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Dreaming Of You // If I'm Still Dreaming

'Artists do have morals'

I went blank for about half an hour, incapable of registering a word of what my interpreter had started to translate again. I just kept glaring at Guillaume, my mouth tightened in an angry gesture, arms crossed and clenched fists. He had assumed a defying attitude with that mocking smirk sealed across his lips. He knew everything that was going on between Jeanne and me… She hadn’t told him, but he managed to figure out anyway. And I knew why. He knew because he wanted her for himself. I didn’t know what was going on between them, but he wanted her. It was clear as water. And she wasn’t moving to Munich…

After a while I managed myself to take my attention away from him, even though I couldn’t stop ranting in my mind. More than three hours of defence had passed and I was starting to feel dizzy, especially with all the interpreter’s whispering in my ear. And Fan Fiction was really confusing. Everything was getting more and more dense by the minute. At some point I wasn’t even sure of what Jeanne was saying anymore. I randomly began to glance around, focusing my attention in the actual lecture theatre. It had nothing to do with the Versailles’ style I fancied so much. This sobriety, this good taste, this earthy majesty… Jeanne belonged to places like this. I should have to change all the shinny doorknobs of my house if she were to visit me. But would she? Would she ever know my house? I hoped so, and so badly, but then I felt the familiar sting to my heart and glanced at her. I just felt like crying. I couldn't keep my mind away. What was going on between her and her director? Would everything be over between us now that her research had finished? An elbow to the ribs from my interpreter caught me off guard. What about these freaking French people? Were they all against me? He murmured something about Jeanne presenting her conclusions and after this, the defence would be over. I started to listen carefully to him, my eyes fixed on Jeanne.

“Fan Fiction constitutes the literature’s sub-genre in demand at the moment, mainly due to globalisation and overrepresentation of the entertainment industry in society. Nonetheless it has been there since mankind began to tell stories. What we know as mythology might be considered as some sort of proto-Fan Fiction, as it was born as a commentary to religious dogma. It’s a fair example of mankind wanting to go beyond the limits of establishment, of what we know or what we are supposed to know,” the interpreter translated. It seemed an interesting perspective, but what did I know about mythology? She could say anything and I’d find it wonderful anyway. Just to see her speak her words, so sure of herself… “The piece that we consider as the first modern novel, ‘Don Quixote of La Mancha,’ could be appointed as an example of proto-Fan Fiction too, as the author, Don Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra, wrote it in order to demystify a well-known genre of his time, Chivalry books. At the same time, in what could be considered an example of irony of destiny, Cervantes earned himself his own Fan Fiction, as the writer known as Alonso Fernández de Avellaneda thought he knew the story better and decided to write a sequel himself.” God, to hear her pronouncing those words in Spanish was such a turn on with all those ‘s’ and those ‘c.’ How could she be so hot just by talking? “Since the 17th century to this day we find many other examples of this phenomenon, tightly related to other literary genres, but it is not until the 20th century that Fan Fiction reached its peak, probably as a consequence of the expansion and democratisation of the cultural field or even because of the exhaustion of the literary topics.” How could she do this? Just summarise four thousand years of civilisation in just a few paragraphs? How could she be interested in someone like me, who barely knew the history of his own country? “Certainly, the rise of the entertainment industry to the pinnacle of Arts had a massive impact in all forms of artistic manifestations, even those genres –such as literature– not directly related to that industry, being film adaptations and Fan Fiction the most important forms derived from the process. Hollywood promotes itself as a factory of dreams. As I had been pointing out throughout my defence, fantasy is the core of Fan Fiction, and it works as a commentary of the dreaming generated by the industry, which includes films, actors, books, or singers…" I knew we were getting to me. I started to squirm. “But art is far more complex, and fantasy alone cannot be the only explanation to a minor though complex phenomenon.” Jeanne made a pause, inhaling deeply, and glanced down before she continued. “As Marcel Proust postulated on the first chapter of ‘In Search Of Lost Time,’ when men dream we hold the strings of space and time around us. We are the centre of our universe and are able to bring a new order to the world we know. We are architects of reality. Dreaming becomes the main instrument to create a new cosmos, to provide a new way of organising reality that gives the dreamer a feeling of ownership. When they re write Harry Styles, these writers control him, fulfilling an unsatisfied desire to know more about him.” Jeanne glanced down again. I was puzzled… Was this the reason she wrote stories about me? I remembered well when she told me she had written to understand something. It has to be it… “Most of the fans don’t know him at all, or very little, and following Carl Jung it is expected that dreaming could compensate the situation. It is almost impossible to understand Harry Styles’ phenomenon without Fan Fiction, as it represents the core of the collective dreaming that feeds back his own appreciation amongst the fans. Some stories are highly stereotyped, as they repeat structures previously appointed as desirable by the mainstream, but some of these people try to write meaningful stories. One of them that I knew died in the process, with only seventeen years old…” I noticed Jeanne discreetly cleared her throat, glimpsing down, while she was speaking. “She had written the most unexpected dream, because she was deep, caring, clever, and highly inspired by Harry Styles. The story is unfinished and will remain untold…” Something stormed throughout my body. What story was she referring to? I needed to know, as it sounded quite important to Jeanne. Maybe Alicia knew. “Art as an abstraction might not have morals, but artists do have morals, even amateur artists, and make choices in order to please themselves or others… Individuals have built canons, transforming their voices into literary genre and art. Mainstream has built a best-seller industry. In the end, these girls have contributed to make Harry Styles rich and famous, but in the most unexpected, creative way. Writing, reading, story-telling had made us the civilisation we are, and through the grace of dreaming, some of his fans have participated in this miracle that binds us together…”

