Chapter 15

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Harry's P.O.V

My mind was elsewhere as I distantly took part in the conversation concerning the concert tonight. It's not like I needed to pay attention anyways. I already knew the drill. I had to be here by six, go to my dressing room, get ready, wait at the wings, perform, then go back to the hotel. Nothing too difficult to remember, really.

"So, as soon as you arrive you-"

Simon was cut short however, due to Gemma and Ariana bursting through the arena doors, stumbling onto each other. I noticed as they stood up that Gemma was wearing a pair of my jeans. The material clung tightly to her legs but was a bit bunchy around her ankles despite the fact that she'd rolled them up. I was surprised to see Ariana's hair disheveled. It was usually perfectly in place.

"And where have you two been?" Simon's voice was hard, along with his facial expression.

A light, barely visible blush spread over Ariana's cheeks as she seemed to be at loss for words, opening and closing her mouth.

"We- um we overslept." She mumbled timidly.

Simon's serious expression never faltered as he continued to look at them with a glare.

"Make sure it doesn't happen again. Take a seat girls." His voice firm.

They did as they were told, speed-walking to the opposite couches.

Simon cleared his voice and continued to explain the concert process in detail.

Nobody seemed to really be paying attention, since it's not very different from all of the other concerts.

After what seemed like hours on end, the pre-concert meeting was over, and we were told to continue our preparations, final vocal checks, and warm ups for tonight's concert. Ariana and Gemma went back to their hotel room to get ready.

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Time flew, and before I knew it, it was already time to perform. Ariana was already onstage finishing up her opening act (which was flawless as always) and the boys and I were doing last minute vocal preparations.

A few minutes later, she got off stage, already wrestling the heels off of her feet. The boys and I looked at her, awestruck.

She simply looked up and us and said, "What? A girl's feet gotta breathe every once in a while."

She plopped down on one of the back stage couches and wished us good luck.

I looked down at her feet resting on the head of the couch and saw a heart tattooed on her toe. The image surprised me. I would have never thought she'd get a tattoo. I couldn't help but wonder if she had any more in hidden places; secret tattoos.

Her eyes met mine and she wiggled her toes at me playfully, smirking goofily.

As I smiled at her, Liam tugged me onstage and I snapped back to reality. Reality was an amazing, enormous audience. Screaming fans, creative posters held up, and bright gleaming lights winking at us.

"Hello everybody!" Zayn greeted. The fans shouted back in response.

The first song that we sang was Little Things. Throughout the song, I occasionally glanced towards the wings and saw Ariana smiling at us with light in her eyes, barefoot, and heels in her hands. I knew I was singing to her. For the second time in the night, our eyes met, and I wondered if she knew it too.

"And I've just let these little things slip out of my mouth

'Cause it's you,

Oh, it's you,

It's you they add up to

And I'm in love with you

And all these little things"

I couldn't hear it over the loud cheering and screaming of fans, but I could just make out the small intake of breath, her eyes were glassy, but not because of tears, but because of mesmerization. Perhaps, recognition. It was about her. It was all about her. About Ariana with her small feet, but big smile. Small hands, but big, shining brown eyes. Small frame, but a big heart.

I almost called her over to the stage to sing to her, to hold her. For a minute, I imagined just how she would do it. Her eyes would widen, she would stumble onto the stage in surprise, then remember that she was in fact, barefoot, and shove her feet into her heels clumsily and in the most non-graceful way ever, and then remember that thousands of eyes were watching her awkward actions, and then mutter 'oh shit' because she curses like a sailor, then slap her hands over her mouth, realizing she cursed on stage, and then laugh at her self. The thought had me unknowingly chuckling on stage, and once I noticed that I probably looked mental, I apologized and contained myself. Even though I would have loved to call her up, I knew that I couldn't, because she already had a boyfriend, and she loved him, not me, and that things aren't like how they used to be. Because of me fucking up. And just like that, I went from struggling to contain my smiles, to struggling not to scream in frustration onstage.

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Hi guys!

I'm so sorry for such a long wait! I've had a huge case of writer's block. I couldn't think of anything to write for a while and it was incredibly irritating. I'm back now! Sorry for this short update, but I did what I could. I hope you enjoyed it! Read/like/comment. If you enjoyed it, please, please, please comment, or comment if you have any tips and/or recommendations. And also, please don't forget to check out my other stories (mainly Revenge)!

Much love 💋

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