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Dreaming Of You // If I'm Still Dreaming

'This is another life'

Harry’s POV

“I never thought hanging out with you would be so boring–––Jeanne states absentmindedly, as she takes another sip of her Vodka Martini, leaving no trace of lipstick. I might have got the wrong year…” She muses, lightly shaking her head, and leaves her glass on the table in front of her. Louis chuckles and I can’t help but glare, as I rim the edge of my glass with the tip of my finger.

Truth is, tonight is not going as I imagined. Truth is, I thought tonight Jeanne and I would have a moment for ourselves and, maybe, even finally talk about what happened between us and our feelings. But no. Thank to Louis tonight has officially turned into a nightmare.

Madison Square Garden wasn’t as I pictured it at all. Jeanne spent the whole match chatting away with Nancy, while Jimmy sat between Louis and I feeling a bit out of place. He knew Louis would be showing up and kept the surprise because he didn’t know how bad things are between us. He does now. I had a beer, but my appetite was completely lost. Jeanne had a Sloppy Joe instead. And since we got to the club bar of the hotel in Meatpacking District she and Louis have done nothing but make small talk. I’m too mad even to speak… She was as aware as I about him being in New York, but she seemed far keener to see him. You could tell by the way she held him. At least apparently he’s the only one having a great time, as he’s always so full of himself. Is it me, or is he getting even shorter?

“Did you watch the interview?” I directly ask Louis after probably ten minutes of complete silence.

“I barely made it to the last segment.”

“Did you know Jeanne saw us live in Philadelphia?” I glimpse at her, and she hastily looks away. If a private talk between us is out of reach, then maybe she still can explain herself in front of Louis, as they’re such great friends.

“What? You never told me, gorgeous.” His words make me stop dead. Gorgeous? And I thought I was over the top, calling women ‘beautiful.’ I mean, she’s gorgeous, but who gave him the right? A rush of heat surges through my body.

“Don’t you know her at all? She hardly tells anything,” I grunt, still playing with my glass. Somehow I’m glad she didn’t. If she had it would mean something I’d never be ready to face.

“I can handle my own questions,” Jeanne speaks to me steadily and I can’t help but flash her a quick glare. “I’m not twelve. And even if I were twelve.” Is she mad at me for before…? I bet she’d have kicked my bum at twelve too.

“But she’ll start to change now–––I talk to Louis, completely snubbing her. She’s set to give an interview to Harper’s Bazaar.”

“Harper’s Bazaar-Germany–––she sharply points out, tilting her head to speak right into my eyes. In German… If some non-German speakers want to learn something about me they’ll have to struggle.” Louis snorts. Story of my life. Maybe I should have learnt German instead of French. Maybe I would have been luckier. “And if you excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll finish my drink at the bar, as you have things to sort out.” What? “Have a good night.” Before I finish to come out of the stupor caused by her words she stands up, and spinning around she grabs her jacket and her clutch bag and walks away from our table. I gulp hard as I get a full view of her naked back. Naked back has become her signature look. God, I can’t get over those dimples… I used to love to brush them with the palm of my hand. Now I can’t even watch them without feeling as a total creep.

“You are ruining everything,” I return to talk to Louis after a second, who doesn’t seem worried.

“I’m sorry but it’s you acting like the jealous boyfriend.”

“What are doing here?–––I grumble through gritted teeth, leaning towards him. Why did you come?”

“I told you, maniac!–––he snaps, trying to control the volume of his voice. I’m in town for work and it’s been a while since I don’t see Jeanne. I’m taking her to have breakfast tomorrow morning and I’m telling you in advance for you to come to terms with it.” So this is why I’m the only one dejected about her walking out on us. “What is the ‘sorting out’ thing all about?” He asks casually now, glimpsing up.

“She feels sorry for you,” I say as I glance towards the bar. Jeanne has sat down in one of the deep red leather, vintage stools, and talks to the bartender. “So she wants me to help you to overcome Larry…” I carry on with a hint of irony, looking back at Louis.

“Your friend Larry. Right…” He speaks eerily, nodding, as he turns away, hands clenching around his glass of Sambuca. Weirdo.

“My friend Larry?–––I blurt, outraged. What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, Harry–––Louis lets out sarcastically as he turns back to face me. You loved to tease people…” What? I squint at him, trying to understand what he’s saying.

“It was my way to politely tell them my personal life was nobody’s business,” I claim in a quiet tone, leaning forward as I point at him with my finger.

“Well, they didn’t get the message.” He shrugs, turning away, and takes another sip of his booze. How can he be so ungrateful?

“And contrary to you, I was trying to empathise–––I remark earnestly. Did you ever listen to the psychologists from management?”

“Talk, talk, talk.” He rolls his eyes at me, gesturing with his hand. Oh, I wasn’t missing his scornful attitude.

“No, not just talk!–––I groan, refraining a tap on the table. Many people who were dealing with issues projected their personal situations upon us in order to cope.”

