July 2, 2018
Sitting on the edge of the tub, I ensure my head is firmly over the toilet bowl, even though the dry heaves have passed. Harry is perched next to me, his hand rubbing over my back as he repeatedly murmurs nonsensical words.
Finally, my stomach settles, and I'm able to draw air in. Standing, I take Harry's hand and lead him to the sofa in the living room area. No way am I having this conversation in the bathroom. Settling comfortably onto the elegant cushion, I tuck one leg under the other, tightening the bathrobe belt as Harry nervously perches facing me. I gulp from the glass of wine he's left for me.
"Harry, my love," I begin, taking his hands in mine. "We knew this day would come...." His eyes well up with tears, and I tilt my head to examine him. "Wait," I wonder, "Why are you crying?"
"Fuck, Brains. All along I told you that being in a public relationship was going to be bad news. And now we're out there for everyone to see."
"So?"
His eyes lock on mine. "What? What do you mean 'so'? My girlfriend is in the bathroom ready to chunder."
I stroke my hand along the bristles growing on his cheek. "Harry, my love," I repeat, "That was a first reaction to the ugliness, but I've got tough skin. I'll get used to it."
"But the fans...." he begins, and I scoff.
"Will either love me or hate me. Few will be indifferent. After all, they love you and want what they think is best for you. What are you planning to do? Live your life alone because of your fans?"
My hand has slid behind his neck, and I stroke the curls there, wrapping them around my fingers and allowing them to bounce back into position as I wait for his pronouncement.
"Well....no. But I don't want you to have to go through that kind of negativity all the time just because you're dating me."
Tilting my head, I allow my eyes to roam over his face. His cheekbones are flushed with concern, and his jaw is tight with frustration or anger. I can't yet tell the difference. Bangs have fallen over his forehead, and I want to brush them away or fill my fists with strands of his hair and just yank until it grows to the length of when we first met. I love this man so very much. He's willing to put his own happiness aside for mine.
"Listen to me, Butterfly Boy," I insist. "I can handle anything if you are by my side. Now that my name is out there, the fans won't leave me alone even if we never see each other again. So we might as well move forward. See if we can make a relationship work in spite of a few negative and vocal fans."
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, Harry leans forward to kiss me. As our breaths mingle, he whispers, "I love you, Brains." Kissing me lightly on the nose he repeats, "I love you." His lips fall on my jaw. "I love you." Finally he allows our lips to meet, and I am lost to him. Harry, the hurricane sweeping across the land, leaving flooding, tornados, and devastation in his wake. But also renewal and life and a fresh start.
Leaning me backwards on the sofa, he nudges aside my robe, taking my left nipple in his mouth. Shocker! My sarcastic brain chooses to call him out.
"What if we have kids and your son prefers the left nipple too, Harry?" I ponder, my head tilting back as my lady bits sit up and pay attention to his actions. "How will you cope?"
"Ummmm....I'm still the man in this family, and that one is mine," he announces as though declaring war, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip.
I laugh out loud, holding his face in my hands as we lie half on the sofa in this elegant hotel with Beatles memorabilia all around us.
"Yeah, okay. Deal." I promise. "Now does this mean you're willing to go all in? I know you said it before, but now that word is out, are you still up for it?"
Harry sits up, straightening his workout clothes. Confused, I pull my robe closed and prop myself against the side of the sofa, crossing my arms defensively. After what feels like hours, Harry turns to me, tucking his left leg underneath his right thigh and resting his left elbow on the back of the furniture.
"There's more at stake for you than me," he reminds me.
"Yes," I reply, "There is. I am in danger of losing the love of my life over some stupid comments on Twitter. There is a lifetime at stake."
His faint smile is tinged with sadness. I watch as his eyes shift around the room. "I went through this, baby." The pet name still sends my tummy into a series of flips that might win the Olympic gold medal in gymnastics, and I try to tone my response down.
"I know you did, Harry. Which is why I know you'll be able to assist me in navigating the waters ahead," I urge.
I watch as his eyes appraise me carefully, so I attempt to keep my face as open as possible, not wanting to give him an opportunity to find an excuse to turn me away.
With a deep sigh, he speaks, "You know that there are people who think I'm madly in love with my 1D bandmate?"
"Yeah."
"And you know there are people who will swear that I am too young to commit?"
"They might be surprised to find you were committed to me for two years," I remind him. "Look. I don't care about any of what they say. All that matters to me is that you love me and that we face every adversity together. United."
If he had hesitated, I'm not sure what I would have done. Instead, he captures my hands and gazes into my eyes. "Got it. Together. You and I."
Which prompts me to start singing, "You and I. We don't wanna be like them. We can make it 'til the end. Nothing can come between you and I."
Harry laughs and continues the verse with me, "Not even the Gods above can separate the two of us. No. Nothing can come between you and I."
We dissolve into giggles and then order room service, putting on a movie while we wait for food to be delivered.
