"Check your emails again to see if it's come through," Harry asked, biting his nails as his eyes darted nervously from Wednesday to the phone in her hand.

She looked to him with a tight gaze, sucking her lips in as she tried to keep calm.

"Harry, I love you, but you need to relax," she said pointedly. "You're stressing me out. Plus, I checked them literally a minute ago."

Despite her words, she pulled up the emails with a tight knot in her stomach. Still nothing. Breathing out, she placed her phone onto the vanity in front of her and pulled her legs to her chest, biting her inner cheek.

"You're right, I'm sorry," he said to the side of her in the other chair, elbows rested on his knees as he looked to her in the well-lit room. "I think I'm more nervous than you to find out."

A soft smile came up onto her lips as she reached out her hand for him to hold, weaving her fingers into his.

"It's fine. It's actually quite cute, watching you be the anxious one for once," she said, scrunching her nose up at the clamminess of his fingers. "Whatever happens, happens."

"I know, but that's what scary," he said, biting his lip. "Also, I know my hands are clammy, sorry."

Quickly rubbing his hand on his joggers, he sat back and watched her through the mirror opposite as her hair was styled. Michael Jackson played from the speaker his phone was connected to, a special choice for a special night.

Her night.

"Now that's a sight I've missed," Sarah's voice cut through the air as she entered the room moments later, followed behind by Mitch. "Wednesday Green sat in the stylist chair, getting her hair and makeup done. It can only mean one thing."

Grinning at them through the mirror, Wednesday felt the palpable excitement in the room. There was also most definitely a nervous energy lingering too, but she'd had a shot of vodka and enough CBD oil to temporarily combat that issue.

"You excited?" Mitch asked, one side of his lips curved in a smile.

"Yeah, I really am. Nervous as fuck too, but I reckon that's just the 9 month long build up," she replied.

"You probably have double the nerves today, I imagine?" Sarah asked, looking to the phone laid face down on the table. "Heard anything yet?"

"No, not yet. If the email doesn't come through soon though, someone's going to need to take Harry on a calming walk around the arena to clear his mind. Possibly feed him a sedative too. He's on the ropes more than me."

"Well sorry for caring about your future," he mumbled, rolling his eyes and making her grin.

"I know, I'm only joking baby," she assured, looping her little finger around his and squeezing as she looked back to the others. "I'm trying not to think about it too much, with tonight too. There's no point worrying over something you can't control."

"Spoken like a true self-care queen," Sarah replied, a grin curling onto her lips. Looking to Harry, she pointed a stern finger. "You, stop stressing her out. Go and get some fresh air or something. Your nails have been practically bitten down to the nub."

"Come on man, we can go get those last slices of cake from the canteen," Mitch piped up, already nearly backing away towards the door at the thought of the dessert.

"But—" Harry began to argue, swiftly cut off by Sarah.

"No buts. Hop a long now."

Looking back to Wednesday who could only sit silently in amusement, he huffed out his defeat and stood up.

"You'll let me know if anything comes through?" he asked down to her.

"I promise," she nodded.

"Fine," he replied, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of her head before turning to meet Mitch. "What type of cake is it?"

Their voices trailed out of the room, followed by the door shutting behind them. Sarah took the seat Harry had previously sat in, swinging her legs over the chair edge.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, tilting her head as she tried to gage her weirdly neutral demeanour.

"Honestly? Not a lot," Wednesday laughed as the stylist behind continued to style her hair. "Like I'm really nervous and excited, but apart from that my mind has gone blank. Probably its own way of handling the madness of today."

"It's unfortunate they're both coinciding on the same day," Sarah mused. "But, I can't hide the fact that I'm ecstatic about you being back. It's not felt the same without you."

Wednesday grinned, wrapping her arms around her legs. "I'm so glad to be back. It's weird, I feel like I've come back a different person. But then, everything is exactly the same?"