“Jeanne says the same on her works…” He mutters, his eyes back in mine, fingers running along his glass.

“Jeanne?” What is he talking about?

“Haven’t you read her thesis after all or…?” He inquires rather quizzically. Did he read it?

“You know I didn’t–––I let out almost in a whisper. I couldn’t…”

“From all I’ve seen that was just a side of the story…” I can’t help but scrunch my face at him. He always loved to come up with weird theories. That’s how we found Jeanne. “There might have been people looking for identification and representation, but it was mainly about you not being with the whole eight holes.”

“What?” I snap, suddenly leaning forward. Whole eight holes…? He’s too much.

“They were jealous, Harry–––he shrugs. They preferred you to like cock because they didn’t want you to be with someone they could consider competition. As they liked me too they transferred their feelings to mine.” When did he become so bitter?

“Your cock is nothing out of this world,” I point out, gesturing emphatically to the side.

“Those kinds of remarks never helped,” he murmurs, looking quite angry.

“You have the empathy of a potato…” And the sense of humour of a carrot.

“Why would I empathise with people who wanted me to be miserable?–––he lets out, sounding as angry as he seems. Because if it was to be true I would’ve had to disappear after lying so much. There wouldn’t have been a damage control massive enough to mend a mess like that…” Yeah, people don’t like to be fooled. “And why would I empathise with people who read everything in sexual terms?–––he carries on. As with beauty sometimes the dirtiness is in the eye of the beholder. And let me tell you, there was dirtiness… A lot…” He drinks another sip of his liquor.

“What?–––I ironise. What was the worst? Smut?” He always cared so much about other people’s opinions. “Get over it, Louis. There were just words.”

“How can someone who uses words to express his soul say ‘it’s just words’?–––he asks, his voice turning quite hurt. Words are powerful, Harry, and you know it. I know four little words that destroyed you.” At his remark I go weak and fall back against the chair. I don’t love you… Freaking Louis is doing it on purpose… “And if you listened to the psychologists then you should know libido is a fickle matter that turns into death drive quite easily–––he explains. Don’t you remember all the times you were attacked mercilessly by those who claimed to love you just because you did something they didn’t expect?” Louis looks at me with mad eyes. “Because I do!” He snaps and I involuntarily bounce in my seat. I know it was a hard time for him, but he should have got over it by now. “It was a very difficult fanbase to please…” Louis dries his mouth and glances away. I can’t help but frown.

“Was it all about that for you?–––I ask quietly, bending over the table to regain his attention. Was it because of this that you were so interested in Jeanne and I getting together? For people to stop thinking we were…?”

“No one would have thought it was a stunt,” he interrupts me, making a gesture of exhaustion with his arms. I shake my head.

“Didn’t you get anything of what they explained to us?” I can’t believe how stubborn he is. “People who believed in Larry would have never changed their minds. It was about them, not about us, as with Fan Fiction…”

“It would have been different.”

“Why?–––I ask, perplexed. Why are you so sure?”

“Because this time you were in love!–––he blurts, straightening up. And if you don't believe me, wait for tomorrow.” What is he implying? I can’t help but shake my head again.

“You told me a hundred times you thought what Jeanne and I had was true…” I mutter, dejected.

“This is another life, Harry,” Louis states, and turns away. What? Is he…?

“What are you trying to say?” I lean towards him, sounding a bit menacing, but I can’t control it. He wouldn’t dare… “That you want to seduce her…?”

“Don’t lose it–––he asserts, stopping me with a gesture of his hand. You are just her co-worker.” My blood boils through my veins and I stiffen in my seat. He would dare. Four years later he finally shows his true face. He wants Jeanne for himself. I glimpse at the bar and she’s there… naked back bent sensuously… My entire body tingles. “And why would you lip synch ‘She’s So Cold’?” Why is he bringing this up? And what was I supposed to lip synch? ‘Under My Thumb’? She is a Siamese cat of a girl, but the rest I could only wish… “That was so childish, Harry–––he remarks, squinting at me. Of course you are so hot for her. Everybody knows that now, starting with Jeanne…” I feel my cheeks burning. I didn’t want to be so obvious… “But the fact that she doesn’t want you doesn’t mean she’s cold.” No, but… Wait. What? “Just ask the guy she was seeing before she moved to LA.” What?

“Was she seeing someone?” I hurry to ask, my brain barely catching up with my mouth, as I begin to shiver from head to toe.

“I don’t know his name, but yes–––Louis claims, confusedly looking away. She’s a mum, not a nun… But knowing how your imagination wanders I bet she reached Virgin Mary’s status for you…” How does this pathetic little nothing dare to make fun of me? I violently lead my eyes to the bar to stare at the void.

