All Again

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE
JULIE

Now.

I open up the lockscreen on my new gold Iphone X2 when I get a quick moment.
Since arriving in Bora Bora a couple hours ago, I have been busy prepping and preparing for my shoot. My blonde hair has been curled, my eyelashes extended, and I'm rocking a perfectly (fake) tan on my freshly waxed skin.
As my screen illuminates before me, immediately the picture of me and my beau stare back at me.
It immediately makes me smile.
It had been taken in the beginning of our relationship ten months ago.
As I stare at us smiling in my bed, I think of him.
My Harry.
The love of my life.
I haven't spoken to him much since I've arrived in Bora Bora and he has been pretty quiet in the last few hours.
Opening up my messages, I am quickly reminded of the one word answers and delayed responses. Our text messages have been pretty bare the last few hours.
The usual 'text when you land' and 'have a safe flight' stare back at me, but the emotion is missing.
I don't even see an ‘I love you.’
Shaking it off, I compose a quick message.
It's just the business.
I know he is getting ready for his tour, and it is probably the reason for his withdrawal.
I compose a quick message letting him know I will call him soon.
I have a break coming up in a half hour and I want to hear his voice.
I end the message with a cheery "Talk soon, Love you!" and close out the messages tab.
I go back to the main screen and study our picture while I am picked at. Around me, my long time stylist touches up my hair and assistants apply lotion to my legs.
In moments like this, I don't think its possible to miss him anymore than I already do.
I hate the distance, and these constant shoots I have to do.
When we get married, I've already decided to cut my schedule in half so we can be together more.
Harry Styles, has, and continues to just do something to me.
As I think of him now, I can't help but remember how we began.
The public believes we had met through a mutual friend, but it was only because I was initially embarrassed about how it had all went down. I didn't need the truth tarnishing the image I had worked so hard to brand. I was Julie St Clair, the sweet innocent model- the girl next door. The world didn't need to know the way that Harry made me in private.
I had seen Harry in London and California a few times before we were formally introduced.
It was always at an event or some promotional gig and at that time he was far from thinking about me.
The first time I saw him, he had still been with her—his ex- the young college student he had fallen for a couple years ago.
At the time I didn't know much about her, but I remember watching them together.
They seemed happy, but in public everyone typically does.
I remember being curious even then.
By then his solo stuff was out, and he was promoting his upcoming movie.
It was a small gathering thrown by Warner Brothers, celebrating the upcoming release.
I had been invited because of my growing name in the business, and he had been there with her.
I remember how out of place she looked.
On the surface she played the game well; her makeup was flawless and her dress was obviously paid for by her rich boyfriend.
She almost looked like she belonged in the room, outside of the way she clung to him in fear.
As he worked the room, used to the attention and bullshit game of public relations, she had looked like she couldn’t wait to leave.
Their hands had stayed interlaced the majority of the time, and she went everywhere he went.
That was what kept my attention.
He doted on her and tried to make her as comfortable as possible.
Every couple minutes, he would kiss the top of her forehead or whisper something in her ear. It was as if he was saying I’m here, we’re in this together.
It was obvious he loved her very much and was trying to help get her adjusted to it all.
I could already tell it wasn’t going to happen. It’s only a matter of time before they break up, I said to my friend that night.
And my prediction seemed to be right on the money. A couple months later, I would see him again.
This time though, he was rumored to be single, yet it was still very clear he was mentally with her.
The girls that surrounded him at an award show were barely looked at or noticed and word on the street was that he and his ex broke up often, so I- as other girls- assumed they were just on a break.
Me and Harry never spoke during these times, but seeing him around and reading the rumors, I was still interested.
He was handsome, talented, rich, funny, and seemed to be just an all around good guy. Who wouldn't be interested?
When we would finally meet and talk, it would be at a concert a year later. By then, he hadn't been seen with a girl for close to a year. It was obvious whatever he and his ex had going on, was permanently paused.
This time, fate would have us sitting in the same section at a Twenty One Pilots concert.
He had gotten there before me, so when me and my best friend arrived at the concert hall, I had noticed him first. I had always hated watching the pre-shows and starter acts so when I shuffled in my seat, just before the lights dimmed, I noticed him right away, only a few seats from me.
He had been there with his friend Jeff, and their mutual friend Chris.
