Rivals - L.S.

Twelve - Game Day Antics

It was officially the day of Harry's first professional baseball game. They were playing a team who Louis claimed as nothing to be worried about. Apparently, their opponent's record was one of the worst in the league and their only power-hitter was out for a torn shoulder. It was supposedly going to be a breeze.

But that didn't make Harry feel better.

He was convinced that he hadn't felt this nervous since the day he auditioned for X-Factor. This was going to be the first time that anyone besides his teammates would see him play as a real athlete. Sure, Harry was no stranger to a crowd and that wasn't really what he was so worried about. He was worried that he wouldn't be able to prove that he can do this, to not only the media and the coaches and the other team, but to himself.

Harry was warming up, alternating between practicing his swing and playing catch with Luke. Harry really wished he had time to talk to Louis. He needed a little bit of encouragement right about now and he felt like it would mean the most coming from his sort-of-boyfriend. But, Cowell and their pitching assistants instantly swooped Louis away when they got to the stadium, so Harry was shit out of luck.

A few anxiety filled minutes passed and Harry was called into a huddle, along with the rest of the team. They filed into the dugout, Cowell giving them a big pep talk about winning and effort and showing no mercy to the 'unlucky bastards' they were about to face. All of the guys seemed fired up, like Cowell's pep talk had done it's job, and they were ready to begin.

Harry was in the dugout, waiting for it to be his turn at bat. He was bouncing on his toes nervously. Louis was watching him from his new position leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a small smirk. "Easy there, Twinkle Toes. Save some of that energy for the game," Louis said teasingly.

Harry shot him a dirty look. "Don't call me Twinkle Toes, butt head. I'm really nervous and kind of on the verge of a meltdown if you hadn't noticed," he said matter-of-factly.

"Haz, you have nothing to be worried about. At your first practice, you hit a crazy home run. I would know, I threw the pitch. And think about it, my fast balls no doubt clear 90, this guy can barely pitch 75. He's got nothing on you. Just take a deep breath, keep your eye on the ball and swing away," Louis said reassuringly, eyes kind as he rested a soft hand on Harry's arm.

Harry felt himself relax under Louis' touch. "Thank you," he said quietly, giving the older boy a soft smile.

Louis winked, a happy smile on his pretty face as he said, "Anytime. Now, Liam's up and you're on deck. Go get 'em, love."

Harry wished he had time to sit and swoon over Louis' little nickname, but he didn't because he was supposed to be heading out for his first professional at bat. He mouthed a short lived, "Thank you!" and grabbed his bat, turning and trotting out of the dugout. He barely even got a warm up, Liam had hit the first pitch thrown and stomped onto second base which meant it was Harry's turn.

A loud announcer's voice echoed through the stadium, calling out his name as Harry's photo flashed up onto the jumbo-tron screen for the whole crowd to see. The crowd erupted into cheers, the happy screams and yells overpowering the boos. It was weird for Harry, definitely different than being on stage, he liked it but was intimidated at the same time.

Harry slowly stepped up to the plate, eyes scanning his surroundings before settling on the pitcher. It was as if the man had just completely relaxed, he wasn't even trying to hide it either. Harry furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he was missing something. But then, the catcher's mumble of, "Pfft, easy out for the popstar," made it all clear to Harry.