Don't Let Me Go.

Chapter 8.

"I don't think I can make it. Tell Simon I'm ill and that you're taking my spot, hopefully that will work.

Sorry."

I burst out laughing as I send the message to Harry. I warn the rest of the lads and tell them just to go along. Hopefully Liam won't fuck it up. Being a pro at pranks was always an A plus for me and the way Harry was staring at me today, I just had to get him. Easy target you can say. I get up and start getting ready for today. I'm standing in front of the mirror and I let out a long sigh praying that we make it through the judges house.

"Bye Anne, Bye Gem!" I call out before leaving and head towards the vehicle.

My hand grips the wheel hard enough to make my knuckles turn white. I'm too fucking nervous and the emptiness of the boys isn't making me much better. The car pulls to a stop in front of a big arse mansion as I get out, bouncing on one foot. It's not swollen no more but the sting is still there. My head snaps towards the entrance and four familiar faces pops out. Harry has his arms wide open as he runs towards me. His body tightly wraps around me, showing all the emotions he has. I'm off the ground in no time and I am picked up by two strong arms, both supporting my legs. Once the two boys put me back on the ground I'm face to face with Harry.

"With that really necessary?" I entreated.

"Of course it was." His tone is mocking and amusing, my eyes gives him a dramatic roll.

My body is layed out on the long couch and Harry's on the floor. His head is layed back with his eyes closed and arms crossed. His eye brows are pinched together and his lips is curved down. With all the stress going on in Harry's life I bet that frown of his can't never leave. My hands goes through his soft curls and I pull slightly at it, just the way he likes it. I see his lips curve back up and I can't help but smile with him.

"When are we going to be next?" I groan. I'm very impatient and waiting for us to be called up for over an hour is killing me.

"Stop whining." His voice is raspier than ever and I love the sound of it.

"I'm not whinning. It's called asking in case you haven't notice." Harry stands up on his feet and next thing you know his weight is on top of me. His back is layed on my stomach and his elbow is pinching my arm.

"Get off me you fool." I groan as I tried to take the light weight off me, trying to push as hard as I can.

"Now your whining." He gets up and laughs at my annoying action.

"Touché." I sarcastically clap my hands then stop when I realise I look like a retarded seal.

"One Direction?" Liam gets up as if he just felt ants crawl up his pants. The rest of the boys, including me, walk towards the door which will lead to the judges.

"Ready?" Harry lets out a small sigh.

"Ready." I take in a deep breath as I feel Harry's hand give a last squeeze. He lets go and without his presence I don't know how I will survive this tragic. The door swings open and we all take a step foward as we breathe in the earth air.

"Alright Lads. Good luck." Good luck my arse I can just run if I have to but this I can't. It's like a zombie apocalypse, you try to run from the bloody hobos but you can't because you just want to kill them for your sake. Okay that's how you know I watch too much fucking zombie movies, what the fuck is wrong with me. I'm being distracted and that can't happen at this time. Not now.

Simon begins to speak and fills me with questions that I clearly don't give a fuck about but I answer them anyway so I don't make me and this band look like complete shit. After answering the obnoxious game of Curious Simon, we began to sing. Just like rehearsals, Liam does his verse first and I wait for my cue. My mind plays pretend and makes a scene of being in Harry's room, singing as if no one is watching. Harry's solo is next and it brings chills up my spine causing balls of bumps to form and hair to float up. My thoughts flows away as our voices meet up at a perfect harmony. We all try our best and keep it the way it has always been since practices at Harry's. Fine tremors were running through my taunt muscles every time I glance at Simon's face. It's like he's looking through my soul, trying to give me a choke and rip out the last part of me. My hand gives a tight grip on the microphone as I try to comfort myself by saying I will survive this. If Harry was by my side, I wouldn't give a shit about any of this but he isn't and it's fucking torturous to my living body. Finally, the song comes to an end and we all wait for a response. Instead, we basically get kicked out, not in a harsh or nice way.