I'll Let You Live

Twenty-five. Oh no, wait – one more. Twenty-six men in dark clothing with cameras that never seem to stop flashing outside our door. As I peek through the blinds I’m thankful that we have a two story apartment. They’d have to use a freaking ladder to get pictures of Harry to put on their grimy magazine covers. Damn paparazzi.

My phone vibrates nearly causing me to spill my drink. When I glance at the screen my stomach drops. Fletcher. God, not now. I can’t handle this right now.

“I didn’t think you’d be the type that uses their phone as a way to not look awkward at a party,” a British accent catches my ear.

“I’m actually in the process of reading a very important text,” I lift my chin to look at Harry. Even in heels, my eye level is at his nose.

“Oh really?” he crosses his arms with a smirk and leans against the wall. “From who? Your mom? Your boyfriend?”

“Actually, yes,” I feel my smile fade as I type in my passcode to look at the text. “My boyfriend.”

“Oh?”

“Disappointed?” I raise my eyebrows.

“No, no, not like that,” he laughs and waves his hand. “Usually when girls tell someone about their boyfriend they seem, hmm, I don’t know – happy?”

“I am happy,” my smile is strained.

“I don’t like making friends with liars,” he tilts his head like a puppy.

“Everyone is a liar about something. Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth,” Oscar Wilde’s words slip easily off my tongue.

“Okay,” Harry sets his drink down. Before I can do anything, his hand is placed over my eyes so that I can’t see anything. “You have a mask now.”

For a bit I just take in the fact that Harry Styles is touching my face by his own choice. I soon realize that he’s serious and that he’s not going to move anytime soon.

“Alright,” I sigh. My hands don’t know what to do, so I shove them into my elbows as I cross my arms. “What do you want to hear? My entire life story?”

“If you’re so happy with your boyfriend, why isn’t he here tonight?”

“He lives in Ohio,” air fills my lungs at a painfully slow speed. “His name is Fletcher. He said that 2.9% of long distance relationships work out, and that we’re going to land in that 2.9%.”

“And what do you think?” he asks with no hesitation.

“Honestly?” I lick my lips.

He removes his hand. The sudden dim lighting just barely shocks my pupils, but I can see Harry’s face clearly.

“I don’t know,” I say. The lie coats my mouth like glue. I wish my mouth was full of glue; maybe then I’d actually keep my mouth shut.

“Does anyone ever know for sure?” he leans against the window with me. I watch him as he watches the party. He does not make one wide sweep of the room, but watches each person individually.

“Wren!” Ari comes quickly to our corner. “I see you’ve met Harry. Harry, I see you’ve met my roommate.”

“Oh,” his eyes seem to snap back into focus. “You’re her flat mate? Of course!” He smacks his forehead. “I should have recognized your name.”

“Mhm,” I smile. Ari is for sure going to launch me into a Spanish Inquisition about my conversation with Harry later.

“Well now we’ve got to be friends,” Harry grins an infectious grin that makes all three of us beam at each other. “Anyway, it’s time for me to head home. I’ll drop by tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” Ari gives him a quick hug and turns to me with a hand on my arm. “Can you start ushering people out? It’ll be easier to Harry to blend in while he leaves.”

“Nice meeting you, Wren,” Harry pulls me in for a one armed hug. I’m a bit taken aback – I mean, I did just meet him a few hours ago. But nevertheless I return the hug.

