantages of dating a band member, I sat silent. It didn't feel right discussing Harry like that...obviously from sleeping over at his so often, I knew all his little habits. I liked the way he hummed in the shower, how he strolled around naked without a care in the world, and little things like the way he always licked his fingers when he'd finished a bag of crisps. I hated it when he woke me up in the middle of the night as he snored. It annoyed me when he didn't put his washing in the laundry basket, leaving boxers and odd socks lying lonely on the floor, and I always nagged him when he left porn lying around - it just wasn't very polite. But I couldn't discuss these little things. I couldn't moan about him affectionately like they did, because he wasn't really mine. I was just renting him out until we both found something better. For us, we were just something to hold at night. Around simply to keep each other warm and bide off the loneliness and despair while we had nobody else in our lives.
This thought worried me, though. Holding onto Harry until I found someone better. The one, niggling question on my mind was; would I ever find someone better than him?
The only conversation I felt at ease in was when the discussion turned to the bedroom. It was brief, and we only hinted - none of us knew each other that well, after all, and we weren't about to start spurting details about how great each boy was beneath the sheets - but at least I felt like I had something to input to the banter. Danielle and Eleanor knew about our arrangement I supposed, and I guessed the boys had told them, so both turned their eyes automatically to me at the arise of such a topic, obviously expecting that me and Harry were dangling from the chandeliers every night, or that somehow our sex life was more adventurous due to the lack of a relationship.
