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ifancyharry · 1 year

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The Instagram poll

What it is: YN feels anxious about her interview with Nick Grimshaw, when she tries to tell Harry, they fight; angst to fluff

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YN was pacing around her and Harry’s bedroom when she got Nick’s text, her phone already unlocked and opened on Nick’s Instagram account.

‘They chose you!! Told ya Xx’

Followed by another one with the details of their soon to happen encounter. She felt her heart fall into her stomach.

When she had joked that no one would want to see her on his BBC Radio program, she certainly didn’t expect Nick’s followers to vote for her on the ‘which guest would you like on the radio’ poll Nick had posted on his Instagram Stories.

It wasn’t a secret, who she was, and in the time of social media, where anyone knew everything about anyone, articles started to come pretty fast when she was first seen with Harry, and in less than an hour, her entire life was published on the Daily Mail. Her college major, her school’s annuary picture, her parents’ names, everything in the open for anyone to read.

Harry had obviously contacted the gossip magazine, threatening to sue if they didn’t remove the article, but YN had to remind him people could have already screenshotted it and started sharing it online.

It’s not like YN was naive, she knew who Harry was when they first started dating, and she debated a long time whether he was worth it — turns out, he was. The only thing she didn’t realize is how obsessive people can get with his partners. She really thought no one would care about her! Why would they want to know her mum’s name? She still couldn’t get an answer to that, two years in her relationship with Harry.

When Nick told her Harry’s fans were invading his dms, requesting him to bring YN on his program, YN had laughed in disbelief.

“You don’t believe me?!” Nick had shouted, a little bit wine tipsy, “i’ll prove it to you.”

She had shrugged at his words and didn’t think much about it for the rest of the evening, enjoying her time with her boyfriend and his friends.

It was only the day after — still tangled in the silky sheets, half awake and with Harry sleeping soundly next to her — that she realized Nick was serious; he had posted an Instagram story with a picture of her along with two other pics of two influencers (she remembers their names were Alix Earle and Emelie Lindmark), with the poll ‘which guest would you like on the radio?’, followed by their names. She had chuckled a bit through her nose, quietly trying not to wake Harry, and voted for @emitaz, confident that no one in their right mind would choose her. She started to panic when, after voting, Instagram showed the percentage next to the respective names, her already being at 67% this early in the day.

She checked the poll all day, almost every hour, to see if something would change, snapping at her phone like a maniac when the number only seemed to increase.

When she had told Harry, she thought he’d get upset, but he’d just laughed and kissed her forehead, mumbling something about how if he’d known he would’ve bet with Nick on the results. She felt defeated. If she’s being honest, she’d hoped Harry would get mad, because then she’d have a reason not to go along with it. She’d just tell Nick Harry thought it wasn’t a good idea and she knows he’d never question his friend.

But Harry had laughed. He had laughed! Obviously unaware of the turmoil that was happening inside her head from the moment she checked her Instagram that morning.

That’s why, after receiving his text, she had texted him back agreeing on meeting.

Sometimes YN doesn’t know why she’s like this. She clearly didn’t want to do it, why would she agree anyway? Why wouldn’t she speak out on something she wasn’t comfortable doing? She doesn’t know why she needs a reason to decline. She could just own up to her decision and tell Nick she didn’t feel like doing it. But now she had agreed! So she basically was forced to do it, because she knew as soon as she texted him back, he had everything set with the radio.

So she tries to go on with her day without thinking too much about it. They scheduled her appearance for the beginning of the next week, so she had a couple of days to pretend she didn’t have to go.

Pretending actually came pretty easy to her, because if she pretended it didn’t happen, her anxiety subsided, and when she felt that familiar gut wrenching feeling, she’d just push it down reminding herself she still had a week to prepare.

The problem with pretending is that when the night before arrives, you can’t pretend anymore, and all those feelings you put aside, are pushing down on your chest like a weight impossible to ignore, because, sadly, anxiety demands to be felt, and pretending to be fine doesn’t do it any good.

