November.
What a month. A strange month really, it feels like it's just a stepping stone month for most people, it only has one "important" day and really that day is shit anyway so for most people it's just a month about food and pumpkin-flavored things.
I never cared much for November, never really gave it much thought. This November though, this one I would remember. Not vividly the way you remember December or your birthday month. Not wholly like the way you remember the first month in your own apartment or your first month at college. I'd remember it softly and in pieces.
The way you remember a scent or a laugh. The way you remember how it felt the first time someone held your hand. I would remember it when I needed it. When I needed a soft place to land, I'd come back to this November.
It started out full of love, that's probably what made it so good.
We flew in on a Thursday, got home, and didn't do a damn thing. We laid around the house for almost three days straight, we never left. We spent time in the pool, weeded the garden, decided to put up some more stringy lights, we shaped the hedge, and about 20 other random projects around the house or yard.
Mostly, we just drank wine and cooked delicious meals, and danced. We danced to our record, the one he made for my birthday. We danced to Georgia and remembered that very first kiss before the Grammys. We danced to I'll Be Seeing You and held each other a little too tight, grateful to have those memories in our past and not our present.
Harry almost impaled himself on a Swiffer WetJet while he was attempting to use it as a microphone to Be My Baby. Slippery feet on freshly mopped floors were a hazard to even the most graceful of creatures.
I choked on my goldfish laughing at him.
The first time we left the house was Sunday morning. We left in his convertible, and pulled up to the cafe with books in hand, ready to go. We were greeted with big hugs, excited questions, hot coffee, and warm croissants.
I sat with my back pressed to the window and my knees bent up so that I could rest my book on them. I mostly used my left hand to maneuver the pages and left my right hand free so that I could snack and sip my latte, and occasionally rest my fingers with Harry's when they came looking for me.
That whole Sunday remained perfect. We left the cafe after a couple of hours. I went and saw Nicki at her new job and got an incredible facial, I picked up a gift, and then I headed home to get ready.
When I got home Kanye West was playing quite loudly which made me smile. I kicked my shoes off at the door, set the beautifully wrapped gift on the kitchen island, and smiled as I ran up the stairs.
"Real friends
I guess I get what I deserve, don't I?
Word on the streets is they ain't heard from him, uh
I guess I get what I deserve, don't I?
Talked down on my name, throwed dirt on him"
Harry had on a pair of black dress pants undone, his torso was bare, and he was singing to himself in the mirror while he worked a pomade through his hair.
I glanced over and smiled at the warm-toned, printed shirt he'd be wearing which was hanging on the closet door next to my berry-colored dress. I smiled as I came up behind him and whistled at the sexy view in front of me.
"God daaaaamn!" I hollered while he turned to me and wrapped me into a steamy kiss. Both arms went around my waist and dipped me backward as he kissed me, we both came up smiling.
We spent another hour getting ready and before I knew it it was time to go. My hair was blown out but I had a clip in my bag for either myself or Harry, in case things got too warm later.
Mitch and Sarah's house looked exactly like it always did, like a home. It was cozy and inviting, a big fire in the fireplace gave their mid-century modern decor some extra warmth. Outside there was a small area cleared with a view of the woods, a beautiful rug laid on the deck, and a thousand stringing lights that created a glowing aura.
The wedding was everything I'd imagined for them. No more than 15 people, ceremony at golden hour, followed by a family-style dinner on the lawn and then drinks and desserts in the house while records played and people danced.
My favorite photo of the night is one I caught of Harry, Mitch, and Sarah all dancing together, but Harry's favorite is one that Mitch took of us.
I'd been dancing with Mitch's father and I collapsed onto Harry's lap in a fit of champagne giggles that led to smiling kisses. Mitch took the photo and it lives on the mantle of their fireplace now, which makes me very emotional to think about. I'm so lucky to be loved by them and to have been accepted into their little group so warmly.
The second weekend in November we decided to go to Napa for a few days. We stayed in a beautiful little house at a winery. The air in Napa was so different from Malibu, not salty and thick but clear and refreshing.
Harry had suggested it, just a weekend to get away from prying eyes and cameras. We could walk the streets here relatively unbothered. We could go to dinner or out to the shops and most people didn't even recognize him. This area was really busy in the summer, but November was much slower.
I loved that weekend, I'd go back there once a month if we could. We spent days taking tours, exploring vineyards hand in hand in the autumn sunshine. It was still warm because it always is, but it was comfortable.
The house we stayed in had breezy white curtains and pale blue bedding. It had an incredible wine selection of course, and a beautiful kitchen. I spent what felt like hours sitting in the large armchair just admiring Harry while he cooked.
