A/N: Don't be too mad. And if you are, go ahead and watch the Late Night Talking MV. Can't be mad watching that video! Enjoy the double update, read Chapter 84 if you haven't already!
I can't think of anything better than sitting around a table eating family-style with some of our closest friends.
Even if the smell of the red wine is making my stomach turn.
I blame our afternoon delight.
Harry and his magical dick messed up all my senses. I'm a puddle of goo.
Tomorrow, we travel to Japan for their final two shows before heading home. And my goodness, I am so excited to get home and have Harry all to myself for a little bit.
I hadn't missed it before but I'm suddenly daydreaming of laying in bed, drinking coffee, and eating pancakes, both of which Harry will have to make if they want to be edible. It's the simple things that I miss in a world of flashing lights and Harry's Gucci suits.
Just our sweet little bubble, perfectly fit for two until we head over to London for the holidays and are reunited with his family and our fur babies.
But we still have some time before that.
Tonight we dinner party all together before we go our separate ways for a bit.
We are all sitting on either side of a long rectangular table. Harry's on my left, Benny on his other side, Monica, and Flo are opposite us, and the rest of the LOVE Band and crew managers fill in around the rest of the table.
Monica and Flo are getting on so well. Maybe a little too well, Mon isn't draped over Benny's shoulder as she usually is and Flo suddenly seems closer to her than she is to me.
It's not a competition Mia! Chill especially when Monica is beaming at you.
"Why didn't you tell me, this girl has game!" She exclaims from across the table.
"How was I supposed to know? I was very absent-minded to other people as a teenager." I look at Monica and a very red-cheeked Flo.
"Not entirely true," I feel his presence by my ear, careful for only me to hear. "If I remember correctly you and Flo have a little history."
"And this is hardly the place," I give him a pointed look.
He can embarrass me all he wants in front of other people but I won't let him drag others in his attempt to be cheeky.
Harry surrenders knowing that I've told him everything already anyway. She and I made out at a party when I was a teenager. It was during that short blissful time when Edmund wasn't in my life anymore and my family and I hadn't fled New York.
From what I can recall, everything we did felt nice but it's nothing compared to the spark that Harry and I create.
I'm still sore.
I turn my attention to Monica and Flo who have gone on bickering. "What happened anyway?"
"She got Patrick's number."
"Monica, it's not that big a deal," Flo tries to fend her off but Monica is like a dog with a bone, especially with some wine in her. "Remember the cutie from the bridge."
"Wait how did I not notice this!"
"I'm stealthy," Flo boasts herself up from behind her wine glass.
I chuckle, "and is Patrick?"
"Patrick, huh?" Harry suddenly inserts himself into the conversation, looking a little too curious. "'You all think so? How cute was he?"
"What's wrong, H? Are you jealous?" Monica has got it dead on but if I know their dynamic, neither of them will back down.
"Just curious, Monica. It's different."
Predictable.
"You do sound a little jealous," I lean on his shoulder, looking up at him through my lashes. "He might have strapped me in but I wouldn't want to be strapped to anyone but you."
"I'm not jealous. I'm glad you had a handsome instructor when you jumped off the bridge," he puffs his chest and sits back, jealousy looks odd on him. "Apparently he was so attractive that Flo thought to ask for his number." His words make the people around us laugh, something I think he was attempting to do.
Then he leans into my ear so only I'm the one who can hear him. "At least she didn't ask for yours."
We're going to have to have another conversation, I see.
"She already has my number, H," what? Did you expect me to lie to him? "Are you jealous now?"
"He is really nice," Flo finally comments. "At least for the time we were up there. It's not like it's going to go anywhere serious."
"Why not? Did he seem like a prick kiwi?" Harry rarely assumes the worst in anyone... he's definitly retroactively jealous.
"No, Harry," she says with a deadpan expression, catching on with his shift in mood. "Patrick is a perfectly nice kiwi. The issue is, I'm flying home in three days."
I reach under the table and squeeze his knee, trying to comfort him.
"Love, I'm fine. I'm glad you had a good time."
"If you say so," I smile to myself, leaving my hand on his knee as I use my free hand to continue my entree. "Just know, I only have eyes for you."
A few moments later, I feel a plump pair of lips press against my cheek followed by his nose in my hair. "Fine, I'm a little jealous. Both of your history with Flo and of that lad with his hands all over you."
