The rough feeling of the pink sequins of her dress stand on end as she rubs her hands against her lap. It was a cheap garment, picked up from a local New York City thrift store down the street from their hotel. She didn't feel comfortable going to the hottest club in town, Studio 54, in any of the clothes she brought with her. The floral embellishments make her feel dainty and sweet. The fit makes her feel elegant and sexy.

Her mom's bell bottoms and fitted tops were her cocoon. This dress is colorful wings, spread proudly with courage and independence.

She smooths the frizzed, stray hair against her scalp, melding the golden strands into her tight, high bun. Dipping her ring finger into her cherry lip balm, she spreads the sweet-tasting gel across her soft lips, her heart saddening at the thought of not sharing the flavor with the boy from her dreams and reality.

"Knock, knock," a familiar voice rings at the bathroom. Niall steps in. With her current issues with Harry, she decided to get ready in Matt, Jonesy and Niall's room. "We're gonna get going soon. Are you almost done?"

She and Harry are still bunking together in the hotel but showering, naked, with him on the other side of the wall proved to be a much more difficult task than she anticipated. She instead made up an excuse to visit her neighbors and gussied up there. Harry said everything she thought she wanted him to say, but his words put her at war with herself. What would she say back? What would Jimmy do?

"Why aren't you talking to me? Please. I'm begging you. Say SOMETHING. Anything." Harry watches as Goldie stoically unpacks her suitcase. The skin on his chest throbs in response to his breaking heart beneath the surface.

"What do you want me to say? We have to get ready. Let's just talk tonight, okay? After Studio 54." She rubs her makeup-less eyes, exhausted from the trip and the ongoing awkwardness between her and Harry.

"Fuck, Studio 54! I don't need to go. All I want is for you to talk to me. For you to let me know what's going through your head. I can't take this anymore, Golds?"

"I promise you, when we get back from the club we can talk. This night is going to be a great moment for you and the guys. You're going to rub elbows with some of the biggest people in the industry. Don't let this distract you, please. You can't turn this down." She walks over to him, the tips of their toes mere centimeters apart. "You take the bathroom and get ready. I'm gonna go to one of the other rooms and shower. I'll see you in a bit."

"I miss you is all, Belle..." His voice says quietly as the door slams behind her.

Her heart beats in syndication with her rapid footsteps down the hallway. Her trembling knuckles bang on the hotel room door of Niall, Matt and Jonesy's shared room. Music blares on the other side. Jonesy swings the door open and even though there are more people in this room, the light energy makes it feel more open.

"Goldie!" Jonesy exclaims, a lit joint wiggling on his lips with every word. "What gives us the honor of your presence?"

She snaps the rolled paper from his mouth and takes several puffs before passing it back. "I need a drink."

"I'm ready! Coming!" Goldie steps out of the bathroom, heels in hand.

"Wow..." Niall, Jonesy and Matt say in unison with their mouth ajar.

"Do I look okay?" She asks self consciously.

"You look... incredible," Matt responds.

"You better save me a dance, man," Jonesy adds.

"You look like a batch of freshly baked cookies," Niall chimes in.

"Aw, thanks guys." Her heart begs the question of whether Harry will like her look but she doesn't dare ask it. This night is about helping the band network and getting details for her story. She must place all her selfish thoughts aside and focus on the task at hand. She starts to fasten the buckle of her shoes. "We ready to go?"

"GUYS!" Harry yells with an aggressive knock. "What's going on?! Are we going? Is Goldie in there?"

"She left hours ago, mate!" Matt responds.

"WHAT?!" Harry says shockingly. "Open the door! We gotta go meet her! Did she leave by herself?"

"Matt..." Goldie scolds as she walks to the door. The heavy wood swings open. Harry's hand hangs in the air mid-knock. "Hi," her breathy voice manages to utter the short greeting as her blue eyes gaze at his green. She longs to hear more apologies. For him to sweep her into his arms and forsake the rest of the world.

"Michelle..." Harry growls. The sight of her curves in the dress brings something out of him he hasn't felt in some time. His stomach tightens at her edges and soft skin.