He would sing along to whatever song was stuck in his head or he would create new songs and pause to send voice memos of them to Mitch and Tom.
He looked beautiful here. It was inspiring. The greens and deep burgundy shades mixed with champagne and soft pale blue made me want to paint them on his face. I wanted to create art on my most beautiful canvas, and it didn't get any better than him.
I started adding ideas to the growing list in my notes app of all the products I wanted to find to create with.
The cosmetics industry was so oversaturated for a few years that a lot of products were shit quality, or they were branded terribly, or they were unethical, or they weren't user friendly or gender fluid, meaning a huge market was left out. It was frustrating as an artist, I wanted anyone to be able to pick up products and know how to use them the way they wanted.
Harry and I had a really good conversation about it over dinner one night. He hasn't been part of the mass consumer market in so long that it's hard for him to relate to what "normal" people experience in life. That night I held my glass of cabernet up in front of my face and closed one eye, lining it up to his cheeks.
"I want to put this exact color on your cheeks," I said.
"I'm sure you've got one like it in your collection, you can put it on as soon as we get home." He answered.
"I do have one similar but I don't use that brand anymore. The owner is pretty shit and lied about the way they source their labor. I'm sure I could mix a few other things together though and get something close."
"What do you mean" source their labor?" Isn't most of it all made in factories with machines?"
"A lot of it, yeah, but that company was paying their employees under a livable wage and making them work in unsafe conditions for horrendous hours. It's unfortunately very common in a lot of large brands. The makeup industry can be very ugly."
"That's horrible. I never really thought about it. Never really thought much about makeup at all really."
"That's not surprising."
"Why not?"
"Well, almost all cosmetic brands are marketed toward women, and the ones that aren't are typically brands that create very dramatic and bold collections. There's nothing wrong with that, but I'd love to see a brand for everyday makeup that is marketed to everyone."
He nodded at me with a small smile on his face and said "You're excited, tell me more." So I did.
"I'd love to use a brand that teaches people how to use the products. Simple, easy-to-use products, with a focus on education, would be so exciting. I want someone who's transitioning to be able to go out and buy a product to color correct areas with stubble and be confident in using it. I want a person to be able to pick up products that will actually show up on their skin tone, products that complement the different colors and textures of skin, that are beautiful and also ethically made. I want people to understand that anyone can wear makeup, and it doesn't have to be a crazy colorful artwork on your face if you don't want it to be, it can be subtle, it can soften or define features to make anyone look exactly how they feel. I want products like that and I want education for people, queer communities especially, it's so neglected."
"What do you mean?" He asked while he ate another chunk of bread.
"When I worked at the drag club they would tell me how most of them only learned how to do one kind of makeup, they only knew how to do drag looks. Some of them are gender fluid in their day-to-day lives and the only way they knew how to put on makeup was a full drag beat. They learned from other queens or youtube videos, but they never learned how to do makeup that was just for daily wear. I watched grown adults cry when I finished their faces because they could go out and look natural and effortless and still look beautiful while being comfortable because their skin could breathe. It breaks my heart that they didn't have that until their thirties."
"So like education classes? Youtube videos, things like that?" He was truly precious for listening to me ramble and rant about this for so long.
"Yeah, I think videos would be great. I think in-person classes would be even better. Can you imagine a class full of people who just want to learn? All different ages, identities, backgrounds, it would be beautiful to bring like-minded people together in communities like that." I was talking a mile a minute in between bites of my pasta which was getting cold.
"So do it." He said it like it was so obvious like it was a "duh" moment.
"I mean I would love to if I could, but-"
"No "but," you can."
"Well not really, I mean-"
"You can."
"Well-"
"Jo."
"Harry?"
"You can."
"Would you want to do it with me? I don't even know where I would start."
"You don't need me, but I'll gladly invest in it. You'll have my full support in it however I can help."
"I-, um. Wow. I don't- Uhm. I don't know what to say. I'm...I'm a little overwhelmed."
He smiled at me and got up from the table to crouch down beside my chair. He brushed my hair behind my ear and flicked the tip of my nose with his finger.
"Jojo, baby, relax. Think on it, dream on it, figure out exactly what you'd want to do, and when you're ready we'll make it happen, okay?"
I didn't know what to say, my mind was racing and completely overwhelmed, so all I could say was,
"I love you so much." as I looked down at him.
"I love you, Darling. I love your heart and your beautiful mind, and the things you're going to create."
I'd never felt more loved in my entire life.
The next morning I was woken up by birds chirping, like a fucking princess. I woke to sunlight peeking through the curtains, quiet stillness in the house, and soft wheezing noises from the naked man beside me.
