-> with the band chapter 6
i’m not scared of you
A/N: dear reader, I fucked up. this is an edit of the previous chapter. if you’ve already read it, my bad - i have a new outline and have written the next six chapters, so this won’t happen again
with the band is a love on tour fanfic, slow burn harry style au. it’s like, harry from the darkest timeline in a fluffy, multi-chapter, romance about a girl with anxiety disorder falling in love for the first time. thank you so much for reading. i love any feedback, input, and criticism. this is my first story post on tumblr.
warning: angst, pining, minors DNI due to smut in the next chapter. with the band also deals with people pleasing behavior, anxiety disorder, body image issues, and codependency.
summary: izzy finally buys her own clothes. and harry is very, very worried about her.
word count: 4.8k
Izzy was an hour early for the concert tonight, and instead of meeting Meg and Lydia in the parking lot outside, she arrived with the band in their van. They were all unloaded underground along with tons of equipment. The arena looked so bright and alien without the crowd and with all the lights on. Meg and Izzy sat on the floor in the pit while Jess and her band set up. Lydia took photos of George from the wings. It was Saturday night and she was supposed to leave when the weekend was over with Meg. She pushed the thought of returning to her room out of her mind; she loved being around other people all the time, instead of alone living in her laptop. She loved everything about the tour.
She had changed into a different outfit, one George bought her that didn’t cut into her shoulders so much, and Meg was wearing some of her new clothes too. The boulder loomed in the back of her mind. Lydia’s words from earlier that day echoed like a car alarm: are you sleeping in his room tonight? Are you sleeping in his room tonight?
In the van on the way over, Izzy finally learned the basic facts about her new… friend? Weird groupie situation? George was her age, 23. George had been touring with Jess (the Starer) since he and Jess were 18; they went to high school together, joining band together (band!) in 9th grade. Their bandmate Olivia was a senior at the time and was now 26, maybe explaining why she was so chill, and Lisa was was Lydia’s age, just 21 (maybe explaining why she had no chill?). They had found each other in the small Vermont town where they were from, and just jumped into music. The only other person Izzy had met who were so sure what they wanted to do early on was Meg. She always knew it would be medicine; she was a physician’s assistant, just starting her first job a few months ago (she complained about it often, but she never doubted she was in the right field). Lisa shared that George had started out playing the tuba, which they all thought was hilarious and adorable. George changed the subject after that.
Harry was 28, and grew up working class in Manchester with a single mother. He didn’t tell her that - Harry never talked about himself. Izzy had to Google him.
George told Izzy that he had big plans: Jess Harper and her band were going to blow up. Opening for Harry was just the beginning. It sounded to Izzy like George had a humble beginning like hers. In his case, it was his dad worked a lot and his mom was checked out. He was often shipped off to this or that camp or just left to his own devices all summer—it sounded like Izzy’s many hours in the store, by herself. He played sports a lot, which explained his build. He wanted a trainer and a nutritionist (Harry had those) to support him on the massive tour. In the van, Ryan said he could get them just as soon as his social audience numbers hit a certain level. Lydia fell asleep during this conversation, totally nonplussed by the pressure on her work. The Jess Harper band was going to open for Harry at least through the American slots in the tour, and maybe Australia and Europe too. For the rest of the ride, Izzy daydreamed about California and Italy. She had many pictures of both saved on Pinterest, on secret boards. Izzy thought of her own big plans, and what she wanted to do. She had loved books and botany growing up; she loved being outside, in nature, and always wanted to have a garden. George didn’t ask her any of this, and Izzy didn’t blame him; he was going on stage in just a few hours in front of more than 10,000 people.
When they opened the gates, Izzy and Meg retreated backstage. They joined Lydia in the wings, watching the band from the side. The show looked different from there, but not in the way that you would think. Seeing the chaos underneath made it only more impressive to Izzy, more magical.
Izzy watched women stare up at George from the audience just like she had last night, eager smiles lit up by the dozen as the lights swung around the audience. She could feel the stage vibrate with the drummer’s beat, a wall of sound that propelled the Starer’s voice out into the crowd. Lydia snapped pictures of George bounding on and off stage, catching his energy that he turned on for the crowd. At each costume change George and Jess would disappear with Ryan and reappear enough energy to power the entire arena.
When the band was on, Ryan hovered at the other side of the stage, eyes locked on his performers, mouthing the lyrics. Meg and Izzy laughed at him. At least he was dedicated.
