Wild Horses

SEVEN

"No matter what she does, she can't figure out what she's doing wrong..."
- Warrant; Sometimes She Cries

"Don't quite like the look of those dark clouds," Harry muttered as he stared out the window.

"Yeah, the forecast shows a thunderstorm," Jeffrey commented, not bothering to look up from his phone as he sat in the booth across from Harry.

"Great," Harry groaned sarcastically, sitting back in his seat as the waitress returned to fill their cups.

It was just as well, however. Horrible weather fit his horrible mood. He hadn't hardly slept a wink that night, worried about Amber. He still felt awful that he'd rejected her, the look on her face burned into his brain. He was worried about her drinking and if she'd done any more of it after she'd arrived at her room. She'd been upset, and in her vulnerable state, he wasn't sure what that could have caused.

But even more, he was concerned about her drummer. He certainly seemed to have a mean streak, especially when he'd been drinking. Though Harry hadn't taken the time to size him up in the hallway, he wouldn't have been surprised if Carter had taken to the bottle himself before their encounter. Harry still wasn't certain about the history of Amber and Carter's relationship, nor the current status of it, but after last night, he most definitely knew he didn't care for the lad, and he was determined to keep an eye on him.

Lifting his phone to check the time, he let out a sigh, quickly dropping it back down onto the table with a thud. It was still too early. He wanted to give Amber plenty of time to rest. But his leg jerked under the table as he bounced it on the balls of his feet. Noticing the table shaking, Jeffrey finally looked up from his phone.

"What's eating you?" he asked in an annoyed tone.

"Nothin'," Harry grimaced. "Just...wondering if we might get rained out."

"Don't you worry, H," Jeffrey half chuckled. "It's not an outdoor venue to begin with, but even if it were, I doubt your fans would mind getting a little wet."

"A little? You said a thunderstorm was coming."

"Relax, Harry!" his manager's eyes widened. "I'm just joking. But something tells me the weather is not what's bothering you."

Turning his gaze back to the window, Harry groaned, resuming the bounce of his leg.

"H, man, what's wrong? Does this have anything to do with our conversation about Iris the other night?"

Ignoring his query, Harry grabbed his phone and gave Jeffrey a quick look before sliding out of the booth.

"Harry!"

"It's okay, I just...I gotta check on something."

Pulling his hood over his head, Harry slipped out of the nearly empty cafe and jogged across the street to the hotel. Reaching the lifts, he hastily pushed the button for his floor, though his intentions were not to go to his own room.

He could hear the beat before stepping closer to the familiar door. As he lifted his knuckles, he stopped them mid-knock, awkwardly chuckling to himself when he recognized the music coming from the other side of the door.

"Everyone else in the room could see it, everyone else but you-u," the sweet voice sang along to his teenage one.

Leaning against the door, Harry couldn't help but grin to himself as he continued to listen to Amber singing, pausing between phrases with what sounded like puffs of breath. Shaking his head incredulously, he wondered how on earth she felt well enough to work out this early after the state she'd been in the night before. Still, he was pleased to know she was awake, so he waited until the chorus was over to knock.