I yawned and cringed at my rancid morning breath, then I kissed the soft skin of Harry's temple and I rolled out of bed. I felt like a damp, stinky, gym sock after the previous night's sexy activities, and I was in desperate need of a hot shower and a toothbrush.
Once that situation was handled I slipped on a blue button-up dress, clipped my hair back to dry, and made my way to the kitchen to fix some breakfast.
I stood staring into that fridge for at least six full minutes having a conversation with myself before my rational brain won.
This is fucking stupid. Make them. She doesn't fucking own pancakes, make you and your hot ass boyfriend some god damn breakfast. Don't be a little bitch.
So I made some fucking pancakes. I also made eggs, bacon, and cut up some fruit. When I had the pancakes buttered and piled high on a plate I took a photo of them and sent it to Frankie. He promptly responded with:
reclaiming pancakes like the fucking queen you are, I love this for you. lick syrup off his dick for good measure just so he never pulls that shit again. xo.
I should have expected that.
Harry emerged from the bedroom just in time, freshly showered and dressed, looking as handsome as ever.
"And she cooks too? My god, I picked the right woman to love. Think I'll keep you around for a bit, yeah?" He shot me a wink and then he carried plates out to the deck so we could eat in the sunshine. I followed closely behind him with a red carafe of coffee and our fruit.
He got himself water and stopped to kiss me as he went by, "I love you in the mornings," he said.
"Don't you love me all the time?" I pouted.
"You know I do. I just love you extra in the morning to make up for the morning breath."
"Asshole." I swatted at his chest.
"Mm, angel." He kissed me again until I smiled into him.
We sat and talked while we ate, we caught up on some news, we chatted about our friends, about the wedding, and how happy we were for Sarah and Mitch. We talked about painting the laundry room, I thought it would be fun to paint it pink, and he agreed.
We talked about what he planned to do with his time off and he said he wanted to branch out a bit, he was considering looking at acting again in the future, but for now, he just wanted to enjoy his days.
He wanted to enjoy them with me, and he did.
We left that little house in the vines after four nights and returned to the salt air and the flashing cameras. There was comfort in the traffic. Sitting still in the city of angels, singing along to the music with Harry drumming on the steering wheel.
The third week of November we spent with family. We flew my father and Miranda in, they stayed with us for a few days and even overlapped with Gemma when she came for a visit.
We hosted our own version of Thanksgiving a week early. We had a large dinner party with almost everyone we considered family. My dad, Miranda, Nicki, Frankie, Pete, Tommy, Gemma, Mitch, and Sarah. I facetimed Anne while I cooked to ask her about a million questions, and she answered all of them because she's an angel. I was very excited to see her again.
We had a whole week of family. Our house was full of food and laughter and stories. I heard my dad tell stories I never even knew! He told Harry he used to play guitar which was news to me. He told stories of my mom and the adventures they had long before I ever came around.
We took a lot of photos that week that now scatter our home, hung on the walls or resting on shelves, some even stuck on the fridge. There's one of Harry and I that I love that now lives on Harry's piano, tucked into the music stand.
Miranda was in her element, talking non-stop. She kept Gemma occupied for hours, and she talked Frankie's ear off. I caught the two of them whispering amongst themselves while they stared at me on multiple occasions, but each time they looked so happy for me that I had no reason to be upset.
We played board games almost every night. I loved it, Harry was a competitive shit and it drove him nuts that I would just quit.
"I'm not competitive if I know I won't win," I told him. He looked at me like I'd absolutely lost it.
"So you'll just quit!?" He was baffled.
"Yeah. What's the point in playing if they'll just win anyway? Why would I waste my time?"
"You're a monster." He said, jaw slack and eyebrows furrowed.
"No baby, just an Aries. Close though." I shot him a wink and got up from the table. My dad was cackling in laughter, very much used to my antics.
Saying goodbye wasn't any easier than the last time. I still cried a bit, hugged them a little too tight, and felt my heart tug as I watched them walk away, but I knew we'd see them again soon.
The next week I spent a lot of time in my office. I spent a lot of time writing out what I wanted, a mission statement of sorts. I wrote a million different name ideas and scrapped all of them, none of them seemed to fit. I attempted to draw out some packaging ideas, but I can't draw for shit so that was a bit of a bust.
The longer I let myself think about it, the more I wanted it. The longer it lived in my brain, the stronger that longing became to bring it to life. My mind ran non-stop, thinking of the classes I could teach and the people I could bring in to model.
I knew Miley would be down, Austin would probably do it, Harry obviously, I think Lizzo would too. I knew I could always use Dante, he was always up for being the center of attention.