It was over, and I was so proud of her I felt like clapping my hands, even though her last sentences had me a bit puzzled. But I knew it wasn’t a concert, and these weren’t the ways to show enthusiasm in the academic world. ‘Cool down, fanboy,’ I told myself. The main examiner said something and they left to deliberate. Guillaume nodded at her before he turned around. Who cared about him? Fifteen minutes and she would be a Doctor. Doctor Mars… Jeanne automatically bounced to her mother and Maurice. My heart tightened inside my chest. What would I give to trade places with them? To be the first person she turned to? Tears pricked at my eyes as I watched her talking to them, overjoyed. She didn’t even glance at me once. I couldn’t manage it anymore so I stood up and began to walk away. I just wanted to leave. It wasn’t my place. She didn’t want me there. She had never wanted me there. But when I passed Alicia’s side I felt her hand grabbing my arm. I looked at my right and closing her eyes, she nodded once, as asking me not to be childish. At her gesture I immediately calmed down and sitting by her side I asked her for that story Jeanne talked about. They were my fans after all. I wanted to know more about them, and this one in particular, although I could never do something for her or just comfort her because she was gone. Alicia told me she was certain the information was somewhere through her notes, and she’d let me know.

After a few minutes the examining committee re entered the lecture theatre. They ceremoniously stood behind the desk and Jeanne mirrored their action. My interpreter began to murmur again, but this time it didn’t bother me anymore. Jeanne was a Doctor, and with honours. The main carried on congratulating her personally, stating that he was sure someday she would teach in Stanford as she wished for, because she had the brains and the character to accomplish her dream. Stanford? That was California… As I became dazed by the possibility everybody must have gathered around Jeanne to hold her. When I reacted a second later I noticed she got rid of them and she was walking right over to me with that face I couldn’t read, so I just stood up, nervous.

Jeanne stood in front of me and before I could say a single word to congratulate her she delivered a massive slap across my face that made my head turn right. I instinctively led my hand to my cheek and began to straighten up to fearfully look into her eyes. She had all the right to be mad… But to my surprise her eyelashes flickered closed and I felt her hands on the back of my neck and her belly colliding with mine, then all the rest of her body making full contact with me inch by inch. And then suddenly I sensed her warm breath I had been missing so much, and her lips crashed onto mine. I went absolutely weak but without thinking it twice I took my hands to her waist, pulling her even closer as we kissed almost desperately. The room disappeared around us. This is how kissing your wife at your wedding ceremony must feel. It was as if we were the only living persons in the world, though part of my brain knew they were all looking at us in awe.

Nothing prevented the kiss from becoming more heated and as our bodies slipped together her thigh came to brush up against my crotch, making me harden instantly. I ran my hands through her back. I just couldn’t get enough of her, though Jeanne pulled off and half shutting her eyes she turned around to walk away from me. I stood amazed, my jaw literally dropping. Pat giggled at my side, and tapped my arm with the back of his hand to pass me a handkerchief for me to clean the remaining lipstick from my mouth. While I did staring at Jeanne’s smooth body moving away, I caught a glimpse of Anne looking at my direction, but she quickly glanced down.

