Work Text:
Harry is driving home from Shabbat dinner at Ben’s when he finds himself in Hollywood. He isn’t quite sure why, it’s kind of out of his way. But when he looks up and sees Niall, 30 feet tall and lit up against the night sky, he realises something has pulled him there like a magnet, and everything comes back to him.
It’s late, Jeff is probably asleep, but he still answers after only one ring.
“Hey man, what’s up?” Jeff asks sleepily.
“Mate, could you come down to Hollywood, to take a photo for me?” Harry asks.
“Huh?” Jeff responds, although he should be used to Harry's unusual requests by now.
“Please, I need a photo of me with Niall’s billboard, to send to him,” Harry says.
“Just take a fucking selfie, H,” Jeff says with mild exasperation, but 20 minutes later he’s pulling up behind Harry’s Audi, parked just up from the corner of Hollywood & Vine.
At this hour there aren’t many people around, just a few drunks and hookers and homeless people, no one who’ll notice them. So Harry takes his time setting up the shot, testing the angles and making sure it’s framed perfectly.
When Jeff snaps the picture it comes out exactly how Harry wanted it: hands plunged into the pockets of the coat he is inexplicably wearing (nobody needs to wear a Saint Laurent coat in LA in October, but it suits Harry’s mood), head tilted up to look at the billboard, a look on his face of naked awe and pride and admiration for Niall and all that he has achieved. And maybe just a hint of sadness, that Niall is doing this all alone, without anyone by his side to calm his nerves and tell him he’s got this, that he’s going to be great, that he’s going to be loved.
Harry takes the phone from Jeff and checks the photo, a soft smile on his face, before clicking it closed and slipping it into his coat pocket.
“You’re not going to send it to him now?” Jeff asks.
“Nah, I’ll wait ‘til the morning,” Harry says with a small shake of his head.
Except he doesn’t send it in the morning. Or later that day. Or ever.
He wants to tell him everything, words he never got to say the first time around. But it’s hard. It’s so hard. Maybe he’ll write a song about it.