==========
May 3, 2019
"Here's your coffee, love," Harry hands me my cup as I sit up in bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Gratefully, I take the dark liquid from him.
"Thanks, H. Has the segment been on yet?"
"You honestly think I would let you sleep through your television news debut? Nope. But it's supposed to be up next."
My boyfriend looks spiffy in his workout clothes as he perches on the side of our bed in our New York apartment. He looks way more nervous than I feel as the commercial ends, and Hoda Kotb appears on-screen talking to Savannah Guthrie. Taking a sip of my hot beverage, I put the cup on the bedside table, folding my legs into a criss cross position as I rest my elbows on my knees, leaning forward. Harry's hand rubs over my back.
"The Met Gala is Monday night, right?" Savannah begins. "Hosted by Harry Styles, Lady Gaga, and some other people."
"It is," Hoda adds in, "but none of them would speak to me with all of the secrecy around the event. All we know is the camp theme."
"You got a chance to talk to Vanessa Johansson, girlfriend to the famous host Harry Styles earlier this week. What's she like?"
Hoda adjusts her legs on the high stool, "To be honest, Savannah, I think his fans are going to be disappointed." My heart drops to my knees, the coffee settling in my stomach like an ocean of oil, clinging to the sides as it sloshes back and forth. Here I had thought we'd had a lovely chat.
"Oh, no! Is she really awful?"
"That's the worst part! She's amazing. I found her to be brilliant, funny, and with an incredibly kind heart as I caught up with her on Tuesday during a run of the Coalition for the Homeless' Grand Central Food Program."
Savannah clearly struggles to understand. "Then why will Harry's fans be disappointed?"
"Because there's no way he is stupid enough to let this gem go which takes him off the market. Let's take a look," Hoda reveals, and I gasp at her words, my eyes filling with tears.
The opening scene is of Marvin and I passing out food on the downtown route, then cuts away to a closeup of the older man's weathered face, "I got off the streets thanks to this woman behind me," and the camera focuses on me in the background as I continue to distribute the food. My black jeans are paired with a bright yellow Treat People with Kindness shirt as I chatter with a woman whose face is blurred out by editing. Myra must not have wanted her picture shown as the crew was gathering releases from the recipients.
Marvin's words continue, "Van inspires me daily."
Hoda speaks over the footage, "Vanessa Johansson is not like a typical popstar's girlfriend. She's more likely to be found in a soup kitchen, clothing distribution center, or...." there's a dramatic pause, "a courtroom." There's footage of me in the law offices at MPP. "As an entertainment lawyer since 2014, Vanessa has met and represented many celebrities, but it's the one she dates that garners the most attention."
The screen switches to a picture of Harry, handsome from his Dunkirk movie premiere in New York nearly two years ago. "The former boyband member used his famous roots as a member of One Direction to build a successful solo career in music with a sold out tour and platinum debut album. He was also," the footage is that of Harry on the beach filming Dunkirk and standing next to Christopher Nolan, "a star in one of 2018's Oscar-winning films, Dunkirk. He's the face of fashion designer Alessandro Michele for Gucci," and stills from the Cruise campaign flash on the screen, Harry cuddling animals. "But it's his girlfriend that should garner attention these days as Harry prepares to host the 2019 Met Gala."
"I'm no one," my face on screen states, and I'm astonished at how flat I look, my cheeks somewhat rosy. "My career as a lawyer in New York originally and now primarily in Los Angeles provides me with opportunities to help others, so that's what I try to do." We had filmed this part in my office at MPP, settling into my conference room with a huge bouquet of flowers from Harry on the table behind me and the light from the window reflecting on my law credentials. For this interview, I wanted a power color, so I had worn a bright pink fitted pants suit with a black blouse underneath.
"She shows me her memorabilia from events she's been able to participate in since being linked with Styles. Charity events and fundraisers reveal her business side, as she dresses to impress, garnering support for those less fortunate," Hoda's voiceover runs while the video of her and me examining charts of fundraiser proceeds plays on the screen.
"Why homelessness?" she asks me.
I sigh, pushing my hair behind my ear, squinting at her. "Why not? It's not a particularly glamorous or sexy charity, but there are people in the world who need our help, and if I can contribute in some small way, why wouldn't I? I live by the motto 'Treat People With Kindness'."
"Has dating Harry helped with that goal?"
"Oh definitely! But not in the way you think. Sure, he's opened some doors, but I have clients in the entertainment industry who are always willing to support charity work or invite me along to events where I can get the message out that these are people who need a boost in life." Biting my lip, I cannot take my eyes off of the screen me. I'm terrified I'll say the wrong thing, even though I know exactly what had been said during the interviews.
"Then how?"
"Well," and the me on television licks her lips, "When he joins me at food pantries or handing out clothing, we tend to share a lot of laughter which makes the recipients smile. Everyone gravitates to Harry's charm, and he's genuinely interested in their stories. He gives them hope."