Cradling a beer in his hand and a wide smile, he hardly noticed the attention that was thrown his way from different parts of the large room.
I was in the row of seats directly behind him, a few seats to the right so we had a perfect view of each other.
I was instantly one of those eyes watching him.
Eventually he noticed me when the first song began. By that time, I was watching him and the stage, shifting my eyes between the two.
He caught me.
As I had looked to the left, to gauge his reaction at the stage antics in front of us, I was surprised when his eyes locked on mine.
For a few seconds, they lingered.
As my eyes met his, neither one of us moved our heads or shifted our eyes away quickly.
Instead, he smiled and lifted his drink at me.
Hello.
I smiled back, probably blushing a bright red, and lifted my water to him.
Hello back.
He chuckled, completely carefree, smiled wider and then turned to the stage.
For the next hour, I would look his way, and he would look mine, gauging each other's reactions to the show; his dimple and cheeky grin appearing often.
By the time he was at the end of his second drink, I had begun to watch him more than the show.
He was happy, dancing and nodding his head while laughing with his friends and I wondered briefly what it would be like to be a part of his world.
There was an air about him. Call it zen... call it chill...but I couldn’t look away. Like a flashlight moving around a room, he commanded my attention.
It was clear from this brief exchange, that he was someone interesting to be around.
At the end of the concert, he surprised me when instead of shuffling out and leaving with his friends, he called out 'hey' in my general direction.
Turning to him, we once again locked eyes, and he made a motion to come to me.
We met halfway.
Immediately his accent melted me.
"Hey, good show right?" he questioned, and before I could answer, he introduced himself. "I'm Harry."
"Julie." I said, and then turned to my friend " This is Reba."
He acknowledged her and then turned back to me.
He was blunt, and quickly got to the point.
"What are you guys getting ready to do?"
"Get a drink." Reba said beside me, reading between his invitation. She was always down for a party.
I smiled at her, but already knew with my shoot in a week, there would be no consuming of alcohol.
"Cool." He said looking at his friends, and then looking back at me. "Want some company?"
We headed to the Troubadour in West Hollywood, catching some late night comedy act and getting to know each other more over martinis, tequila drnks and waters.
Reba and Harry's friend Chris hit it off quickly, and Harry and I spent most of our time talking.
Jeff, the more responsible and 'business' one amongst us, spent his time on the phone texting and following up on phone calls.
"So when's your next shoot?" Harry had asked me in the middle of conversation.
I was surprised.
"How did you know I was a model?"
In our dalliances, that hadn’t come up yet.
"I've obviously seen some of your stuff." He said with a flirtatious smile.
"Oh yeah? Then what's my full name?" I challenged flirting back.
He smiled lazily. "Julie St. Clair. You seem to specialize in swimsuits."
"Swimsuits huh?"
I was impressed.
"Yeah, you did a recent ad with Solid and Striped right?"
I smiled. Now I was really impressed.
"What are you, stalking me Harry Styles?”
"Well that depends, do you want to be stalked?"
At that moment--absolutely. The look in his eyes was too dangerous and exciting, and whatever lay behind them, I was curious to find out.
His green eyes had me under a personal spell.
"Why not?" I said with a smile.
Whatever ride he was offering, I was gladly hopping on.
And I did.
I slept with him that night.
The next morning, he made me pancakes.
Still, our love story wasn't one for the books.
Though he was charming and flirty, he was still emotionally unavailable and elusive.
As I walked him to the door of my condo late that next morning, he kissed me quickly, and said "Thanks for last night. It was fun."
"What are you doing later?" I asked, already planning on seeing him again.
"Uh...work stuff." He said.
"Do you want to maybe meet me later?" I asked, throwing on my sweetest smile.
"I don't know when I'll be done." He said non-committal.
And before I could get another word out, he kissed my forehead once more. "Thanks again. It was great."
He was out of the door, seconds later.
He didn't even ask for my phone number!
I knew then that it was meant to be just a one time thing, but I wasn't going to let it be.
I waited a week before publicly tweeting him despite being unable to get him out of my head:
JulieStClair: Just heard @Harry_Styles new song. Why is he always so damn amazing?
Less than an hour later, he was following me on the popular social media site and he DM'ed me privately.
‘What's your number?‘ he finally asked.
I was in his bed again a week later, but this time, it was clear, I would be seeing him again.
And I did.
Again and again.