BeReal, Instagram, TikTok, Snapchat: Lydia and Izzy stole moments for all of them, Izzy anxiously watching the likes climb as Lydia lit a joint. Izzy, feeling protective of her little cousin, was going to say something, but the entire concert hall smelled like weed. And she was with the band now, and trying not to feel like a kid surrounded by adults. Lydia was a grown up and could smoke if she wanted to, Izzy decided.
George and Jess (the Starer) were thriving; the crowd seemed to go even crazier for them tonight than they had at the first concert. The crowd demanded two encores, unusual for an opening act.
When George ran off stage just as Harry was about to go on, he grabbed Izzy and kissed her in front of everyone. Like he was her boyfriend or something. Izzy thought to herself: do I have a boyfriend? Like, a real one? She felt high.
On stage, Harry seemed like a shell of himself. He was a smiling robot and his voice sounded hollow. He was even on time for his set. Izzy was disturbed.
Eddie was unsettled, pacing back and forth backstage, avoiding Ryan totally. As Eddie suffered, Ryan seemed to improve. Two more suited assistants followed him, and he seemed like the boss of the entire tour, ordering everyone around. Ryan was the manager assigned to George’s band when they signed up with Harry’s label, Sony, earlier that year. Ryan was a new hire there and seemed to be rising fast; he was going to ride the Jess Harper band to the top of the company, and pushing Harry’s sales up would help him get there too.
Harry played the set list Ryan had chosen. No Sign of the Times, Matilda, no Little Freak. No high kicking dance parties, and the base turned up so high on What Makes You Beautiful that you could barely hear him. The show was a big machine and Harry seemed like a cog in it for the first time. Meg actually yawned at one point. Izzy found it hard to watch.
Izzy checked Harry’s feed on her phone. He had so many more followers than George. His photos were effortless, and just breathed his energy (well, the energy he usually had). She slowed to a stop on the latest post, eyes catching on the comments at the top of the list.
jessH <3
↳ harrystyles 🤫
larry4ever222 OMG are they together?
jessH. The Starer. Izzy scrolled her account, too: photos of her raging on stage mixed with glimpses of a lifestyle Izzy had never experienced. Friends’ art shows, underground fashion events, videos from a trip to Europe.
Izzy gave the phone back to Lydia wandered out to the green room. The one here was decorated in the same style as the one in her city; all color and softness hidden away from the concrete and fluorescents of the machine that was backstage. She found a kettle behind the lucite bar and managed to make a cup of tea. Izzy didn’t know much about British people, but she did know that they liked tea. When she brought a cup back out to Eddie, he seemed to relax a bit, but his hands still trembled around the cup.
“The label keeps siding with Ryan,” Eddie said, taking a shaky sip. “On everything.”
“Why?”
“He keeps showing them the ‘progress’ he’s making with Jess Harper. They think he’s a genius. They think I’m...”
“You’ve been Harry’s manager forever,” Meg said.
“Yeah,” Izzy added. “Harry is the biggest rock star in the world and you helped make him. I’m sure they see that.” Eddie shook his head. Izzy tried to lighten the mood: “I can’t imagine Harry getting anywhere at all without you. He can be kind of a baby.”
“Can you blame him?” Meg said. “His music seems like a really big part of him and he’s losing control over it.”
“Ryan is going to write the deal memos for the next shows,” Eddie continued. “Once he controls the money, I won’t have any influence at all.”
Izzy didn’t know what to say.
Meg stayed by his side as Izzy went back to the green room, suddenly wanting a cup of tea herself. Lydia sprawled out on the couch, her head in Olivia’s lap, passing a joint back and forth with Lisa.
The concert was over and Ryan loomed over the room from a corner, six suits around him. Harry came in and sat down near Izzy, by the bar. He leaned his head back against the wall.
“Do I smell tea in here?” Harry asked, barely able to turn his head toward her.
“I made Eddie a cup,” Izzy said.
Harry smiled and closed his eyes. Just as he was about to say something—probably to ask Izzy to make him a cup—George burst in.
“I was looking for you babe,” George said. “Strategy sesh with Ryan. I’ll be back in 30.” He took off toward Ryan.
“Babe,” Harry spat under his breath, in a mock American accent. “You’re his babe now?”
Izzy felt anger boil up in her chest, which she wasn’t used to. “Yes, he likes me. I’m trying not to be offended by the surprise in your voice,” she said. “I do usually scare men off somehow, probably with my terrible clothes,” she said, gesturing down at her still-rubber outfit from that afternoon.
“And maybe your sense of humour,” Harry added.