Sarah laughed, tapping her foot against the chair lightly. "That's because you are a different person. No-one's the same as they were a year ago. It's just more apparent for you because you haven't been doing this in all of that time."

"I guess so," she said, nervously breathing out. "If I screw up tonight though, just pretend I didn't. Two weeks of rehearsals to catch up on the set might have been extreme wishful thinking."

"You won't screw up," Sarah laughed, shaking her head.

"How do you know?" Wednesday said, equally as amused.

"Because," she shrugged, crossing her arms. "You're you, and you're the most talented, professional musician I know. Not to mention a bit of a perfectionist."

Wednesday was just about to argue that she wasn't, when the phone beeped on the table, stealing both of their attention away.

Swallowing back her words, she didn't move a muscle, the jolt of anxiety that the sound sent through her paralysing her to the spot as she stared at the phone.

"Well don't leave me hanging here!" Sarah said when she didn't move, nodding at the phone. "Is it the email or not?"

Pulled from her frozen state, she reached across to the table and gingerly picked up the phone, waiting to see the notification. Her eyes widened as she saw that it was an email. In fact, it was the exact one she'd been waiting for all day.

She looked back up to Sarah as she held the phone to her chest, her entire body feeling like nervous electricity was flowing through her blood, igniting every nerve.

"It's them. It's the university."

Sarah squealed, clapping her hands together in excitement as she pulled her leg under her.

"Well read it then!"

Wednesday looked to her, then the door nervously, biding her time.

"Should I—do you think I should go and get Harry?"

"No! You can tell him right after whether it's bad or good, but you need to actually open it first to find out!"

"Okay, okay," she replied, biting her lip as she looked down to the notification.

She swiped to open it and waited for the screen to load with furrowed brows. When it appeared a moment later, she took a deep breath and began reading, a ball of nauseous energy slowly rising up her oesophagus. Her eyes trailed over the words, taking all of it in before swallowing and looking back up at Sarah.

"Well?" she asked with a tense expression, looking down to the phone. "What does it say?"

Wednesday's eyes went back to the words of the email, and without thought, she began to read aloud.

"Dear Miss Green. Thank you for your recent application to the Open University. We are delighted to offer you a position on the Music BA Undergraduate degree programme commencing in January 2021. We look forward to seeing you." She looked up with a rapidly widening smile. "I got in!"

Excitedly clapping and squealing, Sarah jumped up from the seat and wrapped her arms around her head as even the stylist shared her congratulations. Wednesday laughed into her hold, feeling overwhelmed with a slice of relief and a hell of a lot of pride for herself.

"Well done girl! I knew you'd get in, you're too clever not to!" Sarah said excitedly, stepping back to smile down at her.

"I can't believe it," Wednesday said dazedly. "I'm actually going to university to get a degree. I'm going to be a student."

"Because they saw how clever and hardworking you are!" Sarah replied, her eyes beaming with joy. "Are you excited?"

Wednesday looked to her, a toothy smile across her face. "I actually really am. I know going to uni isn't as big of a deal at 26, but this feels like something to be proud of."

"That's because it is! And nonsense about it not being a big deal just because you're not 18. Going to uni is always a major life event—age doesn't factor in!" Sarah said frankly.

Looking back down to the email, her eyes glossed over at the words she'd been waiting to read for weeks. The words as time had gone on she wasn't sure she'd ever read. But it was there, in her email box, clear as day.

She had been accepted into university, and she'd achieved it completely on her own.

"I'm just excited that I have this thing that's mine. Does that make sense?" she asked.

Sarah nodded, smiling proudly. "That makes complete sense. I can't believe that eventually you're going to be Wednesday Green, Bachelor of the Arts. Try and remember me when you're on University Challenge hanging out with the other smart people."

"Shut up," Wednesday chuckled, unable to wipe the smile from her face. Remembering something, she looked up quickly. "I should probably go and find Harry. He'll already kill me for not waiting to open it when he was here."