Slowly, I began to break down the wall he built, not even knowing what had caused it.
Until I did.

We had been in New York at the time, about a month and a half into our 'dating', when he saw a familiar face at a restaurant.
By then, people knew we had ‘hung out’ and we’re calling us the new it couple.
At the time, outside of great sex and flirty conversation, we didn’t have that much.
But.
Every chance I could spend with him, I definitely did.
At the restaurant, he had been mid bite into his appetizer, when a girl popped up and punched him in his shoulder.
"Bro!" she cheered.
He turned quickly and I watched as his eyes widened.
"Oh my gosh, its been forever!" the girl said with a wide smile.
He looked terrified, but got up quickly to hug her.
She seemed really happy to see him and he hugged her, so I didn't get his pained expression.
"How have you been?" he asked her a second later.
"Good." She said and then noticed me. Her eyes raked up and down my body, studying me. Her smile faded.
Harry did introductions, uneasily.
"Uh Julie, this is Taylor. Taylor, this is um…my friend Julie."
This Taylor chick mumbled a quiet 'hi', but I wasn't focused on her.
My mind was immediately locked on the word friend. I was a whole lot more than that. The things he had did to me the night before telling a different story.
I immediately sat up a little straighter and instantly became defensive to who this chick was.
Was she an ex? Had she slept with him before?
Why were they so chummy?
She wasn't famous that was for sure, but she knew him- very well- and she didn't seem too happy to see him with me.
If looks could kill, I would be dead, buried and never found again.
"I've missed you!" she said turning back to him and quickly caught him up on her life, ignoring me in the process.
“Did you move here or something?” he asked her.
“No just here on vacation. You know the parentals would kill me.”
He smiled.
“Yeah? How is the family? Good?”
"Yeah, Becca's doing really good. She finally took your advice and is writing. She just got her own column. You‘d like it. You should look it up." The Taylor chick said and cut a look at me.
I looked at Harry.
A blind person could see the way his shoulders instantly slumped, and the way he looked away suddenly.
His whole mood immediately changed.
Running a hand through his hair, he tried to change the subject.
"Uh...what about your dad?" he asked. “Is he well?”
"He's good too. Dating again, and seems happy. How's your Mom and Gem? You‘ve got to them tell I‘ve finally got the recipe down."
He smiled. “Did you? Mum would like that. But they’re good. Everyone’s doing really well. ”
So she knew his family too…
Who was this girl?
He answered, but after that, quickly wrapped up the conversation.
The girl barely acknowledged me any further.
“I hope I see you again soon.” she said as a final greeting to him before rolling her eyes at me and walking away from the table. He was the only one who got a final wave.
Well fuck you too.
Harry sat down.
"Who was that?" I asked when he resumed his bite.
"Just a family friend." He said. "What were we talking about?"
I ignored him.
"How long have you known her?"
"Five years." He said and then took a sip of his water. His eyes started to shift around the room- his mind, somewhere else.
My mind was on his answer.
It was…interesting.
He didn’t answer ‘a couple years‘, like a normal person. He knew the exact amount of time which told its own story. This relationship was locked and stored; exact details memorized.
"Well she's pretty." I said a moment later to get a reaction. He wasn’t looking at me and I wanted his complete focus to solve this mystery.
He brought his eyes back to me giving me a curious look before smiling. Maybe he caught on to what I was doing. He looked back at me slowly.
"She's like my little sister Julie." He said.
"She's still very pretty." I said. And then I teased, "Come on, even I would date her."
He shrugged. "I guess. I’ve never really seen it."
"Why?" I asked curiously. Surely that was a lie if he hadn’t noticed her features. I wasn’t lying when I said she was pretty; in a mousy way.
"Because she's a baby to me. She literally use to crash at my house on the couch and her sister would kill me." He said absentmindedly.
"Why would her sister kill you? Does her sister not like you?" I asked naively.
He looked at me for a moment, as if it quickly registered what he said.
I don’t think that slip was intentional. The mention of the sister, seeming to have frozen him.
He cleared his throat and stirred his salsa dip he was eating.
"What were we talking about before?" he asked again.
I smiled. I wasn't moving on from this topic so easily.
I was a model, but the stigma that I wasn’t so smart, didn’t apply to me.
I caught on quick.
I asked again, ignoring him.
He sighed and again with a pained expression, turned from me.