I'd love to work on models with mature skin too, that entire market is left out as well. For that whole week, my mind just turned and turned and turned. I let my imagination run wild and dream up everything I had ever wanted.
It was an incredible feeling to not limit my dreams, to not taint them with reality or self-deprecation. As I was writing and typing and building this dream it wasn't even my own voice that kept me going, it was Frankie's, and Harry's, and Miranda's, and my grandfather's. Instead of treating myself down, I spoke to myself as they would.
By the time the real Thanksgiving rolled around I was ready for a break. I woke up that morning curled into Harry's warm chest. His fingers were gently tracing the curve of my back, and his other hand rubbed up and down my thigh as it was hitched over his hips.
"Good morning, darling," he muttered in his low rumbling morning voice that always makes me shiver.
"Hi baby," I smiled into his chest and gently kissed my way up to the swallow tattoo and then as high as my neck would comfortably stretch from my position.
"I'm so fucking in love with you." He said as he pulled me on top of him. I left my head resting on his shoulder, let one leg fall between his, and hitched my other over the side of his hips.
"Sometimes it doesn't feel real that I finally get you like this. I can't even tell you all the times I woke up next to you and my hands burned, aching to touch you. I was torturing myself."
"You should have stopped asking me to sleep in here then!"
"No!" His arms wound around my back and waist, holding me tight against him.
"I wanted you in here, I wanted you close to me. I told you months and months ago, I want you around all the damn time. I'd wake up with you in my bed and for a few minutes, I could just dream of this. It was torture, but it was also my favorite part of every day. And now, here you are. I get to love you."
"Harry, please don't make me cry at 7:30 in the morning."
"Alright. alright, let's throw on some clothes and head to the beach, yeah?"
I nodded, smiled, and rolled myself off of him and out of bed.
I slipped on a pair of yoga pants, a ridiculously comfortable bra, and my trusty t-shirt. The design was cracking from all the washes, but you could still tell what it was. I smiled as I twisted my hair up into a bun and secured it with a clip.
Grabbed a zip-up sweatshirt, my oldest pair of checkered vans, the same blanket we always take to the beach, and I was ready to go.
"What the fuck is on your shirt?" Harry snorted through a laugh as I made my way to the living room.
"Hm? Listen here Styles, I spent a small fortune on contraband merch. If you think I'm not wearing it just because I'm dating you, then you are sorely mistaken. Put some respect on my heavy metal One Direction shirt."
He was laughing so hard that his nose was all scrunched, his eyes were all crinkled, and his bunny teeth were on full display. "That's fucking incredible. Oh my god, please never stop wearing them on my account."
"Your narcissistic ass will thrive with me as a girlfriend, this is terrible for your ego."
"Should we hang your air freshener back up?" He could barely get the question out while he laughed.
"Fuck yeah I'll put it back up, but you have to put up yours. You better not have thrown it away!"
"I would never! Do you know how much I paid to get that made and delivered that quickly? It's basically an heirloom at this point." He grabbed the keys, grabbed the picnic bag he packed, and ushered my ass out the door.
As soon as we got in the car he started digging in the center console until he found what he was looking for. His smile beamed as he hung my face from his rearview mirror.
"I can't believe you fucking did that, you are so ridiculous."
"It made you smile, and it made you more comfortable with me, and it made you like me more, didn't it?"
"There was no possible way for me to like you more Harry, I've been obsessed with you for like a fucking decade!"
"With an idea of me! It's really scary being on the other end of that! What if I didn't live up to the version of me you created in your head? What if I ruined that admiration you had? It's a lot of pressure on my end!"
"Hm. I guess I hadn't really thought of that."
"See? The mirror ornament helped."
"I suppose it did."
"I love it when I'm right."
"Oh, shut up and drive."
The beach was exactly what we wanted. Kind of windy, a bit chilly, and almost completely empty. We set up our spot and bickered almost the entire time because Harry didn't pack enough things to hold the corners of the blanket down.
We figured it out though and we settled in together to watch the waves and eat our food.
"I did something the other day," Harry said.
"Oh yeah? What kind of something?"
"I talked to the wind like you do."
"You did!? Did you like it?" I found his hand and twisted my fingers through his. I was laying in his lap between his legs while he sat, so I rested our hands near my cheek.
"I did like it. It was a bit strange at first but it got easier. I'd only done it that one other time with your grandfather, but it did feel different when I spoke to my loved ones. How is that possible? How can the wind feel different depending on who I'm talking to in it? Why does this wind right now just feel like wind?"
"I don't know. I don't have those answers for you. But, I was once told that our minds and our souls are much more powerful than we'll ever know and sometimes they just know things that we don't. Sometimes there isn't an explanation, there's just the truth."