I roll my eyes, "his hands were hardly all over me. Certainly not like yours were a few hours ago."
"Details, but I'll only admit it to you, Love."
I take a moment to ponder before I respond. "Good, I think I like you being a little jealous. It's a nice change of pace from sharing you with hordes of your adoring fans every other night."
He winks at me with a goofy smile before placing his hand on mine under the table and returning to his food.
"Holy– Monica, did you see this?" Flo hands Monica her phone without further explanation. They both look down at the phone and then at me and suddenly I feel self-conscious.
"What?" I chuckle in defeat. "Is it another awful headline or something?" In my peripheral vision, I see Harry turn to look at me but I don't return the glance. We haven't discussed the constant negative press around my connection to him and I have no idea how to bring it up, I'm nervous too. "If so, I don't want to see it."
"Well fuck, we might have some competition, Flo," Monica states as if I haven't said anything.
"Competition?"
"Yeah, to be your bestie! First Flo and now this?"
"Monica you're not making any sense." Frustrated, I reach for her glass of wine and take an unsatisfying sip.
"Trust us, Mia. It's the total opposite of a bad headline." Flo hands me her phone, Kendall's Instagram profile on the screen. "Look through her stories."
I do. The first few are innocent, pictures looking out plane windows, one of her lunch, a mirror selfie.
"I don't know what you two are on about. This is just her life."
"Just keep going. Trust us."
Of course, I trust them. But I have no idea what they are going on about. Kendall is a friend but because of all the nasty comments online after I was so visible at the fashion show, I've made a point to stay away from social media. Nothing good can come from it for me these days.
Not wanting to ruin their fun, I click through the entries and suddenly there's one of me.
This can't be right.
Was she hacked?
"Oh my god. Is this real?"
"Very real," Flo nods with a hopeful look on her face. I haven't shared any details with her, I've barely shared the real truth of what's been going on with anyone, but she seems to understand just how much this can mean to me and it's nice. "I had no idea she was so nice."
"She is."
My attention isn't on them, I can't help but stare down at myself!
Through all this, I never considered that someone would come to my defense against the tabloids. I mean Monica and Hunter have publically declared their mutual disdain for them and their support for me but their collective follow count is less than 800, the DailyMiail and ENews! haven't picked their story up.
This is different. This is Kendall Jenner, famous supermodel from an even more famous family, and she's coming to my defense. She's publically supporting me.
That's more exposure than even Harry would get.
"You look stunning, babe." Flo is the one to pull me out of my trance. "Don't you think Harry?"
I had forgotten he was sitting next to me but unlike so many times before, when I look over, his face is stoic, not an expression of a man looking at a photo of his beloved.
"Harry?"
"Yes, it is." His words are clipped and that's it. He turns to his other side and starts talking to Benny as if none of this is happening.
"Thanks for showing me," I pass the phone back to Flo. "I should text her a thank her or something, right?"
Monica shrugs and Flo nods. "It's amazing that she did this for you. I mean does she directly respond to stuff like that?"
"No, she doesn't," Harry snaps lowly, without turning to directly face any of us. "It wasn't discussed."
Really charming, H.
I glance over at Harry who is obviously giving me the cold shoulder, again, and it pisses me off. "No, I don't think she does usually."
"Have you spoken to her about what's being said?"
"No. I haven't talked to her since the show. But it's not like what's happening is a secret. You'd have to live under a rock to avoid what's being said about me."
Harry and I have always been on the same page when it came to how public our relationship is. But the scrutiny has never been this bad, this direct, this threatening. Ever since I attended the fashion show, I've been overwhelmed and I'm not handling it as well as I always planned.
Distraction isn't helping anymore. I know I need to talk it out with someone, mainly Harry, but I haven't been able to.
I've been through a lot in my life, lost my family, been stalked and physically assaulted by my psychotic ex-boyfriend, completely changed my life on my own, and I even lost Harry for a short time.
That's a lot of shit.
I've dealt with all sorts of pain. I shouldn't allow faceless online trolls to get to me but it's been unavoidable and nearly unbearable.
When Zoey and I had our weekly phone meeting the other day, she reluctantly told me that my publisher has gotten a few letters from Harry's so-called fans. She didn't want to tell me what they said but I somehow convinced her that I was doing okay with everything.