So YN, trying to take big breaths to calm down the ache she felt in her chest, hurried down the stairs, her socked feet moving fast against the floor.

When she walked in the kitchen, she spotted Harry cutting some tomatoes on the cutting board, humming happily a song she couldn’t quite make out.

“Hey baby!” He smiled once he raised his eyes from the board, “dinner is almost ready.”

YN nodded her head but didn’t move from her position on the doorframe, her legs suddenly feeling heavy and her head swarmed with words she dreaded to say.

“Harry…” she whispered, her eyes falling down to her feet avoiding his, “i don’t think I can go tomorrow”

She blew out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, but the heavy weight on her chest was still there, a cruel reminder of her carelessness, because despite feeling a little better when the words came out of her mouth, she knew Harry would be disappointed in her; he hated when people would cancel last minute. He thought it was unprofessional, and in his many years of career, he had always tried to do his best to show up, even if that meant singing with a sore throat or doing an interview with a headache.

YN, however, was different. She liked to prioritize her mental health, and if that meant appearing rude, so be it, she’d stress out over it for a while, but then she’d feel a lot better for not going. This time, though, things were a little more complicated, because Nick was Harry’s friend, and she didn’t want to cause problems between them. Plus, she really cared about Harry’s opinion of her, and she didn’t want to disappoint him, but at the end of the day, she still didn’t feel like going, so she really felt conflicted.

“Baby… c’mon!” He said, dropping the smile from his face and blowing out an annoyed sigh, “You always do this!”

“I know, Harry, I just… I don’t feel good about going” she shook her head, chewing on her bottom lip nervously.

“YN.” He scolded her, his tone stern, “you should’ve thought about that before agreeing.”

YN furrowed her brows, her anger rising with every word that came out of his mouth. She knew he had a point, but it’s not like she could control her anxiety! She still doesn’t know why she agreed, and communicating is difficult when you don’t know the motive behind your actions in the first place.

“It’s not my fault I have anxiety” she snapped, her eyes glancing up to meet his.

“Don’t twist my words! I never said that”

She knew she was being unfair, and she felt guilty about using her anxiety against him, but she wanted him to understand her without necessarily having to speak about it.

“I’m not going” she repeated, but her voice wasn’t firm and her words sounded unconvincing.

“You’re being childish about this” he said, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Why are you being like this!” She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms against her chest.

“Like what?” He questioned, and at this point he felt exasperated. It wasn’t the first time YN canceled last minute on something she had agreed upon days prior, and he felt frustrated because he couldn’t make her understand how rude and disrespectful she came out to be.

He didn’t want to force her to go, of course, and he knew anxiety could be tricky with things like this, he just wanted her to speak her mind before agreeing on something just because she felt bad about declining an invite.

“Like this!” She gestured with her hand toward him, keeping the other arm around her waist “i want you to see where I’m coming from”

“I see where you’re coming from, and I understand you feel anxious. But you committed to this!” He said, this time his tone had softened and his words came sweetly out of his mouth, and in a way he hoped to reassure her with his body language, losing the furrow of his brows and taking a step toward her, not before drying his hands on the apron tied around his waist.

“I can come with you. I’ll ask Nick to be there when you do the interview, it won’t be a problem. It will be over before you know it! And then we can do whatever you want! We can call that sushi place you like and order everything off the menu, mmh?”

His offering really seemed convincing, and YN felt her tummy get warm at the thought of eating her favorite food in bed with Harry and maybe watch a movie or just cuddle, but after these wonderful and heartwarming thoughts, came the dark and cold thought of the dreaded interview, and what she had to endure before she could really go home and enjoy her time with her boyfriend.

“Why aren’t you listening to me!” She yelled, her eyes beginning to sting with angry tears.

“Baby…” he said, still trying to maintain his softness with her, hoping it would help her nervous state.

