You get me dizzy

Chapter 12

He blinks down at his sister, who’s watching him with worry in her eyes.

“What?”

“Are you okay? I’ve been talking to you for the past minute and you’re just standing there.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Here’s your water.”

Lottie takes it from him, not looking convinced at all, but she’s too busy to focus on the lights going out than on her brother. The same Rubik’s cube appears on the screen with Harry’s fingers playing with it, and Leo is experiencing some extreme déjà vu s**t right about now. And then his mind drifts off to those actual fingers that were fiddling with his jeans, that travelled down his ass and-f**k. Not the time, Leo.

Lottie is screaming the moment the first chords ring through the air and Leo’ ears are buzzing, because they’re way closer to the stage than he was at Coachella and there are way more people screaming way louder.

When the lights come on and Harry starts belting out the first song, Leo forgets how to breathe. Because Harry f*****g Styles is wearing f*****g leather pants that cling to his thighs as if they were the last parachute on a crashing plane, and his shirt. His white see-through shirt that’s halfway unbuttoned, revealing the ridiculous tattoos on his chest, which sends 90% of the stadium (Leo included) in hyperventilation mode.

Harry finishes the first song and looks around, smiling.

“LONDOOON, how are you feeling toniiiight?”

Cue the screams.

A few seconds later, when most of the people have finished screaming, Harry announces his next song and Leo moves along to the beat even though it’s a slow one and he doesn’t even know it.

Three songs later, Harry takes his electric guitar off and walks over to the edge of the stage, ready to read some signs.

“Such lovely signs tonight.” He laughs into the mic as he crouches down. “Harry can you be my ride?”

The crowd laughs and Leo does too, because he remembers that Harry was in fact his ride (sort of) during a few songs at the festival.

“I assume you mean shoulder rides, don’t ya?” he says in a low voice and Leo mind goes blank because-he can’t not know.

Harry tries to listen to what the person with the sign has to say, before he shakes his head. “To be quite honest, my shoulders are still a bit sore.”

Okay, he definitely knows that Leo is in the audience, hearing everything he’s saying into the microphone.

“Oh, I see there’s someone there on their phones.” Harry says and the camera on the big screen shifts on a guy who’s currently texting someone.

The guy looks up and a terrified expression settles on his face, but then a guy next to him places his arm around him in a reassuring manner.

“Who’re you texting?” Harry asks, and guy-with-phone says something that looks a lot like ‘my sister. “Your sister?” Guy-with-phone nods. “Well then, tell her I said hi.” Harry winks. “Why isn’t she here?”

So Harry’s really trying to understand everything that guy is saying huh. Leo is watching the screen, which is focused on Harry’s face now.

“Oh, she’s not in London.” Harry pouts. “What’s her name?”

There’s a pause as Harry waits to understand. “Jade? Jane! Give it up for Jane everyone!”

Leo can’t help but smile, because Harry sure loves moments like these. He walks back to the mic stand and places his microphone back.

“What is it with guys who talk to their sisters at my concerts?” he laughs and Lottie turns to Leo, mouth agape. She presses two fingers to her neck to check if she’s alive, which makes Leo laugh and almost forget the fact that this is the second Coachella reference Harry’s made since the concert started.

You know what they say; first time is an accident, second time’s a coincidence, but the third time’s a pattern.

Leo thinks about this during the whole set, and when Harry announces Medicine (which probably also indicates the end of the concert), Leo wonders whether he’ll do that lyric change he’s 99% sure he heard right during Coachella.

When the last chords ring through the arena as Harry ends the song, Leo tries to hide his disappointment about the fact that he sang ‘got drunk on you’. Maybe he did mishear three weeks ago, and maybe it was all in his head. But he’s not really disappointed, even after all the bullshit about how Harry definitely wants something that Zayn filled his head with before coming here.

When the lights come on and Harry’s gone, Lottie turns to him with tears in her eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Leo asks, even though he can’t deny the fact that he also has post concert depression. Sort of.

“It was the best thing I’ve ever experienced Leo.” Lottie cries and hugs him. “Thank you so much for this. I can’t-thank you.”

Leo’ heart jumps in his chest and he genuinely feels happy for his sister, so he suggests going for ice cream down the street to end the day in the best way he knows how.

They’re close to the exit when they hear faint screams in the background so they turn around to see Harry running up on stage to greet the people who are still waiting at the VIP area, in hopes of seeing him again.

“f**k!” Lottie cries, tugging at Leo’ arm. “We should’ve stayed, but I thought-nevermind.”

“What?” Leo asks, looking at how Harry’s taking photos with the people at the fence.

“He only came out after the show once before in Amsterdam, but people basically mobbed him and he was banned from coming out after shows.”

There’s people running back to the stage, screaming as they’re taking their phones out, but before Leo can even blink or suggest that they go back, two security guards come up behind Harry and nearly tear him away from the fans.