“Where is she?” I stand up as moved by a spring, starting to make my way to the bar amongst the dark wooden tables, practically talking to myself. A lightning bolt could stroke Louis and I wouldn’t even care. “She was here a minute ago…” I sense he’s walking right behind me. “Sorry,” I speak to the bartender, stumbling upon my own words. The guy acknowledges me and abandons the task he’s doing. “The woman who was sitting right here…–––I mumble nervously. Red lips, almost ginger, dreamy eyes, dressed in black… She was drinking a Stolichnaya and Gallo’s Vodka Martini stirred with…”

“Two olives, yes–––he cuts me off. I know whom you are talking about. A gentleman offered her another drink as soon as she sat at the bar.” At his words I close my eyes, pushing my head back.

“Did she accept it?” Louis intervenes for me.

“Yes.” I can’t help but turn away, my fists clenching in frustration, though I quickly face him again.

“Did he approach her?” I ask the guy. I know the rules. To accept someone’s drink means the person can come and talk to you.

“He would have been a fool if he didn’t…” My body tenses to an unbearable point.

“Did they leave together?” Louis realises and speaks for me again.

“I’ve said enough already,” he says, gesturing defensively in front of him. I can’t believe it…

“Do you know who he is?” Louis points at me in a stupid attempt to intimidate the bloke, returning to look at him.

“Her… brother?” Is he picking on me? I abruptly move forward.

“Stop it. Stop it, Harry,” Louis tells me, holding my arm and pulling me away from the bar. I keep glaring at the bartender, who simply turns around and returns to his business. Why did he start to tell me, just to stop and leave me like this? “Let it go, Harry…–––he mumbles. She can hook up with whomever she wants.” I can’t help but squint at Louis, my heart shattering inside my chest.

“You talk so lightly because it wasn’t you who held her in your arms,” I begin to talk quietly, incapable of stopping the feel creeping up on me, the feel I cherished for so long. “Because you can be all smitten but you never had her like I did–––my tone rises and Louis flinches a bit. Because you don’t love her like…” I tighten my lips, stopping myself. This can’t be happening… “This is all your fault,” I claim, leaving Louis standing as the fool he is in the middle of the bar. Insensitive fool… As I storm out the images of that night in Philadelphia don’t stop assaulting my mind. Why does he have to always ruin everything for me…? Is he punishing me?

I step out of the lift and start to make my way to Jeanne’s room. I even managed to get her the room right across the corridor for us to be close… What was the use? Why do I get my stupid hopes up thinking she might have feelings for me? I stand in front of her door, but as soon as I’m about to knock I refrain myself, and stop. What if she has company…? I rest my forehead on the cold wood. My body cringes against it and I tightly close my eyes. I can’t do this…

Propelling myself with an arm I gather some strength and push my body apart, stumbling a few steps towards my room. I use the card to open the door and slam it shut behind me. I heavily fall back against it as I squeeze my eyes. No, I won’t cry. I won’t cry… I shake my head and walk up to the bar to pour myself a glass of scotch. The amber liquor burns down my throat, quickly making its way to my stomach. I wince and pour a second one. I grab my iPod and connect it to the dock, going through the library until I find the song I’m looking for. How pathetic I am… But this is better than making a fool out of myself in the room across the corridor. I deeply breathe in and glance around at the swanky wallpaper. I used to like it here… I walk up to the end of the room and throw myself in the Chesterton, holding the remote control in my hand. I mute the telly and start to look for the NBC channel. My heart violently leaps inside my chest, as I catch a sudden glimpse of Jeanne.

I can feel your tongue on mine,
Silky smooth like wine.
I’m living with those memories,
That’s all that’s left of you and me.

Jeanne… I frown as I appear on screen, staring at her like a fool, but an unwanted grin creeps up on my face as I watch her smiling at me, so bright, so absolutely mesmerising… I unbutton my shirt, taking a sip of my scotch while I close my eyes, and let myself get carried away by the song.

I can almost hear you sigh,
Almost hear you cry,
When you made sweet love to me.
And you turned on all the charm,
Acted much too calm.
You had a cold look in your eyes.

I look back at the telly, and stare at her image. Why do I play games with myself?

Did it mean nothing?
Was it all in vain?
Was I just your fool,
Or was the pleasure pain?

Tonight won’t end up like that night… I push my head back, closing my eyes again, the glass pressing on my thigh.

Have you set me free,
Or will I wake up in the morning
And find out it’s been a bad dream?

–.–.–

Notes

Listen to Almost Hear You Sigh by The Rolling Stones, and Under My Thumb.

When I decided to write this story I went for the issues that worried me the most, and some of those things play a role in it. Throughout the story it has been pretty clear "Larry" was the bad guy, coming between the boys along with Jeanne. Here's the climax of–mainly–chapters 61 and 73. As a fanfiction writer I know how to draw a line between reality and fantasy, but this is my version of things and what for some reason I've decided to tell you. So back to square one.

I hope you all have a nice holiday, and that you'll stay around for this weird, weird story. Love you all <3

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