The instant she opened the door. The moment her sparkly dress refracted the light of the hallway. Everything he wanted to say fled. She's a night sky, stretching miles and miles with glistening gaseous clouds in the distance. A vast galaxy filled with memories and opportunity. She's made up of stars, thousands of lightyears away, already gone. Yet their light still pierces his ocean irises. An ocean. A sea. Clinging to the gravitational pull of the star in front of them to continue its tide. Being together was the natural order of things. Yet they resist as a result of pride and exhaustion.

"Ready?" Goldie evades Harry's adoring gaze and looks to the rest of the guys. "We have a night ahead of us, boys. Look sharp."

She stomps out of the room and down to the lobby. Harry follows closely at her toe.

* * *

The Orphans and Goldie stand at the entrance of Studio 54, shoulder-to-shoulder with the others trying to get in. The owner, Steve Rubell, stands on a platform in the middle of the chaos, cherry picking the people he admits.

"You!" Steve points to Harry amid the sea of chaos. "You long-haired god. I must have you in here. Come. Come." He signals for Harry to join.

Harry grabs Goldie's hand and makes his way to the door.

"And you! Who is this blonde god-dess in my midsts?" Steve points his long finger at Goldie and at the Polaroid camera hand around her neck. "You two. You two are my everything. I don't normally allow cameras but for you Goldilocks I'd permit anything. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Goldie, sir," she responds politely.

"GOLDIE! I called the girl Goldilocks and her name is Goldie. I really do know my shit don't I, Bruce," he says to the bouncer at his right. He turns his attention back to Harry. "And who are you? Hercules?"

"Harry!" He yells through the roars of the loud crowd. "I'm with The Orphans! We were invited!"

"Now look at this gang of good looking young men!" Steve comments, pointing to each bandmate. "I'd like to toast you up and spread some jelly on you," he narrows his gaze at Jonesy. "Get in there, boys! Before I change my mind!"

"That guy's the man, dude," Jonesy comments, half-baked.

Harry laughs with 99 percent of his focus still on Goldie.

A large disco ball spins in the middle of the dance floor. Men in short shorts pass out shots and champagne flutes and pills. Strobes of green and red and blue flash across every nook and cranny of the establishment. Goldie stands shocked and amazed by the sight. She'd never seen anything like it. Everyone dancing with anyone. Women kissing men. Women kissing women. Men kissing men. It's a festival of love and acceptance. While it's sensation overload for her, Harry can only see her.

She's amid waves of people. A lonely buoy. The isolated moon, pulling the tides in any which direction she desires.

"What are you lookin at?" Goldie asks when she notices Harry's stare.

His eyes can't help but hone in on the beams of light hitting the sheen of her dress and the dew of her cheek. "What is quite possibly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my entire life."

"Harry, stop," she responds with a giggle.

"I mean it, Goldie. Give me that camera. Pose there." He grabs the Polaroid from around her neck and points to a reflective wall behind her.

Goldie forces a smile. And Harry can see it's unnatural. "Oh, come on. You can't deprive the world of that beautiful grin. Smile like you just saw the lead singer of a band get pantsed with a boner."

The memory makes her giggle and a large smile stretches across her face. The flash of the camera disappears into the bright strobes of the club as the photo is spit out the front.

Harry shakes the material as it develops and passes it to Goldie.

"God, I hate my ears," she comments as she looks at the photo. "Why did I choose to wear my hair back tonight?"

"I think they're the cutest things I've ever seen," Harry comments, kissing the top of her reddened, right ear. "I wish I could sing to these ears every morning for the rest of my life."

"Harry," her soft voice rings through the loud music. She looks up at him through her lashes.

"Do you want to-" Harry is suddenly cut off.

"Darlings! You're here! You got my invitation!" With drunken arms outstretched, David Bowie welcomes Goldie and Harry in for a group hug. They separate and David fidgets with the lapel of his gray blazer. "I am so very excited you made it. I was starting to think you wouldn't come out. Such serious boys."

"It was you that invited us!" Goldie says as they all pull away.

"I heard The Orphans were in town and I said 'I must see my darling Goldie and her white knights again.' I mean look at all of you."