"You are more than welcome to place the blame on me," Sarah shrugged, sitting back into the chair. "Excitement got the better of me, what can I say. He'll have to deal with it."

Stepping out of the chair with a laugh, Wednesday mouthed her apologies to the stylist and promised she'd be back in a minute before leaving the room. Strolling down the white hallways that were abuzz with anticipation and preparation, her head turned into every room, looking for a sign of Harry.

As she came to a crowded bright room, seeing the crew dishing up food, she noticed Harry and Mitch stood by the table with a plate in hand. He was talking animatedly, grinning as he spooned a piece of cake into his mouth and suddenly, Wednesday got a rush of anxiety about telling him.

Stepping into the doorway, she waved her hand to get his attention. When he looked to her, suddenly noticing her presence, she held up her phone screen with a wide smile. Instantly, his eyes widened, and he chewed the cake as fast as possible before mouthing to her, "is it the email?"

As soon as she nodded excitedly, he put the plate down and rushed over to her, apologising as he weaved himself through the array of seated chairs until he finally came to stand in front of her expectantly.

Holding the phone behind her back, she bit her lip with an excited expression.

"Okay, so don't get annoyed, but I mightttt have opened the email already because I was too excited to wait." She noticed Harry's face drop as he prepared to say something, but she cut him off by placing a finger to his lips. "But, what I'm about to say might make it better...I got in!"

"I knew you would!" Harry said, immediately forgetting about the first point and moving towards her.

He wrapped his arms around her waist tightly and lifted her from the floor before she could argue, spinning her round to elicit laughs from deep within her. There were people from the crew staring, wondering what they were both so excited for, but she didn't care. All she cared about was the endless happiness clouding her mind.

Harry dropped her down after a moment, pressing a kiss to her temple as he looked down to her with a wide smile.

"What does the email say?"

She read it out loud again for his benefit, looking back to him when she'd finished and noticing the sheer pride on his face. In awe of her.

"I'm so fucking proud of you baby," he grinned, pulling her to him again.

This time, he pressed his lips to hers in a show of complete affection and love and wonderment, and she melted into him easily. Her head was swimming with the foreign feeling of elation she was getting more and more used to at the minute, but she wasn't complaining. She'd ride it out for as long as it was around.

"Thank you. And thank you for helping me to apply," she said once they'd broken apart, sheepishly looking up to him as she kept her hands pressed to his chest. "I don't know if I'd have managed it if you hadn't persuaded me."

"Yes, you would have," he countered, weaving his arms around her middle and locking his hands together behind her back. "Because if there's one thing you're extraordinary at, it's being determined. And getting your own way too, which I can definitely vouch for."

Chuckling at his words, she leant her head against his chest, groaning in a mixture of disbelief and happiness. "I can't believe I'm actually going to be a student. Nearly ten years after it was originally meant to happen. Dad would have been chuffed."

"He'd have been so proud," Harry said, wearing a smile as his eyes glazed over with a fond memory. "I can just picture him now, buying you a pint to celebrate and telling all of his friends down the pub how smart his little Nessie is."

She smiled fondly at the picture too, knowing that it was accurate. He'd always been her biggest supporter, her most dedicated fan. That twinge of sadness hit her again, knowing he wasn't there to tell the news to.

"After I took the job with the band, he told me that he hoped I'd go back to education to try and get a degree. Said it would be a good qualification to fall back on if things went 'tits up'. His exact words," she laughed.

"Yep, that sounds like your dad," Harry agreed, eyes crinkled in amusement.

"Dad was the reason I agreed to audition for the band, you know. Told me I would regret it if I didn't. Up until that point I'd nearly said no out of fear," she said after a pause, a rush of nostalgia coating her. "Weird, isn't it. How everything works out."

Harry pondered it, his lips quirking to the side before he shook his head.