“That too,” Izzy said, laughing a bit. She never thought of herself as having a sense of humour, but Harry was easy to joke with.
“I’m not scared of you,” Harry said.
George reappeared, squeezing Izzy’s shoulders from behind. She jumped a bit, surprised. “Forgot something,” George said. He kissed her in his light way before vanishing again. Izzy gazed after him, stunned.
“I thought you were leavin’ after this weekend,” Harry said, his voice low and bitter. “It’s not like you’ll see him after that.”
“You don’t know that,” Izzy said.
She walked away from Harry and plucked Lydia’s joint out of her hand, taking a long drag. She sputtered and coughed, trying to suppress it as Lydia tapped her back. Her eyes were watering and at least it looked like it was from the smoke. She never had angry outbursts, always suppressing her feelings. But with Harry it’s like she couldn’t contain herself. When she came up for air, Harry was gone. The Starer wasn’t anywhere, either.
Meg had appeared at her side.
“You’re smoking?” She asked.
Izzy shrugged. What was wrong with trying it?
“I guess there’s nothing wrong with trying it,” Meg added. Lydia held out the joint to her, and Meg took one small inhale.
Through the smoke, Lydia and Lisa were discussing how Dimes Square was played out—Izzy had no idea what they were saying.
Meg pulled Izzy aside and shared her concerns about Eddie, who was worried about Harry.
“I know it’s bad,” Izzy agreed. “But Ryan is Jess Harper’s manager and they’re killing it. So maybe he’s not wrong about everything.”
“I thought you agreed that Ryan’s ideas for the show were terrible? I think the new set is awful.”
“George seems to really like him. How bad can he be?”
Meg was about to reply when George emerged from the back room, Ryan behind him. He was breathlessly excited about something.
“Izzy!” He grabbed Izzy’s hand.
“George!”
“The band needs you here. Ryan wants you to stay on the tour, past this weekend.”
“It’s good for the strategy,” Ryan said. “All hands on deck.”
“What?” Izzy said. It was all she could manage.
“I want you here. Two more weeks in New York, for the shows here.” George didn’t understand the shocks he was raining down on Izzy, words she had always dreamed of but had never heard before: I want you here.
“I—“ Izzy stammered. “I’m not sure if I can… my mom expects me to help her with the business, and—“
“I think your mom will be fine,” Meg said. “If that’s your reason Izzy, I don’t think that’s a good one. You haven’t been away for more than the length of a doctor’s appointment since the accident.” Meg never let Izzy get by with her bullshit. It was an excuse. It wasn’t the guilt about her mom and the store—Izzy was terrified at the prospect of two weeks with George.
George tapped his fingers against Izzy’s cheekbones, and held her face in his fingertips. “I want you to stay, Izzy. The band needs you.”
“You’re learning the social stuff fast,” Meg said. “You can do it.” Izzy felt fear climbing her legs and forearms like fire. Oh god, there was no way to stay that long on the tour without telling him about her greatest shame: the Boulder.
“I’ll stay if Meg can, too,” Izzy said.
“I think that’ll be fine. She’ll have to share with Lydia, which means you’ll have to stay with me, Izzy. I’ll check with Ry.” George disappeared again.
“I have a job, Izzy,” Meg said. Under her breath, she added: “You can do this on your own.”
“I really can’t,” Izzy whispered back.
“It would be most of the vacation time I’d saved.”
“Two weeks? Manhattan? Free hotel room? You could even have Mark visit for a bit!” Meg’s husband would be returning from a friend’s bachelor party next weekend.
Meg took out her phone, knowing Izzy would leave if she did. She had banked enough vacation time for a break. Her job said yes, which surprised her; she had done a lot of overtime, and it was paying off. Meg always complained about the clinic where she worked—it was physical medicine and rehabilitation, hips and knees and stuff, and she wanted to work with kids.
“I’m going to have to borrow all your clothes,” Meg said.
“Totally fine!”
The two hugged.
“Where did Lydia go?” Izzy asked. “I have to tell her that I get to stay.”
Meg gestured toward the arena.
Izzy stumbled on an obstacle as soon as she left the green room: the Starer. Arms folded, standing between her and the door to the pit. Had she overheard everything?
“You’re George’s girlfriend now?” Jess asked, ice in her voice. “That fits.”
“Thank you,” Izzy said, returning her tone. They were leading a band together; how could being with him be an insult?
“I think you and Ryan are sort of similar and could make a good team,” Jess said. Izzy wanted to speak up to disagree, but her voice failed. “If you let him do his work and stay out of his way.”