"I would love to talk to you tonight if you have the time, David. Pick your brain about the festival and get some quotes for my article. The Orphans did an amazing radio show the other day about it and we-" Goldie is cut off by David's regal tone.

"Such a serious tone on such a fun night, my dear. Although I must say you sound like one helluva publicist. Networking for you and the band. I respect it. But again, tonight should be reserved for F-U-N." He spells the word and signals to a waiter who brings over a tray of shots and a tiny candy dish of pills. "Take one, dear, and you'll have all your questions answered."

Bowie uses his thumbs to open Goldie and Harry's mouths and places a small pill on each of their tongues. His four fingers close their mouths and he gently boops each other their noses with his index fingers.

"Bottoms up, lovelies." Bowie says as the other Orphans grab a pill from the tray. "Before it kicks in, I must plant a seed in that handsome head of yours," he stretches his arm around Harry's shoulders and pulls him away from the crowd. Once out of earshot, he finally asks - "Have you ever thought about hiring her?"

The night flashes before them like a blur. A blur of glitter and lights and dancing. It's as though all the problems Goldie and Harry once had were left back at their dreary hotel. Tucked away beside the tattered Bible in their nightstand.

Goldie's feet ache from her cheap shoes. She hobbles over to a nearby lounge and collapses onto the leather booth. Harry stands beside her the whole journey and kneels down at her stems to help relieve the pain.

"These pills hit me harder than I expected. You okay?" he asks, on his knees, rubbing her ankles between his thumbs and index fingers. He started the night in a full suit, buttoned to the top of his neck. Rigid. Secure. But now, the buttons are all unfastened and the sight of his sweaty chest glistening in the dark yet bright club hypnotizes her. New planets form in the crevices of his muscles and dampness of his skin. She shakes her head away from the dirty thoughts she can't help but think. Taking him back to the hotel room. Licking in between his pecs. Sliding her hand down his abs. Unfastening his belt and undoing his fly. Straddling his lap.

"I'm good..." she struggles to find her breath. "The pills are hitting me too." She uses the drugs as an excuse for her suddenly lowered inhibitions. Although she is feeling the effects of the Quaaludes, the exaggeration of their impact helps her lower her guard for the first time in weeks. She wants Harry more than anything. Right here. Right now.

"Did I tell you that you look incredible tonight?"

"Thanks, H."

"Everyone has their eyes on you, including me. Even when they're not physically on you. I see you. Under normal circumstances, I'd be jealous. But I can't blame them for keeping their eyes locked on this..."

He runs the back of his hand down her arm then trickles his fingertips up the side of her neck.

"...You're a fucking drug to me. I want to feel you in my veins. Coursing through my entire body..."

Harry places his palms on both of her knees and parts her long legs, shimmying his hips between them. He grabs her hips, still kneeling, and pulls her closer so the warmth in her core is pressed against his upper abdomen. In this moment. It's only them. Goldie sits, amazed and shocked by his words.

"...You've infiltrated my barriered brain. Softened my stone heart..."

Harry's hands slowly wander up the skirt of her dress. His thumbs play with the elastic of her panties in between her legs. Teasing her.

"...I want to breathe you in and hold you in my lungs like salty ocean air. Taste you on my lips days after having you. I want traces of you on me, in me, around me at all times..."

He slides his hands out from under her dress and brings them to her jawline. He strokes her soft skin. He imagines falling asleep with this sensation in his grasps. Drifting into slumber with the smell of her lingering in his nostrils as her head rests on his chest. Never wanting to leave her presence in the early morning as he waits to see how the sun at each period of the day accentuates the purity of her face. The dark club and loud music can't even distract him from her gravitational pull. And regardless of onlookers, Goldie wants him too.

"...You're an addiction I have no interest in giving up..."

Harry leans into kiss her lips for the first time in weeks when their moment is interrupted.

"Bravo. That should be a song." It's a distinct, deep, familiar accent.

Harry and Goldie look up to find none other than Freddie Mercury sitting beside them. His head rests on his hands, propped up by his elbows resting on the table in front of him as he gazes at the two of them.

"Mr. Mercury, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm so sorry we crashed your booth." Goldie's embarrassed by her and Harry's display of affection in front of one of their biggest idols.