To clarify, I'm not.
So she told me that some fans are mild and merely called for my publisher to discontinue my book. Others cranked it up a notch and asked for all copies to be burned. One person even offered to host the bonfire. And a couple simply said I should die.
None of them are very original if you ask me.
Thankfully my publishers are 100% behind me and won't let this bad press stand in the way of our working relationship, but to attack my place of work like that? It's so inappropriate.
None of this is appropriate.
The aftermath is reaching a level I never thought possible and it just won't die down.
Nasty direct messages on social media and side-eye disgusted glances at concerts I was prepared for, attacks on my life via my publisher, and salacious headlines with my face on international tabloids, I was not.
If I was going to make a cover of a newspaper, I just assumed Harry's would be next to me.
It's all getting too much.
Why do you think I jumped off a bridge?
It's all about distraction.
And Harry doesn't have a single clue about any of it.
That's why Kendall's story means so much to me. She acknowledged what has been happening when Harry hasn't or won't.
You haven't even discussed it with him yet.
Give him a rest.
I take a deep breath because that's also true.
I haven't discussed it with him because I don't want to give them more of my time, and I haven't been able to admit this to anyone yet, but I'm afraid of Harry's response when I finally do bring it up.
"Harry? Is everything alright?" I ask, knowing the answer.
"We'll talk about it later," his eyes bore into mine for just a second, telling me that he's pissed but everyone else that he's fine. "Is that alright, Love?"
His tone is most certainly not!
"Of course, H. Let's talk about everything later."
I give it a few minutes and I try to pick up a different conversation with those sitting around me but I can't. "Excuse me," I push my chair back and for a second time this week, I'm rushing to the bathroom anxiety and nausea overwhelming me.
***
I'm wiping my mouth with the back of my hand when I hear the door swing open.
"Mia, are you alright?"
"I've got it, Mon." Monica and Harry's voices follow in quick succession. Both of them make my heart race as another turn of nausea sweeps through me but my stomach is empty.
"I'm sure you think you do, rockstar, but don't think I missed your dickish attitude back there." Monica challenges him as only she can. "My promise still stands. If you hurt her–"
"I would never intentionally hurt Mia." Harry snaps in a hushed tone. "But this is a matter between me and her. Not you."
"Ah, you think so?" I can picture her leaning on the counter, arms crossed over her chest, cementing her feet to the floor. "Why don't we ask Mia? Seems like I'm the only one who's acknowledged her presence in here since you barged in."
"You barged in too and I was getting to that!"
"Well?"
Monica leaves the question in the air and waits for Harry to make his next move. Unfortunately for him, Monica is a determined adversary and won't back down and for the first time, I'm not sure I want her to.
"Mia, Love, can we please talk?"
"Ha!" Monica proclaims with a little too much glee, it almost makes me feel as bad as the wine. "In a public bathroom?"
"What would you suggest then? I pull Mia into a car and remain mute until we're in private?"
"You did after bunjy jumping." The words slip past my lips before I can control myself. I cover my mouth with my hands as if I can drag the words back in.
"You know why I did that." Harry's shoes cast a shadow under the lip of my door. "Mia, can we please talk about this?"
"And what is that exactly?" I whip the door open, hand on my hip, and glare in my eye even though the acidic taste in my mouth makes me feel anything but confident.
I hope they can't smell my breath.
Harry, now a man stuck between me and Monica, turns his head from side to side and takes a moment to look at each of us and then again and again.
"Well?" Monica urges him to answer. A little mean but he's acting so cold, I don't want to let that slide.
"Do we have to do that in front of Monica?" Harry begs me but I'm not in a very sympathetic mood.
"And what is that exactly, Harry?" My fierce bestie reiterates my previous unanswered question.
"It's a sensitive private matter, Monica. Now if you'll excuse us," he turns his back to her, eyes only for me. "Please Mia."
"Why shouldn't she be here? You had no trouble being ice cold out in front of everyone else."
"It was a kneejerk reaction." He drags his tongue along the inside of his cheek and purses his lips. "Because this is about us and despite appearances, this relationship is still ours. No one else's."
Something changes in his expression. Don't get me wrong, he's still pissed beyond belief but now there is something else, a pleading gaze in his eyes that tugs at my heartstrings.
