Timeless [ A Harry Styles OU ] {1/2}

three

This chapter contains mature content. Please read with discretion!

"How did the final mic check go?" Rhea asks, flipping through some pages in a clipboard she's just been handed.

"Good. Everything's sorted," the sound engineer confirms.

Rhea smiles up at him and hands him back the clipboard, "Okay, great Alex. Let's get MUNA on stage then."

Alex nods and begins speaking urgently into his headset as he starts to walk away. Rhea smiles after him and pulls out her work phone from her back pocket, checking it as she walks down the hallway. Backstage is always a buzz, people running around to make sure things run smoothly and energy levels on the high. There's not been a single time in all her career where she hasn't felt that rush- the one that starts in her toes and runs up her veins and straight to her heart. It comes from the knowledge that in a few minutes there will be a roaring crowd and a musician with the eagerness to please them on stage. She'll never get tired of seeing Harry go out there with his heart on his sleeve, guitar in arm, and stage antics in his pocket.

Rhea taps her nails along the material of her phone case, eyebrows scrunching together as she skims through an email.

That's when the dressing room door flies open and Lou Teasdale is standing in the doorway, immediately recognizable in her ripped jeans, band shirt, and bleached waves. Rhea tucks her phone into the pocket of her own ripped jeans just as Lou reaches out the door and latches onto her arm, dragging her inside Harry's dressing room.

"I've not had a proper talk with you all week, love," Lou says, leading Rhea over to the chair that's set up in front of the well lit mirror of the wardrobe table. It's one of those that has bulbs spaced out around the frame, like from the movies. Rhea glances around the room as she plops into what's presumably Harry's chair. The obscene array of hair products used in Harry's chestnut locks are settled across the counter in front of her. Rhea finds it hard to believe his hair is still so soft after using them all, but it's true. A few of his rings are scattered along to the side of the counter and there's a rack of clothing to the left of the chair, his suit for tonight in a garment bag and ready to be shown off.

Lou pulls up her own chair from the side of the room and settles into it, smiling at Rhea, "You're about as hard to track down as bossman is himself."

Rhea laughs, leaning back in the chair, "I guess so. You know me, Lou. Just want to make sure everything runs well."

"Mmm," Lou says, her pink lips pressing together in agreement. "I remember when you'd sit in here with me and keep the boys from goofing off too much while I did their hair. Wee little thing you were. So quiet."

Rhea (fondly) recalls those days, where she sat next to the boys after everything else had been handled and they needed to be distracted while Lou fussed with their hair. "That was forever ago, Lou."