It's silly really, the entire scenario that she's found herself in. Ada could laugh, nobody would hear it over the music. It's loud, and people are taking turns at the stage. Though She could go join the group, she should, rather than lurking in the corner like a weirdo, fixated on a previous performance. She's not laughing, even at herself. She'd kinda drooling, way more embarrassing.

But she just had to watch him.

He was in his element, relaxed, on, charming, lit up like a Christmas tree. Merry, bright.

She'd never seen him like this, in the flesh. Glimpses, in the interviews she watched and called research. She'd seen the fuss there, agreed to the picture partly on the strength of it.

She could see it, what the fuss was about. And it was the first real glimpse she'd had, besides those moments she felt she had to steal from him to get on film. She was beginning to think there was a limited supply of Styles' magic. Perhaps, that was why she was only able to get a precious few minutes a day.

Watching him now, that did not seem to be the case. Harry was incandescent and she felt blinded by the light. She could chalk that up to all of her rockstar fantasizes brought to life, but it didn't explain everyone else's rapt attention on him, their enthrallment. Maybe they all had a grunge fetish too?

When she walked in and she clocked him, even with the stupid glasses that obscured his face, festive she supposed, he looked different.

On set he looked, perfect was the word that came to mind, but not in the way people usually meant. Polished and made up and proper in his prince clothes. Perfect, fake. And anxious, like the film was a bit of an albatross around his neck. Or maybe the pressure. And he looked like it was heavy, all the trappings trapping him. Ada worried over it. Like, the movie made him regress. Maybe it felt too familiar. He said that a lot when they talked about scenes, when he was frustrated with himself.

"I know just how he feels."

Because he had been there. Is that why he had such a hard time getting the shot? Because it made him freak out a little, feel like he'd not called his own shots for years? But he'd made these choices. Had agency. Maybe she could help him see it as therapeutic. Because it was a way to safely rebel - a redo, no risk.

She'd talk to him about it. They needed to have that drink. She could order him one now.

Ada shook her head. Not tonight. She didn't want to kill his vibe tonight. It was too lovely to watch, and to live she guessed. No shop talk.

He looked light as a cloud, and as soft edged too. Nothing perfect or fake about him. His skin was a little slick under the stage lights, the ridges near his nose were shiny especially. He had glitter on his cheeks, but not like highlighter, like the glasses he wore were cheap, and shedding tiny pieces of shine.

But he did shine.

And he had sounded good.

Not everybody could sing Nirvana, in a chest voice no less.

She was weaned on that. And really into indie rock, especially grunge, while her dad was fostering 90's slick hip hop. It was a silly means of rebellion, but she took her opportunities to disappoint Garner seriously.

She remembered her dad had called the cover of in utero obscene, which made her laugh as he had just put out a video full of nearly naked females in bikinis, but anatomical drawings were obscene. Okay.

She had snuck a new copy in after he threw the first one away and poured over the lyrics in her baggy jeans and crop top with a flannel. Had a giant crush on Kurt, May he Rest In Peace, and when she met Dave Grohl it may have been the only time she was really starstruck.

Well, she felt like she had been hit about the head by a celestial being currently. Harry had it, that was for sure. How had she missed it? The bushel basket he'd been hiding his light under must have been thick. There was something obscuring her view or his personality definitely. Not tonight. Star power was all over him tonight; that was the boy she had signed up to direct. Right there, from those red carpet clips she'd watched. Those sold her and then she had watched concert footage, shaking camera and all. Those were another level. This silly karaoke gig almost matched the wattage when he was bedecked and bantering on stage. He looked dashing, and like he could carry a movie on his thick shoulder pads all with a joke on his vibrant lips. That man was in this building, singing one of her all time favorite songs. It had an effect.

Wow, the rasp in his voice. God, she was still reeling and hiding out in the back like her crush was nearby.

Her eyes widened.