"When I was little I was convinced that animals understood me, that they just knew I was a good person. I was convinced that trees could hear me too and that they cared what I had to say. I thought the entire world revolved around me, it was all working and ebbing and flowing for me. The same person who told me that there was no explanation for things also told me that I was right. My whole world did revolve around me. Who knew? Maybe animals did understand me, maybe trees did want to listen, maybe my grandfather is in the wind. Maybe he does answer me and comfort me and listen to me, who's gonna tell me I'm wrong?"
"Did Gramps tell you that?"
"No. His wife did. Gramps was wonderful, and I'll never know a love like his again, but my Grandma? She was magic. She's not in the wind though, I don't feel her there. She's just everywhere. Like she was scattered and dusted over every single part of the universe. Sometimes I wink at a star and I tell myself it's her."
"Have I told you today that I love you?"
"Oh, once or twice. I love you right back."
We stayed there until late in the afternoon and came home covered in sand. We built a sandcastle which we took way too seriously. We went looking for sand dollars, we rolled our pants up and stood in the freezing water, letting it wash over our feet.
That's the closest I've ever gotten to a religious experience, letting waves roll over me. I don't know why but I think the ocean has intention and it cleanses us, sometimes of things we don't even know we need gone.
It's the end of November now, just a couple of days left. It's Sunday, the 28th. Harry and I spent this morning at the cafe, we came home and worked for a few hours, and then we decided to eat dinner out in the backyard.
It gets dark so much earlier now, but the string lights kept us illuminated as we talked.
"Do you want to see one of my favorite spots in the city?" He asked me before we could pour a second glass of wine.
"Uhm yes. Duh."
"Right," He said through a smile.
"Come on then." He said.
I was expecting to hop into the Range Rover, maybe even one of the vintage cars, but I was not expecting to be handed a helmet when I stepped into the garage.
"Oh fuck! I always forget you have a fucking motorcycle!"
He laughed at me and nodded before getting himself settled on the bike and gesturing for me to follow suit. I sat behind him, closed my eyes, and held on for dear life before we even started moving.
"Are you okay?" He hollered.
"Yep! Might shit my pants but I'm fine!"
"We can take a car-"
"Nope! I trust you! It's fine, I'll feel better after a few minutes, just go."
"Okay!"
And away we fucking went.
Motorcycles are very sexy but also extremely terrifying for the anxiety-ridden people of the world. Turning? Not a fan. Hills? Not a fan. I can handle flat, straight land.
It was worth it though for this view. We've been up here for just a few minutes and I'm still just speechless.
We're at some kind of lookout, there are picnic benches and a big grassy area, but the real view is the stunning beach below us.
I saw the flash of his camera before I heard the click. I'm standing out in the grassy area, it's dark and still fairly warm so there's a lot of noise from the critters and the wildlife up here.
Harry is sitting on the picnic bench, looking out over the water as the tide shifts. I don't know how he always looks so beautiful but it's kind of rude. I snap a picture of him silhouetted by the sky and post it to my close friend's story, smiling at the content look on his face.
It takes just a few steps to join him on the other side of the bench. I sit close to him and lean into his shoulder as his arm wraps around mine. He brings his lips to mine for a few small pecks, soft and gentle kisses, before a lingering one that makes me shiver with goosebumps.
It's been a while, probably 20 minutes or so that we've been sitting here just listening to the waves, and the rustling leaves. Our breathing is synced together, calm and slow as we sit pressed close. It's well and truly dark now, probably about time for us to head back, which is what I'm about to say when Harry speaks up first.
"Jojo?"
"H?"
"How are you feeling?"
His question makes me smile, his genuine concern for my well-being is so comforting. My mind is turning again, trying to think of the right way to phrase how I'm feeling right now
. I'm in love, I'm supported, I'm in therapy and taking care of myself, my family and friends are all taken care of, I don't quite know what I'm doing with the direction of my career, but for the first time in my life, I don't feel limited. I know that everything isn't perfect, but it's as close as it can get for the place I'm in right now. I feel like a version of myself I always wanted to be.
Suddenly, I know exactly how to phrase it, I just hope that he understands what it means.
I lean away from him so that I can hold his perfect face in my hands while I kiss him again. Then I let a smile grace my lips while I look at him and tell him exactly how I feel right now.
"I feel like I'm flying."
_______________
hey, hi, hello
i cant do this yet so we'll do it after the epilogue, okay?
we'll see you next sunday.
i love you. i love you. i love you.
thanks for being here. always. -mo🤍🦋
also, there are 4 chrysalis prints available for digital download at coolwaycollective on etsy 🤍