“Fine, you want to force me to go, I’ll go. But you’re sleeping on the couch then.” And with that last threat, she turned her back to him and walked out of the kitchen, a pout closing her lips and her arms still crossed against her chest.

When she reached her bedroom she closed the door loudly behind her and walked to the bathroom to do her routine before bed, ignoring the grumbling coming from her hungry stomach and trying not to think too much about what Harry was making for dinner.

She felt bad he had to sleep on the couch, but not mad enough to go downstairs and apologize. She still thought what she said, and she still looked for some understanding from him, because she thought at least her boyfriend would be on her side, and she felt not supported when he wasn’t.

Despite her angry thoughts, she felt the weight in her chest lifting a bit at the thought of Harry being there with her, and when she played in her mind how the interview would go, she felt, upon a big, dark cloud surrounding Nick’s studio, a little ray of rushing shining on her boyfriend, who would be waiting for her on the side. That mere thought made it possible for YN to fall asleep after a while, her dreams invaded by shiny green eyes and curly brown hair.

. . .

“Are you ready?” Nick asked her from his chair on the other side of the table, in front of him a big microphone hanging from the ceiling, aligned with his mouth.

“Yes” she nodded, speaking nervously into the microphone’s head. Her eyes shifted to find Harry in the room, and when she found him, she quickly glanced back to Nick, realizing Harry was already watching her.

YN still hadn’t apologized, and the car ride that morning had been silent. She felt safe at the thought of Harry being in the room with her, but not safe enough to be happy and feel completely relaxed about going.

When they’d arrived — a bit late because of her funny, anxious tummy —, she was hurried in a chair, the blouse she was requested to wear for easier access, opened hurriedly, and an elderly doctor asked her permission to put the adhesive cups on her chest, right above her bra.

She had blushed a little but nodded either way, looking the other way, the doctor’s cold hands leaving goosebumps everywhere she touched.

She wanted Harry by her side, and she looked toward him with pleading eyes, an uncomfortable grimace adoring her features. He had walked slowly towards her, excusing himself from the conversation he was in, and in no time he was next to her, shielding her exposed skin from indiscreet eyes. No one was looking at her, actually, and she knew that, but his presence put her mind to rest, and she focused on how his lips moved every time he would open his mouth to talk, conversing with the doctor about how ticklish the suction cups were the last time he did it and how Nick hadn’t been has gentle when it was his turn.

“Okay, YN” Nick smiled reassuringly at her, “i’m going to show you some pictures and we’ll watch how your heart will react”

YN nodded her head without saying anything, chewing on her bottom lip nervously. She glanced at the heart monitor beside her, beeping loudly and constantly, her heart rate already quickening a bit because of her anxiety.

Nick grabbed the picture from his desk and showed it to her, “mmh, a big chunk of money” he laughed, his eyes shifting immediately from the picture to the heart monitor, which stayed the same.

“No change” he pointed out, raising his eyebrows at her.

“Don’t care about money” she shrugged, smiling at him.

She was in a way thankful Nick had showed her that picture, because at least the allegations of her being a gold digger and staying with Harry only for his money could be disputed.

“Okay, moving on we have…” he dragged the end of the last word, picking up the next picture quickly. Before he could say what the picture was, YN smiled and said excitedly “a kitten!”

The picture depicted a small black cat, sleeping soundly on its back, its big, milk-full belly in display, a pale rose color.

“So cute” she squealed, and she heard Nick laugh at her.

“Look at that!” He pointed to the heart monitor, her heart rate picking up a bit, going from 70 to 75 gradually, “she likes kittens” Nick winked towards the camera, speaking in the microphone.

“I do” YN nodded, feeling a little more at ease in her surroundings.

Nick showed her two other pictures, one of Zayn Malik, to which she had blushed (but her heart stayed the same), and another one of a Big Mc, and this time it was her stomach that grumbled, still empty from the night before, her heart beat increasing slightly.

