Chapter 34. Elevated Tension

                                    

                                          
[July 20th]
The elevator doors slide open, and I find Harry already inside, leaning against the mirrored wall, coffee cup in hand. He looks up as I step in, his eyes lighting up with that familiar spark that always manages to throw me off guard.
"Morning, love" he says, his voice warm, still tinged with sleep. He's dressed casually—a simple black t-shirt, slightly rumpled, as if he barely got out of bed in time.
"Morning," I reply, pressing the button for the top floor. The elevator hums to life, and for a moment, it's just the two of us in the quiet, enclosed space.
Harry watches me over the rim of his coffee cup, a slight smirk pulling at his lips. "Ready for the big meeting?"
I shrug, trying to play it cool. "As ready as I'll ever be."
He laughs softly, and it's almost infuriating how relaxed he seems. "Just remember, it's your music. You're in control."
His words catch me off guard. There's something reassuring in his tone, like he's not just giving me advice but handing me confidence. My stomach does this tiny flip, and I suddenly feel self-conscious under his gaze.
"Thanks," I say, glancing down at the notes clutched in my hand. "It's just... hard to think straight with everyone there watching me."
His smile softens, and he takes a small step closer, his shoulder brushing against mine. "Then focus on me." His voice is low, almost teasing. "Forget about everyone else. Just look at me."
The words are simple, but somehow, they hit deeper than they should. My breath hitches, and I manage a nod, looking away before he can see the effect he has on me. But even then, I feel his eyes on me, steady and patient, waiting for a reaction I'm not sure I can give him.
The elevator slows, and we arrive at our floor. Harry steps back, gesturing for me to go first. I walk ahead, but I can feel him right behind me, close enough to feel his presence but keeping that slight distance between us, the same way we always do.
As we reach the conference room, he leans in, voice barely above a whisper. "Just remember, Noa, you're the one in the spotlight. Own it."
With one last look, he walks past me into the room, taking his seat at the table, all traces of that private moment gone. But his words linger, giving me that tiny bit of courage I needed.
-
I sit at the long conference table, sunlight streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the room in a golden light. My stomach flutters with nerves as I glance around at my team. There's my manager, always precise and detail-oriented; my PR rep, who never misses a beat with her sharp remarks; and my tour manager, perpetually sipping from his coffee cup. Across from me, Harry sits back in his chair, effortlessly relaxed, and somehow that makes my heart beat a little faster.
"Alright, let's get started," my manager says, flipping through her notes with that practiced efficiency she's known for. "We need to finalize the timeline for Noa's album release. We're aiming for two months from now. But first, we need to address the Noa-and-Harry situation. We can't have people thinking Noa's success is only because of him."
Harry's publicist adjusts her glasses, her expression serious. "With Harry's tour kicking off next month, we need to focus on the music and avoid feeding any tabloid rumors about their relationship."
My manager leans forward. "I think it's crucial to keep the spotlight on you, Noa—on your artistry. We should plan events that put you center stage. Maybe small, intimate performances or exclusive listening parties. It's about making sure you stand on your own."