The energy of the east coast is much different than that of the rest of the country. The air is stickier. The people are a bit edgier. And the mood of the band has drastically shifted but their change in attitude isn't a result of the humidity and change in audience. It was the fact the true nature of Harry and Goldie's relationship — what was happening behind the curtain — had been revealed.

Like a hard slap across each of The Orphans' faces, the reality was a harsh wake up call. The concept that their musical future rested in the fragile hands of one blonde-haired, blue-eyed writer. A writer who had inevitably fell for their cocky frontman and, as a result, now ultimately controlled what would become of their success.

Will he break her heart? This is the question looming over all of their heads. Not only out of fear of the article being ruined, but also out of concern for the wellbeing of the newest and albeit sweetest member of their tribe. Their Wendy.

"Did you need another beer?" Matt asks Grimmy, ignoring Harry and his empty cup beside them.

"I'm alright. Thanks, Matt." Grimmy glances at a sulking Harry. "Has anyone seen Golds? We invited a lot of people earlier when we were promoting tomorrow's show. Haven't spotted her in the crowd yet. She okay?"

Niall sneaks his way between two groupies ogling the band members. "Already went to check on her. She's still getting ready. That was like a hour or so ago now. She should be coming soon, right?"

As though Goldie was summoned by their queries, a bright ray of light peaks from behind the door of Grimmy's hotel room where the party is taking place. She emerges from the hall and steps in. She wears a satin magenta suit vest with no shirt underneath and her mom's high-waisted bell bottoms which now fit her perfectly.

"Fuck..." Harry whispers, eyes wide and mouth ajar at the sight of his real life Persephone.

She looks incredible. More mature in her body and wiser in her face. The confidence she gained from her public display of affection with Harry shows and she knows it. Knows it and embraces it.

"Guys! Hey!" Goldie waves excitedly, bringing forth the innocent girl one last moment before transforming back into the woman she's become.

The lift of her arm exposes the right side of her naked, braless breast. The rounded side presses against the tightly fitted vest. Her smooth skin blurs the barrier between where the flesh starts and where the blouse ends.

"Woah. Goldie, man. Your nipple!" Jonesy yells from the back of the party. "Harry, your girl looks like a babe, dude. When the hell did this happen?"

Harry looks up at Grimmy, Mitch, Matt, Niall and Jonesy, all of which have their eyes fixated on the goddess on the other side of the room.

"Where the fuck did you all come from?" Harry asks his bandmates before storming over to Goldie. "What... what is this?"

"I made it! I mean... I guess I didn't really make it. I had this outfit that came with the vest and thought 'what the hell' and came up with this! I was going for a Farrah Fawcett look. Do you like it?" Goldie gives a spin, her smile illuminating the room like a human disco ball.

Harry puts his hands on her shoulders to stop her from spinning. "I love it but you can't wear that here."

"Why not?"

Without word, Harry points to the boys in the crowd behind him. Their stare could practically burn a hole through her and singe the wall. Once his point is made, he begins to remove his shirt for her to wear.

"Harry, I'm not going to wear your shirt. Stop. They're probably looking at me because I- I- I'm wearing a full face of makeup for once."

"Fine, you stubborn woman," he comments with a smile. "You don't have to wear my shirt. But come here." He brings her to his side. Hooking his arm around her shoulders, he tries with everything in his might to cover the exposed parts of her upper body — to no avail — and they walk towards the band. "Fuck, why are you doing this to me? We said we were going to try and play it cool for a while in front of the guys and you walk in wearing this? How am I supposed to stay away from you now?"

"Stop," she says with a giggle, playfully hitting Harry's chest. "You're a big boy. You can control yourself for tonight."

"Speak for yourself." Harry leans in closer. "May I ask what kind of panties you're wearing under all of this?"

"Uh, I'll leave that to your imagination." She nervously laughs. While her outfit gave a convincing facade of boldness, Harry's presence still manages to derail even her most confident moments. "Hi, guys!" Goldie exclaims again, joining the band.

"Hi!" The Orphans greet in unison. The images rolling through their heads redden their faces.

"Quite the welcome! Where's the beer?" Goldie asks. Before she can finish the question, each member shuffles around to retrieve her a refreshment. Harry beats them all to the punch.

"You can have mine. Just poured it before you got here." He passes her his cup.

"Of course," Matt scoffs.

"What was that?" Harry asks. "Do you have something you want to say, Matty?"

"C'mon, boys. We're all here to kick off the last leg of the tour and have fun. Let's not get into this now." Grimshaw chimes in, in attempt to be the voice of reason.

"No, no, no, Grimmy. Don't defend him. I want to hear what he has to say. Go on, Matt. What is it?" Harry steps back, awaiting his answer while Goldie chugs her beer. She wishes she can jump into the painting on the wall and disappear into the landscape. Dance in the watercolor forest and lay in the acrylic grass.

"It was right here in front of our eyes this whole time. I fucking knew it. That's all. And I'm fucking kicking myself for not saying something sooner." Matt looks to his silent bandmates for backup. "Am I wrong? You all know I'm right. We all know how this is going to fucking end and it won't be good for anyone. Especially her!"