That's what was going on! She was doing what she had done with Danny Diaz in 10th grade. She wasn't teenage dream obsessed about him, really. But, she'd paid him a lot of attentions, clandestinely. He'd been so cool, and was really into raving. Which, in hindsight, made his post high school life a little clearer. But he liked music that had nothing to do with her dad and he was cute, had long bangs and a shaved head and he could dance! She loved to dance.

She needed to go, before this bloomed like a cherry blossom and she fell off in a great big clump to wait for shoe marks. Like 10th grade, only less poetic.

The pathway to the door was clear. Her heels on the floor made a click click click, though nobody should be able to hear it. She turned back to make sure nobody was following her, was watching, and her heel caught, right in a crack in the concrete floor.

"Shit!" Her ankle twisted and her heard a crunch, that was not good, but her trajectory to the ground wasn't either. Her hands went out to catch her.

He smelled good, like leather a bit, smoky, with a sweet tinge. And he caught her and hoisted her up like she was feather light. She never felt like that, because she was the tallest of her friends, not even tall, just taller, and she had never been small. She had that insta baddie body before it was popular. Grown up in the big titty, little hippy 90's. She always felt huge.

But not right now. He had her, was righting her before her weight came down and she properly broke something. This felt like that time she'd sprained her ankle jumping fences to go skating with the boys. Stupid heels.

Back to the rom com moment she found herself in. He's caught her under the arms. His hands span her whole armpit and his fingers curled into her scapula. Ada spared a thought for how sweaty her underarms might be. Yuck! But she should be ok, she'd gotten properly ready, lots of antiperspirant. She knew that, took a deep breath and then realized she'd missed something. He's staring at her expectantly. The rockstar with the totally revealed charm. Harry.

"What?" It came out with no finesse, like a burp.

"You ok?" Harry was kinda grinning and loose, left eye more hooded than his right, and his breath, definitely 80 proof. She heard the shift and he's no longer got her in a dip fit for a tango . She felt like she'd been whirled and thrilled.

"Um, I think I'm ok." She realized they were still locked in an embrace when she tried to check her foot. Ada looked down at the place his hands had migrated to, on her hips. She didn't really need to look, she could feel all ten fingertips, like little bruise marks formed from hope not pressure. It saved her from looking at her own hands where they were full of the muscular forearms she knew to be covered in tattoos beneath the green button-up he had on. It was a a stall.

But Harry released her the minute he saw her eyeing his familiar hands. She had him well trained apparently. Massive walls between them. They were massively out of place at the moment, regrettable. She wasn't balanced on her feet yet either. Ada nearly fell before he steadied her with a rebound hand at her hip. She caught it to stand on one foot, for safety.

Her ankle circled around ok. She felt a twinge of pain, but it was entirely manageable. That was good. She'd probably need to stay off of it, no treadmill tomorrow, and she'd need to elevate it. Ice too, she could ask the bartender for some. She was plotting how to locate an ace type bandage, and who would be best to ask for that. They may have some in makeup - they'd used them to bind breasts on Wildflower, but she couldn't think why they'd have them for this movie. Harry had perky nipples, but they didn't need to be bound. Stop thinking about Harry's nipples. The lowlight would thankfully mask her blush. Wait, Maybe she could ask his friend, Masa, he owned a gym.

Harry. She could ask him too. And that would be really easy because he was still right there. Holding her hand.

They had laced their fingers at her hip. Ada looked at Harry, he had a huge lazy smile on his face. Pleased as punch. She was punch drunk, though she wouldn't say it. He looked so young and toothy. Though the gathering of sweat at his hairline, little droplets above his upper lip, made him real. Imperfect.

She shook herself and their hands unlatched. "I need ice I think?" Of course she needed ice. What was she talking about? Who even was she? Next she's start babbling, and tuck her hair behind her ear and duck her chin.

"Yeah, and a way to put it up." His head swiveled around and he nodded. "C'mon." He gently took her arm and looped it around his shoulder. He was just tall enough.