"Sweetheart. It's Freddie. And no need to apologize. Please continue." Freddie pushes Goldie towards Harry and continues to admire the passion between them. "We could all get off watching the two of you. Right, Elton?"

"Absolutely." Elton John scoots closely to Harry and Goldie. They both had no idea the seat the wiggled their way into. A spot right between Freddie Mercury and Elton John. "What I'd give to be sandwiched in the middle of this sexual tension." Elton takes his newsie cap off and fans himself then places it on Harry's head. He suddenly turns into a director of their scene. "You are wearing way too much clothing, dear. Take that jacket off. Hell. Take the shirt off too," he directs Harry.

Harry hesitates for a moment before obliging Elton's request. He throws his shirt and blazer onto the ground with abandon and looks back at Goldie's adoring stare. He still kneels between her legs, like a fallen angel awaiting savior from his goddess. He clutches at the bunched fabric of her dress on her hips. He can practically feel the blood pulsate under his fingertips.

Elton and Freddie continue to spectate the romance novel taking place in front of them.

"Tell him how you feel now, love," Freddie instructs Goldie. "Go on. Remember. You're his addiction..."

"Harry... I..." Goldie struggles to find the words to respond.

"Go on, dear. We're all waiting in anticipation. I could eat you both up." Elton adjusts the cap on Harry's head. Even though they're surrounded by legends, Harry maintains eye contact with her.

"You two need to be frozen in time," a new voice chimes in. "I want to teleport you both onto a canvas and hang you above my fireplace for all of eternity. My god." It's Andy Warhol. Another legend witnessing Goldie and Harry's lust. "You could create fire with the passion between you two and I shall be your Joan of Arc tied to the stake."

Goldie looks around at the three famous men around her. Her lust for Harry is so special and intoxicating that she didn't notice the audience.

"Shush, Andy! Let the angel talk," Freddie comments, pointing to Goldie. "You were saying, doll?"

Goldie nervously looks down at Harry who's still looking at her, deep in thought. He is Romeo and this is the first time he'd seen his Juliet. Star-crossed lovers. Young and drifting in an open atmosphere awaiting semblance of connection with another. Their feelings toward one another are earth shattering, yet muted in the open universe. A perfect metaphor for the loudness of the large club.

"Harry," she whispers. "You really hurt me when you said what you said on the radio show. I forgive you though. But this..." She points to him and then to herself and then back to him. "This is so much. It's overwhelming is all. But I can't stay away from you either..."

Goldie slides off the patent leather of the seat and kneels in front of him. Linking her fingers behind his head, she brings his face to hers and kisses him hard. Without requesting any sort of permission, she slides her tongue past his lips.

"...I've missed you, Harry. And I don't want to feel that anymore. I ache for you. Dream about you..."

Harry reciprocates her kiss, wrestling his tongue against hers.

"...You make me feel complete and show me everything I've ever wanted to be. I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around you. You wrap your arms around me. Please, handsome..."

Her tight dress gathers well above her thighs, allowing her to straddle him in the middle of the corner booth in front of their heroes. But they don't care about the spectacle they're making. They continue. She drives her crotch against his, feeling his hard member against the fabric of his pants.

"... That pain that you feel down in your soul, here," Goldie presses her finger against the center of Harry's chest. "It's the same down in mine."

"Jesus help us," Freddie Mercury whispers as he watches Harry and Goldie collapse into one another. "Take him. Make him yours. Give me this." He grabs the camera from around her neck and passes it to Andy.

She doesn't think about it. She lets it happen. She feels the strap escape her neck and indulges in the feeling of Harry's body pressed against her. His hard cock pushes against her bare inner thigh. They hear the click of the camera as Andy snaps a picture of Elton and Freddie, proud directors of this beautiful moment, behind the loving couple.

Harry and Goldie continue, melting into one another. She is a hot knife and he a stick of softened butter. As they kiss and grind, Harry hears a soft whisper in his ear.

"You two are beautiful," Freddie makes mention.

