MOMENTS

The Concert

(Harry’s POV)

I sat in the passenger seat of Emily’s car, her rode rage taking the best of her as she sped down streets of San Francisco. I watched her face curl into a frustrated frown, just another thing that reminded me of my ex. I’d thought I’d forgotten her and moved on, but now that I was watching Emily and the way she acted so much like her, I found myself having doubts.

“Do I have something on my face or something?” Emily asked me, turning her head to look at me, her bright blue eyes narrowing as she furrowed her brows. She ran her hand over her mouth, making the pink lipstick she’d been wearing smear.

I chuckled, reaching my hand out and using my sleeve to wipe it away. She looked down at my sleeve, arching her eyebrow. I shrugged my shoulders, turning back to look at the city. It was a beautiful city, one I’d only been to once before, and back then I’d been confined to a hospital room, and then I was back on the road a day later. 

“It’s a pretty great city, right?” Emily asked. I nodded my head, not looking away from the window as I did so.

“Y’all should go see the bridge if you’re here much longer, it doesn’t have that great of a view, but it’s a tourist thing,” She said, and as I turned my head I saw her shoulders rise and fall in a shrugging motion. 

“Maybe you could show us what is worth seeing, then?” I asked, more hope in my voice than I’d intended. She grinned, looking back at the road without saying a word. 

-------

(Emily’s POV)

I parked my 2005 Ford Focus in the  overly packed parking lot, hopping out of the car I looked over at Harry, his curls being tousled easily by the wind. 

“You’re gonna get recognized faster than I can say swa-” I was cut off by a shrill female voice.

“OH MY GOD IT’S HARRY STYLES!” A preteen girl screamed, and in a swift movement Harry grabbed my hand and we took off running. 

“Well that proved me right,” I said breathlessly, not exactly used to doing heavy workouts. The most strenuous thing I do in my life is walk to starbucks on my way to work in the morning. That is if I ever do go to work, I have a horrible habit of choosing not to go to work - that’s the perks of working at your step mom’s restaurant. She can’t fire you. 

When we finally stopped running, I was greeted by the vision of at least fifteen large men. I looked around me, and then instinctively clung to Harry’s arm tightly. 

“She’s with me,” Harry said, looking down at me, “I’ll have them get you a backstage pass,” He grinned. I smiled, releasing my grip on his arm. 

I was no longer afraid of the twelve large men, in fact, they reminded me of kittens. Not very soft kittens, but kittens none the less. 

“What’s your name, miss?” One of the kittens asked me.

“Emily Noel Westwood,” I said, feeling a hand grab onto mine once more. Looking down I saw Harry’s clutching mine as he smiled for photos, as well as talked to some of the girls that had broken through the men. 

“How old are you?” He inquired. 

“Too young for you,” I said, looking him over. He looked about forty, at the youngest.

I heard a snicker from behind me, and looking back I saw Harry trying to hold back laughter. I glared at him, turning back to the kitten, “eight-er, nineteen. sorry, i turned nineteen today, so...” I trailed off. I felt a my hand jerk in a weird position, and turning around I saw Harry looking at me inquisitively.