Work Text:
And I hear them whispering when I pass
Saying to each other "is that the man?"
With a broken heart
'Cause you tore it apart
When I was 17, I met a boy. It sounds cheesy, because it is, but I fell for him. To this day, 5 years later, I have not told him – personally – that I like him. We were two teenagers, trying to begin singing in London. When we met, it was because I was on the sidewalk, playing my guitar. He started singing the song I was playing; it was a song by Oasis. It was Wonderwall. He had an amazing voice, but I started singing along with him. He looked at me strangely before whispering:
“You sound amazing.”
I blushed. Did I mention, I blush, a lot? Especially when it is a cute person telling me something cute. I also shared a smile, while deciding to silence myself, and just play the guitar. He continued singing, closing his eyes ever so often. While holding his hand to his abdomen.
As he sang, his curly hair would move as he turned his head at about a few angles, ever so often. When his eyes were open, you could see a sparkle in his almost dark green eyes, even though, I think they were more of an emerald green.
I tried not staring at him, but whenever he was not looking, I would stare at him secretly. I had not known him long, but he looked intriguing. He could sing, looked great, sounded great, and dressed great-ly. Okay, maybe he did not dress that great, but neither do I.
“We’re done.”
He had muttered to me, while I continued playing the same few chords.
“Sorry.”
I had muttered to him, blushing awkwardly. It was embarrassing, that he probably did not even know I was only paying attention to him.
Remember, all of that was almost five years ago. I am not much older than he is, maybe 4 months older. He has not talked to me, in almost 4 years. He is famous now, touring the world. He became a solo artist, and had forgotten me.
“I’d never forget you.”
He said to me, the day before he started recording. I just nodded, understanding he probably would never forget me. However, here I stand two rows from the front, of one of his concerts. And he probably doesn’t even know I exist. He is staring into the crowd, not knowing I am here – supporting the one who had forgotten me. He is looking into the crowd, smiling at the crowd – with his happiest smile.
“It’ll be a great night.”
He spoke into the microphone. With that perfect smile, he always had. The way his hair, now not as curly, shined under the concert lights above him, was wonderful. Or maybe it was how I could see his beautiful green eyes from this distance. As he looked in the crowd, he started looking towards were I was sitting. I was nervous, because if he saw me, and remembered me, what would he do.
As he looked my way, I smiled. If I was going to be nervous, I was not going to show it. There he was, looking my way with a smile still shown upon his face. That was, until, he looked closer. His eyes squinted towards me, with his left hand shielding his eyes from the light. With that squint, probably clearer, he looked like he gasped. He quickly decided to take a break – or at least I think it was a break.
It was 2 minutes later, when he returned to the stage. There stood him, all tall and beautiful, with a man next to him. The man was shorter, with brown hair. Maybe his eyes were blue, maybe they were green. He looked beautiful too, but he could not compare.
“Hello London.”
Curly said, as he stood on stage. It was the O2 arena, and the last night of his second tour.
“I’ve got some news.”
Curly said, with a nervous tone in his voice.
“I’m gay.”
Those two words had me stunned. Mostly because it meant I had a chance with the guy I’ve been in love with, almost 5 years.
As gasps around the arena were heard, the man next to curly had grabbed his hand.
“This is my boyfriend.”
Curly said, with a smile upon his face. Fake, that’s what I knew. His smile was not real, it was fake now.
It was another year later, and I sat here, in the same spot we met. He and his boyfriend had broken up, almost 6 months after that final concert. He was happier, I had no idea why. He was also kicked off his record label, because being gay wasn’t acceptable there. He tried getting a new one, but no one accepted. It was a struggle the whole year, but at least he saved himself money.
“Hi, I’m going to sing a song I wrote, almost 5 years ago.”
I said, to the small crowd of people around me. They all nodded their heads, probably in an understanding way.
“Don't promise that you're gonna write
Don't promise that you'll call
Just promise that you won't forget we had it all”
I sang clearly, before someone paused me.
“I’m sorry, but I need to join this.”
That voice. I knew that voice. It was his. His voice was recognizable. Mostly because he talked a little slow, but he had a noticeable accent. His eyes were on me, my guitar, or both. While he stared at me, I stared at him – mostly his hair. His hair was messy, like he had woken up an hour ago and forgot to brush it. His eyes were baggy, probably from tiredness.
“Hi.”
I muttered, with an awkward stare at him. He just smiled slightly before:
“I haven’t seen you a year.”
He stated, with a light chuckle. I loved how he spoke. It was slow, yet it was straight to a point type voice. His lips moved perfectly too, because it was perfectly a pink-red colour.
“I know…”
I said, while pretending to strum my guitar again.
“I just wanted to tell you… I miss you.”
He said, with an awkward scratch to his neck. I smiled, almost sadly, but at the same time, happily. It was nice to know he did not forget me, he just forgot to contact me. It was nice thinking I was not the only one who missed him.
“I missed you too.”
I said, blushing a little.
“You know… You’re cute when you blush.”
He said, as he stroked my cheek a little. I blushed more, a more noticeable pink-red colour this time. While he started smirking at my blushed cheeks, I just stood there, not knowing what else to do.
“You’re cute.”
I blurted, mostly as a reaction. He was cute, but I did not intend to say that. I meant to say something like: thanks. However, I guess that did not work out.
“Hey, I’ve got to ask something.”
He said, suddenly sounding serious. I just nodded.
He stood there, trying to say the words. Although, he continued paused every time he mouth ‘I’ to me. I stared at him, with a raised eyebrow. He just stood there; a blank expression on his face.
“What if…”
He said, slowly getting out words. He stood there, rubbing his forehead, lightly. It was like a stressful rub.
“What if I told you…”
He sighed, as he still could not complete a sentence. I just stood there, continuing to nod and raise my eyebrow.
“I like you.”
He blurted, before slowly raising his hand to his mouth. Making a gasp sound, like he did a year ago. He kind of slapped his forehead too, or flicked it at least. As he gasped, I gasped as well. It was shocking. I knew he was gay, and so was I, but how could he like me back. I guess it’s like how I do: we share the common interest of music.
“I like you too Harry.”
I said, with a happy smile on my face. I could feel the little dimple on my cheek, just as his started showing too. If I had a mirror, I bet my eyes would twinkle, especially the green specks in my eyes. I could feel the blush on my checks, because they had felt so warm.
Harry looked at me, before asking:
“Really Niall?”