Harry wraps Goldie's legs around his waist and stands, walking her to a near quiet corner. He's grabbed the camera and photo of Freddie and Elton. He knew she'd be upset if they lost track of her Polaroid. The strap is wrapped around his wrist several times and his hand grips on her ass. Her nails dig into the skin of his neck as he whisks her away to a more quiet area. They'd talk about this later, but the fact their desire for one another trumped interaction with people like Elton John,  Freddie Mercury and Andy Warhol will be a story they discuss forever.

"Fuck," Harry groans, opening the door of a closet at the side of the stage. He slams Goldie's back against the hard shelves. The pain doesn't bother her. "I need to be in you. Immediately."

"Fuck me, Harry," Goldie mumbles, biting down on his earlobe. "I've missed you so much."

Harry practically rips her panties off of her under her dress. The thin nude fabric falls to the ground as he stretches it off of her. He claws into her bare ass, her dress raises above her wide hips.

"This," Harry says, pressing his finger against her clit. "This is mine."

Goldie groans in his ear, her body quaking in response to his touch.

"I see you're ready," Harry comments, sliding his thumb against her wetness. "I want you to be this ready for me always, okay?"

Goldie moans in pleasure, digging her nails into his bare back.

"Tell me you'll always want me." Harry rubs his tip against her center, waiting for her longing. Waiting for her begging. Waiting for her forgiveness. "Tell me you'll never leave me. Please, Michelle."

"I'll never leave you," she responds.

Encouraged by her words, Harry picks Goldie up by the backs of her legs and shoves her against the door and rocks inside of her. With every thrust comes more confession.

"I will always love you."

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

"I'm complete with you."

"You're my favorite human."

"I want you with me forever."

The cold wood against her back is suddenly ripped away and she and Harry fall to the ground. Grimshaw, Jonesy, Matt, Mitch and Niall all stand around their fallen bodies on the floor. Harry's bareback and ass are exposed to the world. His pants rest at his ankles as his hips rest between her legs.

"I- I- I'm sorry." Goldie pushes Harry off of her and quickly pushes her dress down to cover herself. She frantically looks for her panties as Harry buttons his fly and stands in front of his anxious muse. "Oh my fucking god. Oh my god. Fuck. This... This was a mistake."

Goldie grabs her purse, camera and pictures and rushes out of the club. Her heart beats in her throat. All she can think about is getting away. All she wants is a soft mattress against her back and to slip into a deep escape and start a new day tomorrow.

"What the fuck, guys!" Harry yells, attempting to run after her. He's quickly stopped be the thick crowd. "MICHELLE! MICHELLE! PLEASE! STOP!" He runs his fingers through his hair. He was fighting against the tide to get to her. A piece of driftwood in the middle of a foamy oceanic war.

Harry and the guys make their way to the street to witness Goldie get into a cab.

"Please. Stay. I'm fine. This is all too much," she says, pointing to the club. "This isn't me. I'm just going back to the hotel."

"I'll go with you," Harry responds.

"No. Harry. Stay. Honestly. This is a good moment for you guys. But I need to get out of here. I'm not myself here. We'll talk when you're back."

Harry's heart drops as the cab drives away with her silhouetted head in the backseat. He wants to run as fast as he can behind the cab and follow her all the way back.

"I'm sorry. We didn't know where you guys were at. We were talking with Bowie and heard your voices in the room. We didn't know what we'd stumble into." Grimmy pats Harry on the back apologetically. "Please. Let me buy you a drink and we'll take you back as soon as possible. She needs her space right now, Harry. Let her have it."

Harry reluctantly nods his head and walks back into the club. He doesn't think she needs this space. He knows he should go after her right now. But as he looks at the faces of his bandmates, he can't deny one more drink. One more drink turns into five, eventually losing count. Desperate attempts to drown his sorrows.

Hours pass. She doodles notes in the margins of her paper and adjusts her wet, newly-showered hair against her hotel room pillow. A teardrop descends from her eye and hits the notebook paper, causing the ink to run against the faint lines.

"MICHELLE! MICHELLE!" Harry's voice yells from the outside of the hotel room door. She hears pounding against the walls. The rattling of the hallway light fixtures. "HAS ANYONE SEEN MY BELLE!? SHE'S BEAUTIFUL. LONG BLONDE HAIR. PRETTY EYES. SMELLS LIKE COCONUT AND CHERRIES. TASTES LIKE SIN AND HAPPINESS."