Hoda's narrative continues as we return to the streets of New York City, as I speak quietly in the background to Anita and her daughter who are struggling with new homelessness, having recently lost their apartment. "As does Vanessa. She listens to people out here, and word is that's what makes her truly special."
The camera cuts away to Marvin again, "You know, plenty of people walk right past someone down on their luck, never even giving them a glance. Vanessa -- well," he tears up, and I find myself doing the same, "she stops, talks to them, gets to know them. Even if it makes her late for her next appointment. They remember her. She'll always have a special place in my heart." I blink, which encourages the moisture to flow down my cheeks, and Harry reaches for a tissue, handing it my way. Haphazardly, I wipe at the dampness.
"It's quite the difference in your two worlds," Hoda remarks to me, back in my office.
"Yes." I cringe in current time, knowing I stumbled over the next part of the sentence, "At times, I feel the inequity more deeply. It's really challenging to leave a movie premiere in a dress that cost several thousand dollars and walk past a woman who has shoes with holes in them. And don't get me started on how ludicrous it is to raise money at giant fancy events."
"But you're working to change that?" Hoda asks, and I nod.
"The 2019 Art Walk will be staffed entirely by those who used to live on the streets but are now in provisional housing. I've also started a bi-coastal charity that works to put artists into jobs where they can intern as they continue to learn from a master." My words sound stiff to me.
"Oh yes! I've heard about this. It's called Creative Boost. Word is that you're wearing something for the Met Gala designed by a woman in the program."
Even though she doesn't phrase her comment as a question, I take it as one. "Yes. I'm excited to announce that my outfit for the event has been painstakingly fashioned and sewn by a collaborative effort of three designers from the Los Angeles chapter of Creative Boost. Their names are Susan Benedict, Teina McDowell, and Garrett Bennett, and I'm really excited to show off what they've created. It's going to look amazing next to Harry's Gucci ensemble."
Hoda's eyebrows raise, "Give us a hint about what he's wearing?"
On camera, I smile, and here in our bed, I repeat the action because I know what's coming. "Something campy," I reply, my eyes flashing with laughter.
The segment ends then, and Savannah speaks, "Wow. She's quite the minx, isn't she?"
"A bundle of lovely contradictions," reveals Hoda. "I found myself drawn to her more as our time together grew longer. She's as comfortable on the streets speaking to these individuals and passing out love and Blessing Bottles as she is behind her desk at her prestigious law firm."
"Blessing Bottles?" her co-host asks.
"Oh, yes! Vanessa will be joining us in two weeks to share how to make those for distribution this summer. You won't want to miss that segment."
A commercial fades back in, and I collapse backwards on the bed, relief washing over me. "Whew. I'm so glad that's over with," I mumble, throwing my arm over my eyes.
"Over with?" Harry queries, "Baby, with that kind of charisma on television, I would say this is merely the beginning."
I smile at him as he leans over, capturing my lips with his, deepening the kiss as he starts to strip my clothes from my body. I reciprocate.
Later, sated, I scroll through the text, voicemail, and email messages from clients, family, friends, and other news services.
One of my clients who had previously not been very encouraging, sends me a text message, "You're one of the few who can handle fame just fine! It looks good on you." I reply with a simple smiley face emoji, the one with chubby red cheeks to show I am pleased at his words.
"You already had most of his fans behind you before the interview, Angel," Jeffrey reveals on voicemail, "but I suspect this will pull the rest of them to your side. It showed who you really are -- separate from Harry." I beam at his compliment.
"Darling, your father and I are so proud. You're doing amazing things. Your father says it's a good thing you got off that damn partner track or you'd never be able to start the foundation." That comment makes me smile. My father is admitting I did the right thing.
Kacey's text is simple, "GO, GIRL!"
"Harry?" I ask.
"Hmmmm?"
"What do you call a smiling, happy, courteous person at a gathering of lawyers?"
"Oh. I know this one. It's the caterer."
"Nope," I smile, running my fingers over his inked skin, "It's me. I'm so very happy with you, and I'm glad we waded through all the b.s. and came out on the other side."
The softness covers his face from his dimple to his eyes as he takes my hand and presses the tips of my fingers to his lips. "I love you."
"I love you too," I respond.
"Good. Then we can start talking about our future. Kids of our own? Foster kids? Marriage? What's up next?"
Rolling my body over onto his, I take his dick into my vajayjay, sitting up and allowing the sheets to drape artfully over my naked form.
"Ummmm, I think you said we've got two years of just us, so I'm thinking a trip to Cyprus would be nice. But first...." I demonstrate what's utmost on my mind as I pull myself away from him before sliding back down as he guides my hips.
"Oh, yessssss," Harry hisses, "I think a new song is coming to me right now."
"That better not be the only thing that's coming," I tease.
Author's Note: At one point, this story had over 500,000 reads. I doubt it will reach that point ever again. I'm incredibly grateful to each of you who has read it and reread it and might perhaps recommend it to a friend or two or maybe even reread it again. I love Van and Harry, and I'm confident they're living their best lives right now in an alternate universe.