The table was closer than she would have liked, a walk under his arms was worth remembering, but it was good for her foot. Harry sat her in a booth and put both hands out in a straight stay there motion then grabbed a chair and propped up her ankle gently. The wrong one, but she went with it.

"Be right back." He tripped a little as he looped off to the bar. Ah, that looked normal. The trip to the bar was only the chorus of the song too. He didn't wait long for the bartender. The whole place seemed to be filled with their group, pleasantly vibrant, but not busy. . It was a quick exchange, with a little sign language thrown in. He was big on hand talking on a normal day. Gesticulating when he described most things. He was very full body engaged and engaging before scenes, before he floated away on her.

Huh, she just thought about that, Henry wasn't gesticulative. A little more in the Akio scenes.

She hadn't noticed that Harry had layered physical control into his performance. She found herself nodding. That was good. Made total sense for a royal.

He was walking back to her now with a thin white towel and he was crunching ice in it. Oh shit - she hadn't switched feet, she'd been watching him.

"Cold!" She flinched, "a little warning Styles!"

"Sorry," he chuckled. "I figured me walking from the bar with a towel after I went over to get ice was warning enough." He curled his tongue a little at her and the ice gave her goosebumps.

Wow, maybe he needed liquid courage on set sometimes. All his nerves were gone.

"Usually someone tells you they are about to put ice on you, even nurses, unless they are trying to be little shits!" She arched one of her brows st him. They were her favorite feature and she used them to her advantage.

"You got me, just wanted to see you squirm, since you get to see me uncomfortable a lot." His slow cadence sometimes bugged her on set. It was another thing she could find irritating, during the literal 11th hour. Ada talked fast. She talked a mile a minute on set because they had shit to do and her brain was usually ten paces ahead of her mouth.

But it was kinda nice, the way he took his time.

"You sounded really good! When you were singing." Oh God he blushed. It was his job to sing, did he know that? "You moonlight in a Nirvana cover band often?" She flexed her foot where his hand was still moving ice around to find the sore ligaments, on the wrong foot. She followed the fire and ice.

He squawked a laugh. "No, just the one time, and only because Kunichi is so persistent. I think he could sell bad fish to a Tokyo chef!" He raised his eyebrows and Ada caught her hand just before she covered her laugh.

"So, it's not the song you've always wanted to sing? That wasn't you living out your teenage rock dream?" He shook his head, just hers then.

"Oh, it's a great song, I love rock." He moved his head like, obviously. His body of work spoke to that. "But I like a little more melody when I'm convinced to do karoake," he made a drinking motion and she was laughing again. "I like disco divas and duets. And if there is absolutely nobody around to tell on me or god forbid, record, Britney Spears is a blast to perform." He'd placed his hand to block his lips from curious eyes and leaned in to tell her this secret. His lips were plump, they like to reach out and touch her faith.

She was thirsty.

Oh shit, did she just say that out loud? How much had she already had, while skulking in the shadows?

"Sure, what do you fancy?" Quicksilver grin, poisonous and enigmatic.

"Um," what had she already had? "A dirty martini!"

"How dirty?" He flashed his eyebrows.

"Very, three extra olives." She gave him her single brow, the one that she used to dare him when that was what he needed on set.

"Three olives!" He made a shocked face. "Well, I never." And he gave her the goofiest grin and went to grab her drink. He looked comfortable. Like a favorite hoodie she wanted to wear. She only got to really watch him one way. He was back quickly.

He sat by her when he put down her cloudy drink. She'd switched legs while he was away and thought she'd got away with it, but caught his eye as he was studying her legs and he smirked at her.