“Got it,” Izzy said. She couldn’t speak her mind around people like the Starer, people who she desperately wanted to impress.
“These are things we have to do to make it,” Jess added. “Forget making it, just to keep going, even.” Izzy’s confusion deepened. “An artist like Harry doesn’t have to, but we have to.” It sounded like Jess was defending herself, but Izzy didn’t know from what. Maybe Jess did sense that Izzy wasn’t like Ryan, and thought that Izzy was judging him and his methods.
“I’ve been trying to keep him away from Harry,” Jess continued. “He wants Harry under his portfolio and the label will get rid of Eddie if Ryan can show in the numbers that he’s better.”
“Ryan seems to have a terrible effect on him,” Izzy agreed. “Harry’s been even more of an asshole than usual, lately.”
“Harry needs to be around people like him. Artists, sensitive people,” Jess said in a warning tone.
Izzy knew this was intended as an insult. But she couldn’t say anything back. Jess’s message was clear: stay away from him.
“When we’re big like Harry, we can go back to doing what we want,” Jess continued.
“You guys are pretty big now,” Izzy offered.
“Not big enough,” Jess said. “You’ll see.” Ryan called her from inside and she went around Izzy into the green room.
Izzy could see clearly that Jess was an artist like Harry was, or at least that’s what she wanted to be; she didn’t like all the fake bullshit, the controlled set lists, the light show. George and his band, Harry and Jess. Izzy was on the outside. She would tell Meg her entire conversation that night back in the hotel room, while they were splitting up the clothes George bought her. Meg agreed that Jess was in love with Harry, that Ryan was a bad but necessary influence, and that they would stay for two weeks then go home. Meg sat by Izzy as she called her mom and explained that she was joining Lydia for two weeks on the tour as her assistant, making it sound as proper and normal as possible. Meg stayed with Izzy with a hand on her back while she sobbed after the call, sure that she was she was a bad daughter.
But before all of that, Izzy continued on to the arena, and hung back in the doorway.
Elijah idly tapped on his percussion set, creating a lazy beat that echoed around the hall. Lydia lay on the floor of the pit, a feather boa under her head. Her palms were pressed into her eyes, elbows pointing to the ceiling. Harry stood over her, a kind smile on his face. It looked so strange with all the lights on, instruments in place for the opening tomorrow.
“Come on, broken hearted,” Harry said. Lydia didn’t get up. Izzy wore the same look of concern that Harry did. She had been worried about Lydia. She was so carefree and spontaneous and seemed so happy; but at the same time, she also seemed a bit lost.
Harry leaned down, stretching out both hands toward her. “No cure like dance,” Elijah said from the stage.
He seemed so much softer than he usually was.
Lydia lay on the ground.
“Fine,” Harry said. He lay down beside her, a few feet away. “It’ll be alright,” he continued, turning toward her.
“It definitely will,” Elijah said. He stopped playing.
Lydia inhaled and exhaled, then took her hands from her eyes. She spotted Izzy. Izzy asked what was wrong. Is it Mitch? Izzy thought. He disappeared after Harry’s set ended.
“Nothing,” Lydia replied.
“For the next two weeks, I’m basically not allowed near George because he has to focus, so I have to sleep in your room, sorry,” Izzy said. Lydia sat up.
“That’s fine, Izzy,” she said.
Izzy idly picked up an acoustic guitar leaning on a stand on stage. “What are you broken hearted about, Lydia?”
“Harry’s shit set list,” Lydia said, smiling.
“Thanks for that,” Harry said.
Izzy sat on the edge by Elijah and started fumbling her way through Volare, one of Lydia’s favourite songs from when they were kids. Hearing it brought back memories of Lydia dancing in the store, Izzy watching from the register. It was a song her grandmother had always put on.
“Two more weeks? That’s my entire residency here.” Harry protested.
“You’ll just have to suffer through it,” Izzy said.
Elijah hopped down off the stage and took Lydia’s hand. Izzy watched them dance, and Harry watched Izzy play.
When she finished the song, Elijah took over the guitar, playing something more upbeat.
“Do you ever dance?” Izzy asked Harry.
“Only on stage,” Harry said. Lydia booed him from the pit.
“Come on, broken hearted,” Lydia teased.
“Leave him alone,” Izzy said. “It’s fine.”
Izzy and Lydia found Meg and started their walk back to their hotel room in Dimes Square soon after, Harry making an excuse to stay behind (anything to get away from me, Izzy thought). Izzy wanted to walk, and they took a detour north first, happy to be outside, along the green edge of central park. Izzy held up her hand under the trees as they walked, feeling the leaves between her fingers.