“Okay!” Nick smirked, “last picture”, he said, picking up the cardboard picture and looking at it first without showing it to her.

He then raised it a bit and showed it to the camera behind him.

“Show me alreadyyyy Nicky!!” She whined, giggling.

Nick shrugged and turned the picture towards her, smiling a sly smile once he saw the blush creep on her warm cheeks.

YN cleared her throat and squinted her eyes to look better at the picture, but she knew that photo of Harry all too well… she was the one who’d taken it.

It was right after his performance in Rio, and he had been teasing the fans about his Brasil! tattoo all night, but never actually showed it. So, while he was getting undressed, YN had snapped a quick pic of him, his pants half opened, his tattoo peaking out on his upper thigh, right before the zipper of the sparkly material. He looked like an angel, and YN had sent him the photo, which he posted immediately.

“That’s Harry!” She blushed, trying not to focus on the sound of the heart monitor machine beeping loudly and filling the embarrassing silence, her heart beating faster with every glance she took at the photo.

“I know that’s Harry…” Nick smiled mischievously, “and who is Harry to you?”

YN could swear her face was as red as the tomatoes Harry was cutting the day the fought, and she felt herself shifting on the chair uncomfortably, her nails picking at the skin of her thumb under the table. It’s not like people didn’t know he was her boyfriend, but she always feared how his fans would react to that.

“He’s my boyfriend” she whispered, her face flustered.

“Look at that heart!” Nick laughed, pointing once again at the monitor. Yn wanted to scoff, it’s not like he had to point it out, everyone could hear the incessant beeping of the machine, her heart rate going from 70 to 100 under everyone’s creeping eyes.

Her gaze shifted to Harry quickly, and she relaxed in her seat once she saw him chuckling under his breath, his dimples adorning his smile.

“Okay, everyone! Let’s take a little break” Nick said after a while, and she heard one of the crew members signaling that they stopped filming and that the radio would be blasting music in the small break between recordings.

“That was hilarious” Nick laughed once again, getting up from his chair and pointing towards YN.

“You set me up!” She giggled, still embarrassed from what her own heart had done.

“Blame yourself honey” he replied, throwing her a flying kiss.

YN rolled her eyes playfully and waited for the doctor to remove the adhesive patches.

Once she was free from the pads, she walked towards Harry, who was waiting for her with his arms crossed against his chest, leaning against the wall adjacent of where she was sitting.

When she reached him, her head was low and she avoided his gaze on purpose, not knowing where they were standing, with the way she had acted the day before and especially because she had confirmed their relationship without consulting him first.

The room was almost empty now, Nick and his coworkers taking advantage of the break to eat lunch or smoke a cigarette.

She took his arms in her hands and uncrossed them, circling her waist with them. She then snuggled her head against his chest and hugged her own arms around his waist, breathing in the comforting scent of his body wash.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you…” she whispered, her cheek squished against his chest.

“You didn’t” he shrugged, engulfing her lower back in a hug and squeezing her more against his body, “i’m really proud of being your boyfriend” he said, placing a loud kiss against her hairline.

She lingered in his hug for a moment longer, finding comfort in his warm embrace, and then spoke again, “and I’m sorry if I got angry… I… it’s hard sometimes” she mumbled.

She heard him hum and his chest vibrated against her cheek, the beating of his heart lulling her “i know.” He said, firmly, “never again, you hear me?”

He waited for her to nod before continuing, “we never go to bed angry, we always talk it out, okay?”

“Never again” she agreed, because despite being angry with him, she still missed him, and she hated wasting time being angry at him, because it truly was a waste of time. She loved him, and she knew he loved her, so instead of fighting, she should’ve been more open about her feelings, she knew he would’ve understood.

“And I’m never sleeping on the couch again, okay?” He said seriously, to which YN laughed, squeezing his waist tighter.