“You too,” I nod.

~~~

Sunlight bleeds through the blinds in my bedroom. As I stretch through the sheets, my eyes soak the light in. My nose twitches at the scent of cinnamon rolls. Ari never makes sugary food for breakfast; it’s always fruit, granola, or whatever hip Californians are stereotyped to eat.

Pulling on some pajama shorts, I catch my reflection in the mirror on my wall.

“Good God,” I groan at the current state of my hair. The long auburn tresses look like a Jackson Pollock painting thrown on top of my head. Eye shadow still haunts the creases of my eyelids and my skin feels slightly sticky from the residue of foundation. The giant sweatshirt I’m wearing makes me feel even more sweaty and grungy.

After quickly washing my face, I softly pad down the stairs into the living room and towards the kitchen.

“What’s up with the cinnamon rolls?” I call out. “I thought you were a true Cali-”

I pause mid-sentence when I realize that a certain curly haired lad is sitting on our living room couch. I also realize that I am not wearing a bra.

Harry offers a smile which I awkwardly return. Thank God I decided to put on shorts.

“Why is he here?” I look through the kitchen entryway at Ari who seems to be oblivious to the fact that I am in shock and panic.

“Well, good morning to you too,” she grins.

“Good morning,” I mumble before shuffling into the kitchen.

“He said he’d drop by this morning,” Ari raises her eyebrows, but keeps her eyes trained on the rolls she’s glazing.

“You could’ve at least woken me up and told me when,” I whisper frustrated.

“I know, I know,” she sighs. “Just calm down. I need to go get groceries and run some errands soon, so you have to keep Harry entertained, okay?”

“You neglect to tell me about all of this,” I gesture wildly towards the living room. “And then you just suddenly think I’ll be okay with hanging out with a celebrity who just saw me in practically my underwear? I’m not even wearing a bra. You can’t just do this to me.”

“Oh,” she turns off the oven with a click. “But I am.”

And with a mischievous smile and a jingle of keys, Ari is out the door. I hesitantly grab the small tray of cinnamon rolls and make my way back into the living room.

“Um hey,” I start as I set the tray down on the coffee table in front of Harry.

Before I can say anything else, he stops me with a hand.

“Do what you need to do and then we’ll talk,” he smiles. I gratefully smile back before I practically run up the stairs to my room.

I decide on some dark skinny jeans, a sweater, and my Doc Martens. November is making itself clear outside. The weather just keeps getting colder and colder with each day.

Once I come back into the living room, Harry seems ready to go having finished two cinnamon rolls.

“So what do you want to do?” grabbing a roll for myself, I sit down on the overstuffed love seat across from him.

“Wherever,” he shrugs. “Show me your favorite place around here.”

“Really?” I wipe some crumbs away from my sweater. “I thought you would be cultured enough to suggest some posh celebrity hang out.”

“Oh God no,” he groans. “Those places give me headaches.”

“Okay, fair enough,” I laugh. “I think I know a place.”

“Alright,” he gets up. “We’ll have to take my ride though.”

Harry makes a quick text as I grab my coat. He looks so A-list with his tan Burberry overcoat that I self-consciously look down at my well-worn pea coat - the dark dye is even starting to fade at the elbows.

Soon enough a black Range Rover pulls up outside the apartment. A big guy, who I assume is a bodyguard, ushers us into the back seat right before the flash of a camera goes off which triggers only a thousand more.

“Damn,” I mutter.

“I know right,” Harry sighs as he settles in his seat. “Just let him know where to go.”

“Amoeba Records please,” I say to the driver.

When we finally get to the music store, a proper crowd of paparazzi and fans is stationed outside the glass doors.

Harry must notice my nervous staring.

“Just stay close to me and the guards will get us through fine,” he gives me a warm smile.

I nod and we begin the bumpy path through the pushing and shoving mass of people.

~~~

“Arctic Monkeys is one of my favorites,” my finger grazes the edge of one of their albums. “I like the indie sound mixed with the almost rock and roll-ish vibe.”

“Nice,” Harry speaks from a few albums down. “I love classic rock a lot. Our newest album has a lot of that influence.”

“Really?” I display mock astonishment. “The bubblegum sugar pop boyband likes rock and roll?”

“Believe it or not, it’s true,” he laughs. “Louis, Niall, and I like it. Zayn and Liam not so much, but they can deal with it.”

“Ah,” I flip through some Brand New albums. “Oh I love this album, Daisy. It has some of my favorite songs on it and the cover is so cool.”