“I wouldn’t be here without you,” Izzy said.
“Me neither,” Meg said. “Thanks, Lydia.”
“I’m your fairy godmother,” Lydia said. “Here to rescue you from your day jobs.”
“What are you broken hearted about?” Izzy asked.
“You were locked up in that store for so long,” Lydia continued, ignoring the question.
“But what is it, Lydia?”
“It’ll all work out how it’s meant to work out.”
“I wish you’d tell me,” Izzy pressed.
“You never tell anyone your true feelings about anything,” Lydia says.
“That’s true,” said Meg.
“But you always do,” Izyz said, “and now you’re being mysterious.”
Lyda sighed and looked up at the sky, clouded over with city lights. “You really love it here?”
“Bet. It’s so good to be around people my age,” Izzy said. “Listen to music and dance every night, spend time with you again.”
“I feel like I abandoned you. I left you behind.”
“No, no—that’s not what I meant. I left myself behind. Chained to the store. Like a little break on my part would have closed it forever.”
“It won’t. None of us are that important.”
“You literally rescued me. You’re a good person, Lydia,” Izzy said. “I’m glad I have another two weeks.”
Lydia gave her a bittersweet smile. “Then I’m glad, too.”
When they got back to their hotel room on Dimes Square, Lydia disappeared with her phone and Izzy told Meg about everything that had happened.
After she pulled herself together, she noticed a new box in the corner of the room. Two more new dresses, one for her and one for Meg. Same expensive designer, and blank card with the tour’s name on it. Izzy knew it was from George.
It was the pink dress that felt like water on her skin, her favourite one from the store. He did know her.
They fell asleep at three, wearing the dresses over their clothes. The next day, while Harry did an interview to promote one of his upcoming movies, George bought them bagels the size of their heads. They walked across the wide blocks between the Hudson and the East River, which George taught them to just call the East, around Soho, which George loved. They bought clothes for his upcoming appearances and Izzy and Lydia paused to catch the light, and some spontaneous expressions, for his socials on their phones. Then they returned to the arena, took a few rehearsal videos for the band’s main accounts, and watched the show from the wings. Izzy could hear all the pain in the Starer’s voice; she still got a full body rush when they came on. She really didn’t like Jess, but couldn’t hate her when she was on stage.
Harry’s voice was still hollow, but he was a beast on stage. Izzy always stayed to watch Harry, looking for traces of what she saw on that first night. At the end of What Makes You Beautiful, he looked over his shoulder and caught her watching him. He grinned, pleased with himself. Izzy raised her phone, pretending to do something for social.
He walked over to Elijah and Naomi to say something; they smiled and nodded.
His next song was Cinema, but instead, they did Ever Since New York, which sounded a bit like James Taylor to Izzy.
“God fucking damn it,” Ryan said from behind Izzy. Izzy jumped; she didn’t know he was back there. He looked furious.
Harry glanced back at Ryan, grinning as he sang: Almost over, had enough from you
Izzy tried not to giggle.
“You’re a bad influence,” Ryan said as soon as Harry turned back around.
“I think he changed the song for you, not me,” Izzy replied, smiling.
“George needs to focus,” Ryan continued. “He’s connecting with the crowd more than ever and we need to keep this momentum going. I’ll need your help.”
“Sure, Ryan,” Izzy said automatically. Ryan could kick her off the tour any time.
“I need you on my side in this,” he said urgently. His face was close to hers; Izzy could see how bloodshot his eyes were.
“Yes,” Izzy said awkwardly. “Whatever you need.”
“You’ll stay with Lydia and Meg through this leg of the tour, in their room. I don’t need any distractions. I need him sharp.” Izzy was more relieved than disappointed. She had been so nervous about staying in George’s room and everything that would mean. Ryan’s phone started to buzz.
“Oh—”
“I need him sharp,” Ryan repeated. His vibe was intense, borderline manic. “We’re going to test you out in a few weeks. At the gala. We’ll see what the response is.”
“What do you mean by response—”
“Thanks for being on George’s side,” he said. Ryan picked up the call, raising his phone to his ear, and walked off.
“What gala?” Izzy asked after him. Ryan didn’t turn around. When Izzy turned back to the stage, Harry’s eyes were on her. He swivelled back around to the stage fast and finished the song.
you don't know nothing, just pretend you do
Izzy smiled. New York for two weeks with George. She could put up with Harry for a little while longer. Maybe she could stay for the whole tour.
chapter7