“Never again” she repeated, placing a kiss against his heart.

“Now… — he averted his torso a bit in her hold, uncrossing his arms from behind her lower back and bringing his hands between them, to button the top of her blouse that she had forgotten to close — let’s go home, hum?” He tugged at the collar of her blouse and then lowered his head to whisper the next part in her ear, “that thing you did with your heart turned me on”, he said, sealing his words with a wet kiss against the shell of her ear.

YN laughed loudly at his words, throwing her head back and then swatting his chest jokingly, “Harry!”

#harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harrystyles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles love on tour #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #nick grimshaw

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twelvegrimmyplace · 5 months

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Nick Grimshaw on kindness, queerness and life lessons as a grown-up.

Gay Times Honours Issue 2023

Friendly media mogul Nick Grimshaw, aka Grimmy, has done it all. He’s introduced his parents to Lady Gaga and, recently, even had tea with Harry Styles. Now, however, the former Radio 1 DJ is getting acquainted with something else – growing up.

Getting older, no doubt, is terrifying. Carefree late nights with mates at sticky, flooded gigs are suddenly swapped for questions revolving around major milestones: partners, career, and, of course, kids. Close friends are no longer egging you on to ditch work and hangout or checking in to see if you’ve actually drank water. Instead, you’re trying to squeeze in a meetup between deadlines, dates and an ever-growing to-do list of life admin. And Grimmy is no different. Booze-driven afterparties have morphed into nourishing Sunday roast dinners with Mesh, his fiancé. Girl dinner Quaver packets have matured to conversations – on his glitzy new foodie podcast Dish co-hosted by Michelin-star chef Angela Hartnett – with Miriam Margolyes on how she likes her mashed potatoes.

Having the big four-zero on the radar prompted a new perspective for the presenter. What was once maligned (“I felt like growing older was the end of something or deeply depressing,” Grimshaw admits) has been, mostly, embraced. It’s less coming of age but, rather, coming to age. Still, new digits doesn’t need to mean the fun is over. In fact, just last night, Grimshaw partied late with celebs Jake Shears, Amanda Lepore, Jodie Harsh, and Mutya Buena in Soho. Here in Holborn, however, things are much more mild. Sure, there’s some tasteful framed nude art to our right and Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ crackling over studio speakers but nothing beats a good old-fashioned launch party, or a karaoke b-day bash taking place later this evening in central London.

Nursing a non-alcoholic beer, Grimshaw scoots across a black leather couch, arriving fresh from a photoshoot, something he describes as his “Naomi Campbell moment”. Comfortably clothed in a light-wash denim shirt and distressed jeans, he kicks off the conversation as if reuniting with an old friend. “I've never taken stock before. I'd never sat down and thought about myself, ever, and I don't think people do,” he says. Since his early twenties, Grimshaw’s image has been inextricably tied to two things: big names and his infamous towering quiff haircut. At some point, he acknowledges, you will have heard his quick-fire Mancunian comedy soundtracking your early mornings. Whether he was making jokes with Taylor Swift or having the early hours crashed by Charli XCX, the presenter became a known face at the Beeb. In his autobiographical book, Soft Lad, Grimshaw reminisces on the pull the small screen had on him as a young child. Armed with a love for glamour and theatrics, the events he saw on the telly called to a younger Grimshaw who dreamed of moving out of Manchester to take on London.

Onboarding, in 2012, at Radio 1 to cover The Breakfast Show was something the podcaster remembers clearly; “There was a lot of pressure”. His days of spinning songs and connecting with artists over music became more than a vocation, but a specialism. While he does admit, sheepishly, that there were days his hangover ran over into work hours, he’s since taken time to reassess his habits and lifestyle. “When I was 23 I was getting absolutely wasted and doing it like a Geordie Shore night out,” he says. Now, Grimshaw is more conscious of being selectively sober in certain environments. “It can be really hard to go out and connect with people who are drunk and you're not drinking. But, sometimes, you have the best nights ever. I went out last night and went to a really fun party up until 1.30 am and had really good chats with loads of people.” He’s taking stock of the bigger moments around him, particularly ones that bring him closer to friends and family – “It's about learning. It's about growth,” he says earnestly.

