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" 𝕳ere goes nothing".

Harry exhales loudly and brings the phone up to his ear hearing it ring incessantly.

He's not sure if she'll pick up or even talk to him but for the sake of his album . . . . he has to do this.

No matter how much he doesn't want to.

A few more rings.

She's probably not planning on picking up.

I don't blame her.

They've had zero contact since that night two months ago and though he tried to come up with something witty to text back, he had nothing.

He just couldn't do it.

So, he decided to completely throw himself into work. Immerse his days with recording and finishing up the album, his nights with watching endless reruns of 'The Office' — because really, Jim and Pam are the only thing keeping him sane at this point — then a couple of days off in August resulted in him flying to Cancún to film the very first music video for his album.

To say he's excited would be an understatement.

And soon, he leaves for Scotland for another music video which is really just a normal way of saying it's going to be an exciting next few months for him.

He wants nothing short of perfect for this album and when three days ago, a brilliant idea popped into his head he had no hesitation in sharing it with Tom.

"That actually sounds really . . . . fun. Risky but fun. I like it", Tom had grinned over the rim of his coffee mug.

"Only problem is . . . . you're gonna need consent. Like . . . . written consent. A contract of sorts".

That conversation had been haunting him since the time it happened.

And today, finally he decided to just say fuck it and call her.

Another ring.

She really isn't picking up, is she—

"Hello".

Heart. Attack.

He can't breathe anymore.

How does one even breathe? Do you just let air in or—

Inhale, exhale.

Relax, Harry. You've got this.

"Hi", he winces at the sound of his voice, his tone clearly indicating that he's mesmerised by just that one soft word she uttered.

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic, pathetic—

"Hey", some shuffling sounds and then a small sigh.

He glances around trying to recall what it was he'd called for.

His mind is a horrifying maze triggered just by the simple sound of her voice.

She's always had the sweetest voice.

Wait, no back up.

"Uhm how . . . . how are you?", he hates how nervous he sounds but there's no way to help it because this is Darlene.

She's always made him a nervous wreck.

"I'm okay. You?".

Her short answers seem deliberate but then again, if she didn't wanna talk to him she could have just not picked up the call.

"I'm fine, uhm, thanks. So, uh . . . . Darlene", another wince, he hasn't called her Darlene in a really really long time, "I . . . . had to ask something. Something really important, which is why I called".

She stays a silent for a moment or two.

"Okay . . . . what is it?".

"It's just, uhm", quick Harry, find your words, "I'm working on this . . . . song and I kind of—well, I was thinking—uhm".

Please please stop talking.

A tiny embarrassed chuckle.

Which wasn't his.

Huh.

"Harry, at this rate you won't get to your point by next year. I'm not gonna eat you alive, just say it".

Okay, just say it.

"There's this song I'm working on and I really really wanted to add something personal to it. Because . . . . you know, it's a . . very personal song. And I was hoping that little 'add-on' could be the, uh, the voice-mail you left me when you were in Paris".

"Oh".

Oh.

Oh?

Oh?????

What does that mean?

She clears her throat, "And you're planning to release this song?".

"Yes".

"And you need to me sign something?".

"Yes—wait, how do you know that?", he frowns.

Darlene sighs.

"I'm not stupid. I have some idea of how this stuff works".

This time he's the one with the embarrassed chuckle.

"Yeah, uhm well. Is it okay with you?".

A pause.

A very very long pause.

She's thinking.

She's gonna say no, isn't she?

"Uhm. Sure. Sure, yeah. That's . . . . that's fine with me. Just have your lawyer send the papers to my apartment. I'll sign them".

It sort of feels like they're getting a divorce or something.

Harry, please for the love of God, shut up.

"Or I could bring them over in person? Wait, no I don't mean—I just, uhm, maybe we could meet and you could . . . . sign it then?".

"Harry, I don't think that's a—".

"I promise it'll just be a normal date—not a date! A . . . . a normal hang out! We'll get some food and . . . . I, uhm. Gosh Darlene, help me out here".

She lets out a painful sigh.

"Fine. Dinner. Is that fine?".

The corners of his lips tug into a smile.

"That's perfect".

"Right. I'll, uhm, I'll text you. Bye, Harry".

"Bye, darlin—Darlene, bye".

They both remain on the call for a couple more seconds, silently listening to each other's breathing while Harry internally groans.

A second more and she hangs up.

Well, at least I've got dinner.

***
harry is the epitome of adorable i will SCREAM