The family man

Chapter 2

HEY YALL

WHAT YALL THINK

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14 years later... State de France  

The concert was phenomenal. The last show from his year long international concert. Harry makes a final bow in front of one of the largest stadiums in the Europe, blowing kisses to his thousands and thousands of adoring fans that had came to his concert. 

There was electricity in the air. People were cheering at the international rock/pop star. Banners and posters catching his attention. The chants were not dying off, even after three solid hours. At times like these, Harry feels immense pride in himself. Once a normal English boy from the tiny town of Homes Chapel. Now Harry is the shining icon with millions and millions of fans all over the world. People chanted his name wherever he went. 

Harry waves to his adoring fans, muttering I Love Yous to them. The sinking feeling that this tour will finally end. All the hard work. The grueling schedule. The trips. The countless hours travelling. This is all coming to an end in a few short moments. And Harry wants to relish every single thing. The fans. The glory. Everything. 

How fast the night changes. 

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London - Kensington Palace Gardens

The light softly hits the huge space in the most poshest area in the country. The place looks like it jumped from a decor magazine. The pristine tone wooden floors, ornate moldings made from the artisans in Morocco, and a great view of the friendly billionaires next door with the hot daughter. Across the long corridor, a wall of photos of the rock star with other famous people. Obama. Oprah. The Queen. Beyonce and Jay Z. A couple of state politicians. His famous rock star pose after his performance at Coachella.  

Harry rubbed his tired eyes as he slowly wakes from his slumber. He ran a hand through his greasy locks. His hair was getting longer and straighter now. Maybe he should get a haircut today. Harry remembers a time when his hair would grow into a certain length, and then it will turn itself into a ridiculous tumble of curls. His mom and sister used to tease him about it. Saying it made him look like a seventy year old granny with a bad perm.

Now that he's pushing 30, sporting the boyish teenage haircut wasn't cute. 

It screams desperation. 

"Good morning." 

A beautiful woman draped in a towel enters the room with a sly smile. Harry focuses on her incredibly curved body at the moment. The memories of last night slowly flooding back to his mind. 

"I hope you don't mind, Harry." 

"Sure, love." 

"There's like twenty toothbrushes in the cabinet in the bathroom," said Camille, with a small pout on her face.