Goldie stands. She presses her ear against the door and looks through the peephole. Harry crouches outside the entryway.

"Harry?" she mutters her question through the thick wood and metal. She sees the rest of The Orphans trying to pick Harry up from the ground.

"Michelle. You don't understand. I love you so much," Harry sobs on his knees. She witnesses everything through the small lens of the door. "I can't find my key. Can you let me in? Please. Let's talk."

"What's going on?" She asks.

"What's going on?" Harry responds. "I need you. That's what's going on." His drunken body collapses to the ground. "I talked to Bowie, Belle. He said I'd be a fool if I let you go. And I can't think of anything but you leaving... I don't want you to leave."

Harry sobs on the ground. His bandmates attempt to pick him up but Harry refuses, aggressively pushing them away. She cracks the door open and looks out. The rest of The Orphans look at her apologetically.

"You. Look how beautiful you are." Harry lifts his head up from the rough hotel carpet. "You're crying. Princess, you're crying." Drunk Harry begins to sob more. "I hate that you're crying."

"It's okay, guys," Goldie finally says. "I got him."

She struggles to lift him from the ground and brings him into the room, throwing him on the bed.

"Only you can lift me up," Harry drunkenly says while cuddling into his pillow.

"Harry, here. Drink some water." She passes him a glass of water but he knocks it out of her hands.

"All I need is you, Belle. All I need is love." He stretches his arms out to her, begging to be cuddled.

"What happened? It's only been a few hours since I left?" She cradles Harry's head against her chest and awaits his response.

"You left. It killed me. All I wanted was to go after you but you said I shouldn't. Why don't you love me? Why is it that every person I truly love wants to leave me?"

"What? Harry, what are you talking about?"

"It's like my mum." He snuggles into the small gap between her breasts, nestling into the soft cotton of her nightgown. "She abandoned me. Like you're going to abandon me."

"Harry, I'd never abandon you..."

"You did tonight! You did after I said that stupid stupid thing on the radio show. You'll do it again once you're home. Once you see Andrew. Once you start packing up for college. You're going to leave and I'll be nothing more than an exciting story you had. A funny memory."

"Harry, why are you saying these things? Stop."

"It's true, isn't it?"

"The article will have to be published and the tour has to end. I don't know what I'm supposed to say. I don't want to leave but what if I don't have any other choice?" Tears start to bawl in her eyes at the thought of walking off the bus and never returning.

"All I want is stable love. For once." He clings to the fabric of her night gown as though she's going to fly off into space at any moment. "I've gotten so used to having you here. Having you fill this giant hole I have in my heart. I'm not ready to let it go. I don't want to spend my days searching the earth for this feeling. Especially because I know I can only get it from you. When we make love, we make love. Do you understand that? We generate something that's bigger than us."

Goldie starts to cry in response to his words. "Harry... you're tired. Please. Don't talk like this right now. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." She leans down and kisses his forehead.

"Do that again. Please."

She kisses him again in the same spot as before. "There. Now sleep, okay?"

"Promise you won't leave me?"

"Promise. Now shut your eyes. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay..." Harry's eyes flutter open and look at her. "Looking at you is like the sun rising every day. You bring me hope, Belle."

"You bring me hope too, Harry. More than you know."

"I hope you love me as much as I love you. I'll dream about you." He grabs the hem of her nightgown and buries his head in her chest. She watches as his tight grasp loosens as he drifts off to sleep.

"I love you more," she whispers.

* * *

Author's Note:

Thank you again for joining Goldie and Harry on their journey. We're two chapters away from the end of the tour, but we promise we still have some extra surprises for you. Maybe their journey doesn't end there? Also, there is still time to be part of the final edit we're making. All you have to do is DM us "❤️" as the message, we want to make sure to include every single one of you.

And on a side note, remember to follow us on Instagram @ fbgfanfic, we're always posting our own Harry designs and edits, as well as sneak peaks into upcoming chapters. We even posted our Andy Warhol/Harry Styles design a bit ago that seemed appropriate to share in this chapter.

Stay golden, all of you beautiful people.

Love,
Fat Bottomed Girls