"Monica, can you give us a moment?" Thankfully she leaves quietly, not without miming choking him behind his back on her way out, making me chuckle.
"What's so funny?"
"Do you really want to talk about all of this here, Harry?" I ask him honestly, hoping to avoid answering his question.
Right now is not the best time to bring up our very enjoyable sex life.
"It's not ideal but needs must," he looks around and steps over to lock the door before leaning against it, arms crossed. "Kendall shouldn't have posted that."
"Needs must?" I gawk at him before I step in front of the sink to wash my hands and rinse my mouth. "How very British of you."
"Is that your subtle way of saying there's nothing for us to talk about?"
"No, I believe we have a lot to talk about," I turn to him as I wipe my hands dry with a towel. "But I know this is going to turn into a fight and I'd rather not have that headline join all the others."
"See that's your problem, you read that shit. Don't give them your time."
"I read!? That's my problem?"
"I've always told you to ignore the outside noise, Mia. Focus on us, our bubble."
Easier said than done.
"Well, turns out I'm not so good at that when I have a world of fangirls wanting my head on a spike." I step up, toe to toe. "Now how do you advise I ignore that?"
I never should have gone to that flipping fashion show. That night caused all of this.
I watch him grind his teeth, wanting to speak but refusing to say a word.
"See, I told you this would turn into a fight and we can't do that here, now can we go back to the table and try to have a nice meal?"
"We don't have to fight at all," he suggests as he follows me out the door and through the restaurant back to our table.
"Yeah, I'm sure we wouldn't if I just agreed with you. But how about you simply agree with me?" He doesn't have a response as we sink into our seats at the table. "Because you won't do the one thing you expect from me, isn't that right?"
When he doesn't respond, I reach over and take his glass of tequila and take a big sip.
Fuck all if it makes me sick again.
"Harry, we'll talk about this in private, as we agreed." I set his glass down in front of his plate and breath down the sick feeling that's come over me. "Now if you'd like to enjoy the rest of this dinner, I think it best if we don't talk to one another."
It's harsh but necessary. And he agrees and for the rest of the night, we sit with our backs to one another.
***
Apparently, not talking for the rest of the dinner has only ignited my anger more. And to make matters even worse, I don't think we did a good job at pretending. The deserts came, communication was not had and a glass of red wine was spilled all over his cream trousers.
When it happened I could see he was about ready to burst but it wasn't because of the wine, it was just the catalyst that nearly broke the camel's back.
But we both somehow managed to keep our discomfort from breaking the surface.
It was a post defending me when he can't!
How can he be mad at that?
"I cannot believe you're mad right now. You have absolutely no reason to be!" I exclaim the moment the door clicks shut behind us, privacy achieved.
"No reason? I have every reason," he yells back, following me through the entryway. "Are you drunk?"
"Ha! That would be a convenient excuse, wouldn't it?" I turn on my heel and face him. "Unfortunately for you, I had two sips all night and neither of them was satisfactory. So no, you're just getting me and I'm pissed at your attitude."
"And I'm pissed you're not more upset about this!"
"Over what? You're seriously mad about a post! It was about me, not you!"
"That's where you're wrong, Mia. Kendall did a lot more than just defend you."
"You're not serious. Are you saying you expect me to be more upset of a post over..." I stare at him for a minute, hoping he'll correct me but it never comes.
Does he really not know? Or does he not care?
"Do you know how bad it's been?" I say quietly, trying to remain calm and not escalate this when we don't have to. "All the vile stuff they've been saying about me after I was seen at the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show? I know I haven't mentioned it but... well do you?"
"No," he snaps. "I don't make a point to seek out all the horrible things people I'll never meet, say about my girlfriend. Nothing good can come from that. I thought you would just ignore it."
"That's your grand solution? Ignore it even when it's thrown in my face every time I walk down a street or open my phone?" He shrugs and I start to pace about the room. "So if I'm following, I should become a shut-in and not go anywhere and disconnect from all media and technology. Is that right?"
"I didn't say that. I said you shouldn't look at that shit," he starts to pace as well, one hand pinching between his brows as he waves the other with a determined flourish. "None of it's true so why ruin your day by reading it?"