“What genre is it?” he asks as he takes the copy I hand to him, flipping it over like he’s looking at a menu.

“Alternative rock. Their lyrics are absolutely astounding,” I stare at the forest on the cover of the album as he holds it up. “I’ve always wanted to go to a forest like that. It looks so… I don’t know. It looks like what you’d see in a fable or a fantasy movie.”

“Yeah well, forests are usually full of annoying bugs and uncomfortable places to sleep,” he tucks the album underneath his arm.

“I’ve never been camping,” I look up at him before moving to the other side of the album stand.

“No way. Have you travelled at all?” he asks.

A slight blush settles on my cheeks. God, I really don’t want to do this right now.

“Moving from Ohio to here is really the only time I’ve ever travelled,” biting my lip, I keep my eyes fixed on looking through the titles of albums.

“You’re serious?”

When I look up, Harry’s eyes are wide.

“Hey, not everyone is in a world travelling boyband,” I raise an eyebrow.

“Well yeah,” he leans forward. “But you haven’t even visited any place outside of here or Ohio in your entire life?”

“Mhm,” I lift my eyes to meet his.

“Why?” he’s so aghast that I can’t help but laugh at his bewildered expression.

“I guess I just never got around to getting funds for travelling,” I lean forward on my elbows across the stand as well.

“What about your boyfriend? He’s never taken you any places for vacation?”

“Fletcher thinks it’s safer to just stay where we belong,” I watch Harry’s face change.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I had a, uh, sickness a while back and he thinks it’s better if I just stay at home and stuff,” I slowly explain.

“But you’ve got to at least get out and see the world some time,” he makes a wide sweep of his hand across the store. “There are so many amazing things. Like forests.”

“I thought you said forests were a bad idea,” I laugh.

“Well,” he grasps for words. “Why don’t you just get up yourself and go on a road trip sometime?”

“It’s not that simple,” I sigh. “If Fletcher found out…”

“If he found out – what?” he raises his eyebrows. “What’s he gonna do?”

“He’ll get mad at me.”

“So? He’ll get over it,” Harry grins. “Just fly free, you little bird.”

“It’s not that easy…”

I don’t even want to imagine what Fletcher would say if he found out I was becoming friends with Harry. He’d probably say that all celebrities are the same fake figures – that they were just using people to get the fame they wanted. Glancing at Harry, I know he isn’t like that. But Fletcher isn’t here; he only has magazines and gossip blogs which he claims as fact.

“It sounds like Fletcher is a bit controlling,” he says his name like it has a bad aftertaste.

Harry’s right, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Fletcher is more than two thousand miles away, yet I can still hear his hurtful words clearly as if he were standing inside my head.

“He’s just trying to keep me safe,” my attempt at defense is weak.

“Okay,” this time it’s Harry’s turn to sigh. “Whatever. Do you want to leave now? The crowd seems to be getting a bit bigger and I’m not too confident about those glass doors.”

“Sure,” I glance at the windows. He’s right. A giant crowd of paparazzi and now what seem to be fans has only grown larger since we got here.

“We got you,” the store manager comes up to us and leads us to a back entry where we climb into the back seat of the SUV once again.

“Oscar Wilde,” Harry speaks up on the way back to the apartment.

“What?” I turn to him with a questioning look.

“Man is least himself when he talks in his own person,” he quotes just as I did the night before.

“Yeah,” I smile.

Harry smiles back, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead of warmth, there is pity in his eyes and it makes me regret every word I’ve said since the night before.

Notes

Yoooooo, I am so sorry that this took a month to update. God, I am so sorry. I had final exams and AP exams and it was just hell to be honest. But now that summer is here and I have all the time in the world, updates will be every other Saturday.
Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter! Let me know what you think in the comments - I love hearing your thoughts and theories of what will happen next! Thank you for reading. c:
love you gems,
christi ellie