Seconds later, he gave a low answer.
"No, her sister doesn't like me."
"What happened?" I asked in concern. Not for the 'sister' who was obviously an idiot (because who would want to miss out on the magic of Harry!), but for him, since he seemed really bothered by the whole thing.
"Nothing, we just broke up." he said.
And then it all fell into place suddenly: the shoulder slump, his terrified look and his need to move on quickly from the topic.
She was related to that Becca.

The Becca who he had been splattered on multiple papers with.
The same Becca who had been half of the infamous 'Hecca'.
The same Becca who he shared a matching tattoo with that I traced when he made love to me.
The same Becca he never talked about.

She had came up once, very briefly. As we had shared the clichéd conversation of ghosts of exes past, he had casually dropped, “I’ve only been in real love once.”
At the time, my mind naturally thought of the girl from the party and I wanted details. However as quickly as the conversation began, he shut it down.
“Doesn’t matter though,” he had said a second later. “That whole thing went to shit quickly.”
He had highlighted his phrase with a flirty dimple, and I hadn’t gotten much of a sense that he was still hung up on her or that he considered it that serious.
That would be my first mistake.
I wouldn’t make it again.
The next time his ex was brought up had been by his manager and best friend Jeff.
I had met him early and as we all sat having lunch about two weeks earlier, they had been discussing some event from their past, though Harry hadn’t caught on that quickly.
The details seemed foggy to him.
“When was this?” he asked in confusion as they tossed around stories like old college buddies.
“You know. Like two years ago. We took Becca and Glenne and the girls-” Jeff paused.
As he and Harry locked eyes, a secret message was exchanged and Jeff quickly stopped his thought.
“Oh who cares,” he had said revising quickly. “It was a long time ago.”
That was the day my interest was officially piqued.
Naturally now that I wasn’t as distracted, I would use this window of opportunity.
"Oh...so...have you spoken to her recently?" I asked, slowly.
"Who?" he asked.
"Becca."
His eyes narrowed when I said her actual name. I guess he figured somehow I hadn't known about her.
It was impossible, because she was all around us.
She was the ghost of his past, and though he never discussed her, I was well aware of her impact to his life.
From what I had gathered, in the small tidbits of his life, they had been serious. So serious, that she knew most of his friends, coworkers, and his family loved her. After the world found out about them, their lives had become very blended, and even now, I had come across pieces of her.
Hell, the second night we slept together, he had given me one of her old shirts to wear.
So Becca was someone of deep interest for me.
Still, Harry was reluctant to discuss it.
"You know what," he said smiling and switching gears. "Let's just change the subject.”
He quickly turned the charm on high.
“But why? Why don’t you want to talk about her? You guys were together a while right?”
He sighed and popped a chip in his mouth.
“She’s not apart of my life anymore. Shes not important.” he said with a dismissive shrug. "So…instead...let's talk about what were going to do tonight?"
His hand moved across the table, gripping my own.
"Tonight?" I said feeling a small smile creep onto my face.
He just grinned and winked.
"Yeah, when we go back to your place...tell me about all the naughty things you‘re going to do to me"
I instantly laughed and shook my head.
The boy was mischievous and always up to no good.
He laughed with me and the topic of Becca quickly faded into the background.
Plus, I was pretty satisfied with that answer and didn't probe him anymore.
The way I saw it, Becca was the past, and if I had my way, I was going to be the future.
*************************
That night, when we went back to my place, it didn’t take long for us to end up back in my bed.
Harry was a perfectionist with most things in his life, and after making my toes curl a couple times, I relaxed in his arms.
His hands trailed through my hair, and I was at complete peace.
“Did you enjoy your day off today?” I asked him.
“M’hmm.” he said under me.
In front of us, the TV was playing some Amy Schumer movie.
“What time do you leave tomorrow?” I asked.
For now, he was only in town to appear on Jimmy Fallon. His appearance had been the night before, so he was headed back to London in the morning.
“Around 11.” he said moving his hands down to rest on my back.
“That’s too soon.” I said sitting up and facing him. “I need more time.” I joked.
He smiled and pulled me back to him. Wrapping my legs around his small waist, his hands rested on my hips.
We were both still nude, and the contact between us was comfortable.
As my bare skin sat across his inked skin, I was once more awed by the number of tattoos sprinkling his body.