"Well, maybe you should take a look, Harry. I'm not asking you to defend me publically and I didn't ask Kendall to either but it's nice to know that someone is on my side and willing to show it to the rest of the world."
Yes, I just inferred that he may not be not on my side in this.
"That's not how I do things and Kendall knows that. All her post did was stir the pot and add on another week of bad press. It made things worse."
My heart is beating so hard, my chest hurts but I the rage within me pains me more.
Worse for who exactly?
"Maybe it did, but that post is also the first thing that has made me feel a tiny bit better about the backlash since that fucking show, so excuse me for being grateful for it." I storm into the bathroom and start to aggressively wash my face, scrubbing off this horrible night.
I'm rinsing the soap off my face by the time Harry arrives in the doorframe.
"So this is all about you?" I whip my head around, dripping wet, surprised, and appalled that he just went there as if we're not on a tour that holds his bloody name.
"So it doesn't matter to you that Kenny just announced to the world that you and I are together," it's his time to burst, his face redder than I've ever seen it. "Forgive me, I thought we were gonna confirm our relationship in our own time and in our own way but I guess you don't care about that."
"That's not even close to the point and it's not Kendall's fault that we didn't talk about how or when we were going to out our relationship." I turn back to my reflection and dry my face. "Yet again, it's another conversation we didn't have."
"Another conversation?" He asks slowly, staring at me as I try to stand tall under his gaze. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It's not meant to mean anything," I sigh, dropping the towel on the counter, defeated. "We're still working on communication and while we're getting better, we're still not great at it."
"That's a fucking lie," he laughs. "You meant the whole Camille thing but I'm sure to you, your history with Flo doesn't count"
"I don't care about your history with Camille! And I never had sex with Flo. It's different!"
I can't believe he just brought that up. AS IF what I did with her comes close to what he and Camille had.
I'm enraged.
"Perhaps, but I'm not expecting you to sit across the dinner table from Camille, am I?" My jaw drops to the floor and I push past him and into the bedroom. "And you do care or else you wouldn't be so defensive of Kendall's post when in fact, it's ruined everything."
"One has nothing to do with the other. It's ruined nothing."
"That moment was ours, Mia. We have little control over much else but telling the people the nature of our relationship was supposed to be up to us and she took that away. "
"How? How exactly did she take it away from us? Because I was at the show. Fuck, I've been at your every show. How exactly was she more obvious than that?"
"'HashtahTPWK' what else is it supposed to mean?"
"Exactly that, treat people with kindness! Something your fans aren't living up to," I go for the jugular, misplacing all the anger and hurt I have toward all those nasty strangers putting me down on him. "Great group of people you've got there."
I regret my last statement the moment I say it but there is truth to it. The loudest fans have been cruel and threatening. They haven't been treating me with kindness or understanding so am I wrong?
Right or wrong, my mouth keeps working, and much more fight in me.
"If you 'fans'," I double down with a pair of air quotes and an extra snippy tone, "haven't connected the dots by now, then you've given them too much credit."
"Attacking my fans now? Charming."
"The same ones who have been harassing me? Fuck yes, I am!"
"The people who hurt your feelings aren't fans of mine," he makes clear, brushing my accusation aside. "I wasn't defending them I'm upset about us."
He should be upset about their behavior as well!
I go quiet, my blood boiling. "Hurt my feelings? That's all you have to say about it?"
His silence overwhelms me. I'm about to burst... why am I holding back?
This is too much, he's being a prick and completely irrational on purpose.
"Her post didn't make me feel better about your fuck buddy, Harry, and she didn't take away your opportunity for some grand announcement," I scream in his face. "It made me forget for a few precious moments that people call me a money-hungry whore! Forget that your fans think I should go kill myself because I don't deserve to be with you. That they would rather see you with a pig wearing lipstick... oh wait you already are!" Before now I hadn't voiced any of the things I've read but, no matter how disturbing to me, he has to hear it.
I take a few breaths and a few steps back, pushing both my hands through my hair, feeling crazy for feeling this way but knowing that I'm allowed to be emotional.
I'm only human.