"No, I don't think it's weird at all actually. Your dad was a smart man, and I think this just proves he knew a lot more about life than he let on. But one thing I do know is that you living your life how you want to live it is what makes him the proudest. Choosing to do things for you, because you want to do them. I just know it."

Wednesday's eyes travelled over his soft face. His stubble was growing out, a longer length than usual making him look older, but she didn't mind. In fact, she quite liked the new mature look and the ability to be able to stroke the little hairs on his jaw, not quite scratchy but not soft either. His lips were still just as plump and cherry red as ever, always so inviting for her own. And his eyes, those forest green eyes that she'd realised changed shade dependent upon what light he was stood in, were as hypnotic as a swinging pendant. She was so obsessed with him, and the way he was looking at her like his heart might burst out of his chest with pride was the final straw to her pressing a long, meaningful kiss to his lips that stole her breath away.

Or maybe it was just him. She couldn't tell anymore.

Pulling away, she breathed out in relief, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Anyway, more importantly, where is this cake and what type is it?" she asked, looking around him to see Mitch cutting another slice for himself in the distance.

Harry smiled down at her as he wove his hands through hers and led her over.

It didn't take long for her atmosphere to switch from somewhat calm, to absolute panic. And though she didn't like to admit it, Wednesday was sure she was 75% to blame for the creation of some of that panic.

Once she'd had her hair and makeup finished and had changed into her outfit, received her in ears, done some vocal warmups and placed about ten more drops of CBD oil under her tongue, the buzz of the stadium was filling the air. Excited screams, loud chatter, the sound of the support act on stage. Bass was vibrating through the floor, setting the frequency for her own anxiety.

Harry always knew when she was really anxious.

It was the moment she went completely silent.

Sat on the edge of the sofa as she stared blankly at the TV on the wall, some Brazilian programme in Portuguese playing that she couldn't understand, her clammy fingers toyed together as her jaw was clenched firmly shut. She was sure if she let it relax it would tremble from the weight of the pre-show jitters that had been accumulating for the best part of a year.

Sound was all around her, crew members talking, the band relaxed and joking, but she was radio silent. Unmoving in the madness. She'd forgotten how much of an anxiety rush going on stage gave her, but over the years and with the constant touring, it had mellowed out to a little niggle of nerves beforehand. Nothing she couldn't handle. But the beast of anticipation was raging within her then, rendering her practically mute as she focused on nothing other than not throwing up with anxiety.

It wasn't like she thought herself incapable of completing the set to the best of her abilities. Far from it. She'd rehearsed and perfected the set down to a T over the past few weeks, not to mention with every show she'd gone to beforehand she'd been carefully analysing each queue and pause. Taking the information in just in case. She knew she could do it, but when anxiety struck her, there wasn't much rationality in her thoughts.

But she tried for all her might to combat each worry with an affirmation of positivity.

. You can count the number of mistakes you've made in 8 years on one hand.

People don't care enough to boo.

If it happens, it happens. Laugh it off.

Breath and focus on the music.

From the outside, it would be impossible to discern the madness of her mind. She looked calm, somewhat nervy but fine. No-one would be able to tell the complete damage control she was carrying out in her own mind.

At least, no-one except Harry, who she knew had been carefully watching her rigid demeanour from where he stood in the corner of the room, half-heartedly talking to the vocal coach.

"15 minutes until show time guys", the tour manager shouted into the room, sending a new flood of fear into her.

When she realised she needed another nervous wee before going on stage, something like her tenth of the night, she stood up and excused herself quietly to the toilets, taking deep calming breaths. In for three, out for three. Putting all the techniques she'd learnt over the year to good use.

Once she'd sat down in the stall, releasing a shaky breath as she peed, she bit her lip and tried to ignore the echoes of noise. The show was creeping scarily close and though it was by no means a special show, it still felt special to her. Like it represented something bigger. Her introduction back into work, the final hurdle on her road to recovery.