At 39, Grimshaw’s longevity has something to do with his candour and bonhomie. The most common compliment doled out about the presenter is his warmth. As a child, he recalls, the label “soft lad” was stuck to him, presenting his sensitivity as something to be ashamed of. But, years later, it’s become something – like his favourite Maison Margiela knit sweaters – that he wears openly. “At school, I always felt on edge that I was going to get beaten up or laughed at. When you've had that, you learn empathy and you think about how people might feel or what they're going through,” he explains.

Realisng he was gay, as a child, filled Grimshaw with dread as he feared what it would mean. With limited queer culture references growing up (just Elton John and Lily Savage) his feelings were fully realised, aged 11, when he developed a crush on a poster of England footballer David Beckham pinned up on his bedroom wall. “You know what’s funny, not that I’m doing Miriam Margolyes press, but I saw her yesterday. I'd never met her and I went into her dressing room. Before I could say hello, she pointed and exclaimed: ‘You’re gay!’ and continued with ‘So, my dear, nice to meet you.’ As I got into bed last night, I thought about how that would’ve killed me if I was a teenager, but it was a really lovely bonding moment.”

Though being a presenter and DJ took up most of Grimshaw’s early adolescent years, his move to writing has allowed him the space to trawl through his past years without expectation. From reassessing his comfort with queerness to realising the strength found in the LGBTQIA+ community outside of his town in Greater Manchester, Grimshaw is grateful for the relationships he’s built with those around him. “I learn constantly from the queer community. It’s that notion of being yourself and leaning into yourself which can be hard to do if you're queer, especially if you've had that knocked out of you when you're a kid,” he says. “The community are essential in helping everyone, and me, support one another.”

Soft Lad and Dish capture different versions of Grimshaw; the quirky characteristics of a presenter that couldn’t surface in a music hotbed. In his new roles, the presenter-meets-podcaster chats to hot-shot talent while unravelling stories centred around food, famous friends and frenzied stories. His book is an homage to his parents (“I realised how important they were shaping me – I love them contractually, but also really love them) and to his English and Irish roots. Bookended between stories of queer curiosity and his loathing for football, tales of community and camaraderie at Radio 1 surface. “I loved it when we had a great guest from the queer community. I had great times with Sam Smith, they would be a riot and would really gossip with us when the records were on and tell us stories that we couldn't have on the radio. Troye Sivan was a great time as well,” he recalls.

Another memorable moment was his run-in with an early-era Lady Gaga, in Notting Hill, before she became Mother Monster as we now know her. “I did my first interview with Gaga years ago, for the telly, and it was when she was brand new. ‘Just Dance’ had just come out in America and she was making a bra out of gaffer tape on a dressing room floor,” he says, laughing. “I brought mum and dad along because they were in town so they met her right at the beginning of her career. Ever since then, whenever she'd come onto the radio show, she’d ask about my mum and dad.”

Grimshaw’s stories of famous crossovers are, understandably, endless – even if they’re ones he’s told plenty of times before. Up until recently, he’s remained embroiled in an ecosystem of music promoting a “product” but, now, he feels like his new projects allow for authentic conversations about people and their interests. His mantra, nowadays, is this: “Living in the full, truest form of yourself, without fear and judgement.” For a young Grimshaw, this unbridled queer joy took the form of “glamorous” drag shows where he dressed up as Cher for his family. Today, it’s about cooking in a kitchen packed with too many guests (and remembering to drink water). Turning 40, at one point, felt like a frightening due date. Now it’s a milestone Grimshaw is ready to take on.

#nick grimshaw #press #gay times honours 2023

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