And just like that, he’s gone.

***

It’s been two weeks since the concert. It’s also been two weeks since Zayn told him that the only reason he didn’t get Harry’s number is because he decided against the ‘look at my ass’ jeans and just went with the ‘I have great legs’ jeans.

“Look, all I’m saying is that you should’ve-“

“It’s been a fortnight, Zayn. Let it go.” Leo sighs and puts his cigarette out in the ashtray.

They’re at their apartment, sitting on the balcony to enjoy a little bit of sun- or ‘the only vitamin D you’re getting’ as Zayn calls it. It’s 2pm on a Friday and since they live in a quiet area in Hampstead, it’s quite nice because the people living in their neighborhood are off to work.

Leo closes his eyes and leans back into his chair, exhaling. It’s kind of therapeutic, sitting on their balcony on a Friday afternoon with birds chirping somewhere in the trees, the sun stroking his face and the low crumpling of a paper as Zayn tries to roll the first joint of the day.

They decided to stop their ‘wake and bake’ tradition a few months ago when they were trying to save up for Coachella, but now that it’s long gone and there’s nothing to ‘save up for’, Zayn came into Leo’ room the night before and suggested they reinstate the tradition. To be fair, they were both pretty stoned when the decision was made but in Leo’ defense, it’s not like he spends money on anything else other than rent and food (‘it’s not like you have any other expenses, you know, like going out’ Zayn argued). Plus, it was a unanimous vote, so who is Leo to argue with democracy?

“Do you need help with that?” he asks and opens one eye to look at the table where Zayn is struggling to close the joint.

“Nah, got it.”

Leo watches him lick the paper and swiftly close it with one finger, before he taps the filter against the table and proceeds to stuff it with the roll of his clipper.

“Noah called.”

Leo opens both eyes now. “Noah The Irish?”

Zayn nods.

“Coachella Noah?” Leo double checks.

“The same one.”

“What did he say?”

Zayn lights up the joint and takes a few drags to get it going before he lets the smoke out in Leo’ face. “That he just realized that we’re all actually living in London and that he’s celebrating a mate’s birthday this weekend.”

Leo waits for him to continue the sentence, but it apparently stops there.

“Aaand?”

Zayn passes the joint and leans back into his chair. “Aaand, he asked if we wanted to come with. It’s Bryan’s birthday, if you remember him.”

“Small guy with the weird beard?” Leo asks, coughing a little.

“Yeah.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said I’d ask you but that we’d be there.”

Leo nods, passing the joint. “Where is it?”

“A pub in the city somewhere. Have to ask for the name because I forgot.”

“I think I have appointments until eight tomorrow, but we can make it work.”

Zayn agrees by passing the joint. “It would also be good to get out more.”

Leo rolls his eyes. “Can you stop nagging for like two seconds?”

“Can you stop pretending like you don’t want someone to d**k you down? Actually, not even want, but need?” Zayn argues.

“I thought you didn’t like that term.”

“That was back when I thought it might happen. Now, I’ll accept any term as long as it’s going to happen. Desperate times call for desperate measures I guess.”

Leo huffs. “Why are we always focusing on my s*x life? Let’s talk about yours. How’s Ryan doing? Oh wait, that’s right. You dumped him two months ago.”

“Technically, it’s not called dumping if we weren’t in a relationship.”

Leo takes a hit. “What would you call it then?”

“Ghosting.”

Leo pulls his lips into a thin line and c***s his head, making sure that Zayn can read the disappointment on his face.

“What? Leo, we were fucking.”

“For three months.”

“So?”

“Sooo, you can’t just not reply-“

“He was getting clingy, Leo.” Zayn says and raises both arms in defence.

“Maybe the problem is you-“

“Why are we changing the subject? We were talking about you.”

“And we’ve been doing that for the past month and a half, ever since the ‘Harryncident’.” Leo huffs, making air quotes for the last word.

“Did you come up with that name just now?”

Leo nods and makes a face when Zayn takes the joint from his fingers. “Anyway-“

“Look. We’re going to go to that pub tomorrow, we’re going to drink, and we’re going to like it. And if it just so happens that we’re going to meet someone there to ‘d**k us down’ or whatever-“

Leo interrupts him by raising a hand. “Why do you assume I need to find a guy?”

Zayn squints at him. “Because I know you, and you were clearly gagging for Harry to give it to you.”

Well, he’s got a point. What he doesn’t know is that Leo’s been having dreams about getting f****d by Harry at least once a week, until they started turning into him getting f****d period.

A long comfortable silence follows after that, only filled by the sound of the smoke coming out of their mouths and the occasional car passing by.

“You want to know what I think?” Zayn asks after a few minutes.

“Do I ever have a choice?”