"It's fucking horrible Harry and I'm not handling it well," I finally admit to him and myself. "I had a panic attack at brunch. I was unable to not think about all of it. Their opinions just go round and round in my head, I feel like I'm going nuts. Why do you think I bungee jumped? Because I wanted a few moments when I was forced to think of nothing. It's hard and I know that their words don't mean a thing to the people who count but when I get so many of those direct DMS or see my face on newsstands every few blocks matched with snarky headlines, it gets to me."
"And why didn't you come to me with any of this?" He sounds more angry than concerned for me before he breaks out in a maniacal laugh. "Oh wait, because I've never gone through that. I have no idea what you're feeling." He counters sarcastically, "I couldn't relate at all."
My heart is racing so fast, that I start to feel dizzy. Hoping he doesn't notice, I reach out to steady myself and take a deep breath.
"I'm not saying you haven't but you had the other guys who were going through the same thing as you. It's just me dealing with this, so forgive me for appreciating that a friend will come to my defense."
"So I'll ask again, why didn't you come to me?"
Because I was scared of how you'd react.
But I don't say anything because I know how foolish that statement is. Rationally, I know he would be the supportive sensitive boyfriend I've always known him to be.
It didn't have to be like this.
"I didn't–" I stutter and take a step back, unsure of how to word this. "I wasn't–"
My mind is a shambles.
Fuck, everything since that show has messed with my brain, and now I can barely trust myself let alone trust anyone else, including him.
"Why did you read the comments in the first place, Love?" Thankfully he breaks the silence, gently, quietly, only it's not enough to calm me down at this point. "I've told you not to just so this wouldn't happen."
Jesus, Mia. Just take a breath.
Too hard.
"And we're back to ignoring it? It's a little too late for that Harry! It's not just comments and DMs, they are sending letters to my publisher. How was I supposed to ignore those?"
I've tried, but it doesn't work, the damage is done.
"Unless you want me to go on camera and refute the statements, yes, ignoring it is the only advice I have."
He is either numb to it all or has no clue just how bad it is and how badly I'm taking it.
I should have talked to him about it.
But I can't when we're both angry and not saying what we mean in any productive way.
We're going around in circles.
"You know what," I snap defeated, completely blind to how he's feeling. "I'm going to go sleep in Monica's room."
"You can't, Benny's with her."
"As if I care," I snap as I rummage for my pj's. "I'll go stay with Claire then."
"Mia you can't just leave. We're in the middle of something."
"I can't?" I could go on and bring on another layer of my aggravation toward him but, thankfully for both of us, I don't. "Harry, I don't feel well and I'd rather not fight with you anymore."
"Then let's not fight and let me take care of you."
"So you just want me to surrender?"
"No, that's not–"
"And what if I'd rather just have a girl's night? Do my feelings not matter?"
It's not true, I'd much rather sort this out with him but we're going around in circles and I feel sick and I'm tired and I just don't want to fight anymore.
His whole body deflates, exhausted and at a loss. "Fine go have a girl's night but we both know that's not why you're leaving."
I roll my eyes, annoyed that he's right. "Goodnight Harry."
"Goodnight Mia."
___
A/N: I told you we were entering dramaville and we will be for a little while. I'd apologize but these two aren't perfect and they've got to grow and they will and they will be stronger and more understanding for it.
Alright, on to the final show of the Fine Line era.
I love the LOVE Band then and I love them now.
Hello, dream job.
I am enjoying his Harry's House fits, but I miss how these vests moved around the stage.
Sticky fingers.
All I'm saying is he has more chemistry with Mitch. There I said it.
He tried this a few times during the Fine Line era of tour and he was determined to get it before he went home. And he did! He's an alien.
And there you have it, Love On Tour, Fine Line Edition, is over. I don't think I'll ever have a better all-around experience in terms of getting tickets, meeting friends, the shows, etc. it all went so perfectly. I was very lucky. Not that I won't love Harry's House Love on Tour shows but it's already come with a lot of heartaches (I LOATH Ticketmaster with my entire being). Fine Line was my lucky streak and I miss it. BUT I am obsessed with Harry's House so please don't take this as me putting all that he's doing in Europe down. Honestly, this has everything to do with my beef with Ticketmaster! I FUCKING HATE Ticketmaster. There, I said it and I'm not sorry. That being said, if any of you have connections with Ticketmaster, I would love some help getting off their shit list.
Be safe and kind to yourself and others.
VOTE + COMMENT + SHARE
All the love, C.