–.–.–

Notes

OK, you don't have to agree with Jeanne's thoughts on fan fiction. It's what fits the story :) So there is the explanation to Jeanne's writing. We'll have someone wondering about it though, a few chapters from now. Who could that be? ;)

Hope you liked the slap, and the kiss. How does this fit Harry's fears? And 'always collected Jeanne'? You tell me! It's funny, KAOT, because the other day you had Niall and Zayn talking about slaps in 'Just As Much' ;)

I keep adding chapters but I'm planning to end this at chapter 75. You do the maths! But we have other worries before the end. Wild ride ahead! I want to thank you all for reading, voting and everything! It means so much. What helps me most it's the feedback, believe me. Every time a get a comment it makes my day. What can I say? I'm easy to please. So if you like this story and you want to help me to write faster, just go to the comment box below and tell your thoughts. KAOT, from the bottom of my heart, our talk from yesterday saved me. So I thank that basketball game you were stuck in! We'll get an early update this week because of it :) So come on, I'm serious, it works! Love you all! <3

And happy birthday, Mr. Styles! Thank you for the inspiration!

Comments

miss you a lot friend,
message me sometime if you have the chance ❤️

cococranberry cococranberry
3/13/19

You promised you would never make us wait for an update that long again... *cries*

JasperRenee JasperRenee
7/3/18

Hello,

I hope your life is everything that you want it to be. It seems like the past couple of months have really changed my perspective of the world, and how much you need to appreciate the little things in life. You never know when life will snatch them away from you.

I have really appreciated all that you have done for me. I miss your constantly developing plot, and your infinitesimal points of detail. In other words, I miss this story so much.

I feel like so much has happened since the last time you updated. I hope you know that I am always eagerly awaiting your next chapter. Even if it's 5 years from now, and I am a fully licensed Speech Language Pathologist, I will try my best to keep up my support. Maybe next year while I am studying abroad in Italy you will find the motivation to continue. Who knows what's going to happen. Maybe I should take the quote from the t-shirt I am currently wearing. "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know you're gonna get."

Thanks,
Morgan

Oh no, and then the moment came there's no next chapter anymore! What do I have to do with my spare time now?!
On a serious note: I loved loved looooooved your story so far. I loved the way the sequel wasn't the same as 'Dreaming of you'. Another timeset, other places, other people getting involved, and the tension being build up from the beginning till now. Their 'relationship' didn't went back to the way things were in France 4 years ago, it needed time to get together again and in a different way (happy about their love right now, but after 111 chapters I know things can change...). I really loved the way you wrote about Mark Owen as being Jeanne's 'Boyband crush'. I've been such a big fan of Take That and Mark was my first true love when I was 11 or so. His picture was hanging above my bed, wich I kissed goodnight every night. (I guess I've just spilled my age, haven't I? ;-) )
When I read the last comments, I think your last update was from 2 months ago. I really hope you can find the time, the energy and the inspiration to finish this story, because I'm hooked! Give me a warning when you'll write a book, I will be in front of the bookstore, waiting!

Love, Leah



Dear You,

I've started reading this story two days ago. From the very first chapter I'm hooked and I can't stop reading. I don't want to go out, I don't want to sleep, I just want to read. Not to know how it will end actually, because I don't want it to end! So I try to find a balance between reading fast en making it last a little bit longer. I'm a fan of Harry from the day Sign of the times has released, so I have a lot of catching up to do. When you mention a song or a situation with One Direction, I look for it on Google or YouTube. So you're helping me to get to know the world of Harry and 1D, thank you for that! I've been to Paris a couple of times, It's such a beautiful city. I have good, romantic, memories of the times I've been there. You're writing about the city is so accurate and lively, it feels I'm there again by reading. My heart nearly broke for Harry and Jeanne when I read the last chapter of Dreaming of you. Happy to know there's a sequel, I going to start reading that now. I just wanted to write you this, because in the notes below the chapters you seem like a very nice, caring person. Thank you for writing such a beautiful story! (I hope my writing makes sence, English isn't my native language so I know I make a lot of mistakes. I'm sorry!)
Love, Leah