That was a damn good face. "You need to do that for the scene Monday, the one at the club." Ada segued seamlessly into shop talk. She was actually really excited about that one. It was set at a place she had frequented in her time here; she had really happy memories. She was feeling really excited too, this felt like an actual fresh start, she should have taken Harry up on his offer of a drink ages ago. He was a joy loose. This was the rapport they needed, him loose and smirky, handsome with a side of solicitous and cocky sauce. This was the Harry Styles she'd been waiting for!

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Harry felt like he should get an Oscar for this performance. For his steady hands, that he was currently sitting on, and the confident smirk. It wasn't all an act, but the amount of times he'd had to turn this on like a lightbulb in an interview was invaluable right now. It was mostly fake those times, maybe even faker now. He had been relaxed and joyous, and then he had been so relieved to see her smile at him, he just went with it. But the minute he walked away from her, the first time, for the ice, the nerves kicked in. But he faked it, like a seasoned porn star, because she was looking at him, and touching him, and holy shit! Ada Scott was hanging with him. He would keep the action and make the moans believable.

Wow! Was this the way women felt all the time? When they had to put on some performance for the man they were interested in, or for the men they weren't, but couldn't offend?

It felt easier to relax tonight. The day had set him up for success. Things had ended so well on set, and he'd been in the best mood, and had gotten brave. He'd gone to her trailer. To invite her again. Harry was excited about the evening at the bar and seeing music, though he wasn't sure what it would be like, because it wasn't a gig, nor karaoke, some hybrid he had been told. He liked novel nights out.

But everybody was coming. His whole Japanese network, including Jeff and Masa and his girl!

Everybody but Ada. So he'd put on his man panties and went going to ask her. She needed to be there, and even though she'd turned down all of his invitations and returned the replacement shoes, he was going to ask her again. For the whole cast. They had months left and needed to bond.

He needed to bond with her. It felt possible after their day on set, her brow wasn't creased and she didn't speed walk away. She slowed down enough for him to keep up. They'd had a conversation, not about a scene. He'd kept up and not drifted away on her voice. She walked and talked fast. He liked it.

Masa loved to laugh at him, and was doing just that while he psyched himself up to go talk to her. "Just go ask the lady." He'd arrived to take him back to the hotel to Harry stalling. Masa was giving him a look.

His grin was presumptuous. Harry didn't like it. It felt like he knew. Yuki knee, Masa might. Harry did, know, but he didn't think he was so obvious. Did she know?

"You need a tutu?" Masa heckled.

"What?"

"Your mind is like a dancer on drugs," he made a flitting motion with his hands. "you might need a tutu for making the decision. "

"Oh fuck off, man!"

"Just go ask her. It's a cast party, I haven't even met her and she's supposed to be the leader. She needs to come. A leader should." Masa's brow shrunk.

"She is the leader, she's the boss!" He was full of defenses for her. "If you were allowed on set you'd see."

"Oh, I'm not allowed." Harry had neglected to outright tell him that, just let him be distracted, that would run out when they had to go on location. Whoops.

"You'd make fun of me, I've been totally fucking up. So you aren't allowed. At all."

"Isn't the movie about a royal fucking up?" Masa said after catching his wheezing breath. He sounded like a dragon with hay fever.

Hmmm, Harry'd have to have a think on that. That was a plot point he should consider when he was flagellating himself. Maybe he could use it, all his self frustration. He shook himself and jumped up and down like he was going on stage, when he turned around to tell Masa he was going, he was laughing at him, again.

"What now?"

"Are you going to punch her?" He gulped the air. "You do that before you box."

"I just need to hype myself up." Harry shook his head out.

"She must be really pretty."

"Shut up." She was really pretty, but it had been an asset today, made the scene work and Harry had decided he needed exposure therapy. So he needed to be around her, more. He was gonna go talk to her, get used to her face.

He strode to her trailer and stopped cold outside before he could knock. For once, it was not over nerves, but his jaw which had dropped to the floor. That sound as coming from her trailer.

She was singing. Well! To Mary J. Blige's Real Love. And he wanted to sit on the little steps up to her door and listen.