"And what the fuck do you know?" Harry removes his arm from around Goldie and steps toward his lead guitarist.

"He's right, H," Mitch finally speaks up. "This can't keep happening. It's not going to end well."

"I think they're just havin' a bitta fun. What's the harm in that?" Niall joins the conversation.

"No offense, Ni, but you have no fucking clue what's going on," Matt disputes.

"What the bloody hell is that s'posed to mean? What the fuck did I do?" Niall responds. The band's voices escalate. Only a few partygoers tune into the argument while the grand majority are too drunk and too loud to be made privy to the situation.

"Exactly what I just said! You don't know Harry like we know Harry!" Matt yells. The combination of alcohol and pent up aggression is never a positive one.

The Orphans had fought many times in their history as a band and as a result of their long past together, they learned how to navigate each other's psyches and idiosyncrasies. This particular dilemma, however, presents a make or break moment.

Goldie had changed Harry. She had changed all of them. And prior to this situation, the evolution she stirred in them was positive. As they stand, toe-to-toe, they realize they no longer know how to find their way to the other side of solace.

"It's not like that this time, Matt." Harry puts his arm around Goldie again. "It's different. She inspires-"

"We're just worried. That's all, Harry. Can you blame us? You have a track record. That's all I'm saying." Mitch speaks up once again. "She's writing an article about us. She came on this tour TO WORK. She could lose her fucking job if this goes bad, man. Like I said, we're just... worried."

"Can you guys please stop talking like I'm not even here?" Goldie's mousey voice squeaks from the sidelines, silencing the argument.

"Okay. That's enough. Let's all calm down and enjoy the night and talk about this-" Grimmy looks directly at Harry and then to Matt, "- when we're sober."

"That's fine but I think I speak for all of us when I say our mind isn't changing on this one." Matt drops his head, unable to make eye contact with Goldie's piercing blue irises. His heart breaks for her. If only she chose him. Or even Mitch. Anyone but Harry.

Matt shakes his head at the thought and raises his stare to find Goldie walking out the door.

"Thanks, Matt," Harry notes before following her out into the hall. "Can you come back, Goldie? Please? They don't understand. That's all. Can you please talk to me?"

Goldie stays silent. She keeps walking. She can't stop thinking. And Harry keeps following.

Time passes. The moon hovers over them like their own personal guardian angel. No sign of sun. Hardly any stars. Only them and the moon.

"Are they right, Harry?" She stops and turns. The tears in her eyes twinkle. He can't help but admire how beautiful she looks. How the moisture gathering in her bottom lids would make the perfect replacement for the stars tonight.

"What do you mean?" He hesitates, unsure of how to answer. The feelings he has for Goldie are strong but he knows himself. Better than the guys know him. The thought scares him to his core. Are they right?

"You know what I mean? We've walked for hours now. We're in the middle of fucking suburbia we've walked so far. You haven't once given me a reason, A REAL REASON, not to believe what they said back there."

"Stop." He walks to her, grasping the sides of her face. Kissing her forehead, his focus is grabbed by a treehouse nearby. "Come here." He grabs her hand and leads the way.

"Harry, where are you taking me?"

"Our Neverland." He opens the gate to the backyard, briefly miming "shhhh" as he makes his way up the ladder. She follows suit without question. "The guys and I used to have a treehouse like this when we were younger. We wrote some of our first songs in that treehouse." He laughs to himself, dropping his head. "Pretty fucking big coincidence we find this now, right?"

The hard, splintered floor is unnoticeable in contrast to the discomfort and confusion taking place inside of them. If only they had met at a different time in their lives. Would they still want to be together? What is it about them now, in this very moment, that makes everything seem so impossibly possible?

"You didn't answer me. Please. I'm begging you. I can take it if the answer is bad. I need to know. That's all I ask. I didn't join this tour to pull a Yoko Ono with The Orphans." Her small cry turns into sobbing. Her body quivers. "Please, Harry. Please."

Harry pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolds it. "I was waiting to show you this until it was complete..."

"What is it?" Her emotions halt for answers and he begins to recite the draft of his new song.

All signs of madness wash over
They throw their hearts on stage
While the moon sits
As still as David
As quiet as The Kiss
Awaiting the proper season
Awaiting sense of contentment
A flash of warmth hits his chill-stricken heart

"What is this?" Goldie asks. She slowly begins to connect the dots but craves confirmation from the writer.

"Do you really not see?" The paper shakes from his nervous hands. "Listen," he continues.

He feels lost
He's wandering
And there she is
His North Star
His guiding light

She rises
She sets
The light of the morning sky on her face
With dreams of moonlight in her eyes
It is the sun
And Michelle is the East

"Harry..."

"I have more. This is just the first one. Like I said, I didn't want to read this until-"

She cuts off his self doubt with an abrupt yet tender kiss. "I- I- I am so happy I met you, Harry."

"And I thank the heavens every day I met you too, Michelle..." Harry kisses her softly and pulls away to whisper in her mouth. "My belle."