I typically didn’t like guys with tattoos and he sure had a lot of them, but somehow I found them strangely endearing.
As I rested my hands on his chest, the tattoo I despised the most looked back at me.
The tiny, fading black half of a heart; the ode to his time with Becca.
I was aware she had it located somewhere on her lower abdomen, where it had only been photographed once in a bikini. The private placing I’m sure something just for them.
I wondered often when they had got them, and what was the context.
Who had initiated the tattoo? Who had wanted the commitment?
They had never been engaged as far as I was aware, but the tattoo had its own promise of forever. Unless he got it removed, she would forever come across his mind when he looked at himself naked.
I wondered if he realized it back then, or had it been something of quick impulse- some temporary high they shared thinking it would foolishly be forever.
Tracing it now, it seemed to burn my fingers.
I wanted answers and the run-in with Becca’s sister hadn’t helped.
I couldn’t help but wonder if the dinner interruption was on his mind too.
“So I have some questions.” I said suddenly. “About your tattoos.”
His eyebrow wrinkled in interest and he squeezed my hip.
“Okay?” he questioned. ”Shoot.”
Scanning my hands over his body, I let my first question land.
“How many of these are personal to you? I mean…have a special meaning.”
His eyes shifted downward as if he lost his own personal count of the tales on his skin.
“A few.” he said. “Most was drunken, late nights bored on tour.” he joked.
“Do you regret any of them?” I asked a second later.
“No.” he said.
“Not a one?” I asked. At first glance he had a least sixty between his chest, arms, and even his feet.
He shrugged.
“I’m sure there’s some stupid ones in there…in fact, quite a few.” he said with a grin. “But I don’t know. I don’t really think about it. I’m kind of stuck with them.”
“So you would never get any removed?”
As I said the sentence, I purposely let my hand circle the tattoo I was referencing.
Seeming to caught my hint, he switched the conversation to me.
“What about you?” he asked. “Are you ever going to get one?”
“I can’t. Contracts and such.”
“Yeah.” he said. “A few of my friends in the past who modeled, they used white ink and they kept them tiny. It seemed to work for them, in case you ever wanted too.” he offered softly.
I nodded okay, but I didn’t want to discuss me, I wanted his stories.
“This is the one you share with Becca right?” I asked keeping my tone as casual as possible. My hand was still circling.
“That’s what they say.” he said. His tone dropped an octave. His eyes moved away from my blue ones, and focused on my belly button.
“So you don’t?” I asked, hoping he was confirming the rumor was untrue and that the tattoo had been a trick of light.
“No I do.” he said adjusting. He moved his hips, shifting me on him.
I couldn’t help but wonder if it was an attempt to get me to move off of him so he could run from this conversation.
“Would you ever get it removed?” I asked directly.
He winced.
“Uh…Don’t think so. I’m not a big fan of lasers.”
His tone was still light, but I could see the first flicker behind his eyes. He didn’t want to discuss this.
“But it’s so tiny. It probably would only hurt for a second.” I said with a small smile.
He shrugged and turned away from me.
I knew he was about to withdraw, but he surprised me with his next statement. It would be the first and last true admission I wouldn’t have to force out of him before the conversation would shut down.
“Yeah…” he said a second later. “But if I remove that one, then I have to remove the other one. And its quite large, so I’m a bit fucked with that one.”
He smiled up at me, but I was frozen.
There was another one?
Where?
My eyes instantly started scanning the scribbles, looking for the clues.
He didn’t have her name- only his godchildren- and I was sure the mermaid with the boobies out wasn’t her face.
Where the hell was it?
And what did that one mean?
My eyes continued to scan.
“Hey gorgeous?” he called a second later, calling my attention back to him.
We locked eyes, and within seconds, he gripped my hips and changed our positions.
Soon I was pinned between him and his mouth was connected to my left breast.
Sucking and kissing me a second later, I was once again lost in the sensation that only the drug Harry Styles could provide.
Becca who, my mind called as his fingers entered me soon after.
Once again, she pushed to the back of my mind, but as I would soon learn she wasn’t going anywhere.
My time with her was just getting started and that chick would be an awful thorn in my side over the next couple months.
I would eventually learn, maybe just maybe, I should have left him alone.
The spirit of Becca Penelope Johnson was alive and well, and soon, our relationship would start to be tested.

Notes

Let me know if you like the new players joinng the story.... :)