So she could have gone into the music business, had everything going for her there. Connected daddy, pretty face, hot body, and pipes. Wow, she could belt! He had goosebumps. Her voice was rich and evocative. Deeper that he expected.

And he could not talk to her. Not now. Now she was even more impressive.

So he did what any brave young lad would do.

He asked his manager to do it.

Jeff smirked, but sent the text. And like the magic 8 ball he could be, he made the face he did when the outlook wasn't good.

So Harry had resigned himself to Ada not coming to the bar. He was disappointed, but also relieved. Those two feelings must be dating as often as he felt them together when it came to Ada. If she didn't come, he could relax and have fun, let loose, but not bond with her, or have another chance to impress her. Or throw up on her. There would be alcohol involved again. He needed to gain back the ground he'd lost when he spewed at her feet.

A second chance at a first impression.

But Jeff seemed to be right, as he often was. Ada was softer with him after the last cut because he had done a good job. He'd work that angle to bond.

He resigned himself to having another kick ass day on Monday for him and Ada, and having a great time tonight for himself, free of expectations. He was feeling buoyant, Kunichi had noticed right away, pounced and got him on stage. First on the drums, which he played like a 7th grader after a few lessons, and then on the microphone.

God, it was fun. So fun. And he felt the perfect amount of tipsy, like tomorrow he'd need two paracetemol and extra water, a good sweat and nothing else.

He felt extra intoxicated when he spotted Ada. In tight jeans and a slimmer t-shirt than normal, and high heels. He tried not to stare at her ass on a sneaker day, he was doomed with the thrust the 3 inches gave her curves. She looked amazing, but she looked like she was leaving. And he'd just realized she was there!

The social lubricant in his blood didn't give him a chance to think better of it. He was walking to Ada. He got there just in time. Her heel stuck in a crease in the floor, and he caught her. It was every rom com moment he'd ever sat on his mum's couch moon eyed over in one.

He got to help her. And he was able to talk to her like a normal human, and get her a drink. All in the span of 20 minutes!

She seemed relaxed, her shoulders pressed against her tee nicely, but were down, easy. And she smiled at him, a lot.

He was trying his best not to think, he'd spin out. When he went to get her ice towel and then the martini, god, she kind of flirted, right? People flirted with him all the time, or went mute. She didn't do either until tonight. And he was buzzing, more off the flirting at this point than the alcohol.

The little insecure boy inside, the one who was really loud in new situations or around new people, especially people he admired, was chiming in about the stage. The stage cast a spell on people, and he worried about people who knew him from it or expressed attraction to that aspect of him.

It's why he'd always held back with Helene, regrettably.

He didn't want to make that mistake again, he'd made wrong assumptions that cost him Helene's affections. He didn't want to do that here, wanted to do the opposite. Part of him wanted to dive in, head first, but he wasn't sure. Rejection hurt no matter who you were, and though he'd had his share, Harry's skin was still cling wrap thin. He wanted her to like him too. He wanted this to be real. Which meant he had to be honest, and open. But he was rushing it, like he did when he was crushing.

He was going to let this night be what he hoped it would be, a beginning. And he was that guy, the one on stage, with the smirk, and the wit. He was also less commanding, and lost his cool at times, but she'd seen that guy. He just needed to show her more of his best side, tonight, and on set.

He caught Kunichi motioning to him. Ah, he'd almost forgotten his promise.

He leaned back, let his arm brush her shoulder while he relaxed. He'd turn on the charm for just a minute, he could manage that, he wanted something he'd been a little consumed with for the better half of this night. And he wanted it from Ada.

He flexed the dimple and titled his head to the side. "This smile?" He pointed his finger at his lips.

"That's a good one, but no. The cockier one!" Oooh, he really did love that eyebrow. Gave him tingles.

"I will do my absolute best," he smirked and her lashes fluttered. "If you'll come up and sing with me."