Fade {Harry Styles}

chapter 8

Marcel readied in a buoyant bustle. His stomach churned and twisted around the nerves that fluttered feverishly from their nest in his abdomen. He always got that feeling when he didn't know if he should dread the even or await it rapturously. He honestly wasn't sure if he should be terrified out of his wits or not. 

What was he dreading? Not even he could quite contemplate a response if he was asked that exact question. Kelsey's favor, more of less, was the reason of his mindful confusion. Yet the event she asked him to attend with her was one of great questioning. 

Liam had only stayed a few hours after his eventful arrival. He had made the hideous point that someone would notice him missing which could cause him great trouble. Marcel had told him about Kelsey's misunderstanding with their relationship which had drawled a whole-hearted laugh from Liam. He had said something about how it wasn't the first time someone had said something along those lines, but by far the funniest. Marcel had noticed how Liam's eyes sparked with underlying questioning when Marcel had mentioned Kelsey, yet he was courteous enough not to pester any questions out of the lad. They had had a good laugh like old times, shared a couple of stories, answered a load of questions and just talked. Marcel never dreamed it feel so good to see one of the lads again.Their continuous presence in his life had stalled for such a period of time that it was a relief when at least one appeared again. In all honesty, Marcel just really missed his bandmates.

And just like that, Liam had left again. 

Sometimes it seemed as if Marcel had imagined those few short hours with Liam. They had gone by so fast that he could have blinked and missed it all. But it had been real. Real, great, and very much needed.

Marcel twisted the cuffs of his dress shirt just after he finished fixing the buttons. The simple black coloration of his tie stuck out against his torso which displayed a plain white dress shirt. A pair of dress pants fell from his hips to cover the long region of his lengthy legs. He had lousily combed his sleeked hair back as usual, but there was something about the carelessness of the action that made his usually sharp and distinct aura less strict. The usually gelled strands were tousled against his scalp -- they still weren't the chocolate curls however. And of course, his glasses were positioned on the bridge of his nose. The black frames somehow made his cheekbones more defined. Shadows decorated his face, sliding elegantly down his jawline, making the angles of his face look leaner and sharper. 

His choice of attire made him look more sophisticated than what had become his usual -- the awful wool sweaters and such. 

The only pigment of color other than black and white in all of Marcel's appearance was the striking clarity of his emerald eyes and the pink fullness of his naturally pouted lips. He licked the chapped skin of his lips nervously. 

Since when had Harry Styles ever been nervous? He had faced thousands of screaming people nightly with a pinched smile and skyrocketing confidence. He trudged through interviews with the most personal questions, survived the prods of personal life and even took on the life of another man -- Marcel. He shouldn't be nervous? Not for something like this, most definitely. 

Marcel shook himself as if he could rid himself of the jittery nerves that shocked through his body, and it seemed to almost work. He ran his digits through his gelled hair one last time before grabbing his jacket and slipping out his door.

The next thing he knew he found himself at Kelsey's and was subconsciously raising his hand to knock. The light tap his bony knuckles raping against the door interrupted the ringing in Marcel's ears. The constant blare of voices booming on large, amplified speakers left it a miracle he was not officially deaf. Not to mention the screams so loud the sound waves vibrated in his chest and made it feel as if his heart was about to burst right out of his body.