Using my shoulder to hold my phone to my ear while Ruby chatted endlessly to me from Norway, I typed an email quickly. The pace of work had slowed down since the launching of the European leg of the tour. I understood that it was simply a break in the storm; things would intensify when award shows came up and when the tour was taken from Europe to North America.
"How's Laura?" Ruby asked bitterly.
I glanced up and saw Laura close her office door. "She's on a rampage! She screams at everyone. I think she made Natalia cry yesterday."
"I'm sorry to have left you all there with her," Ruby sighed over the phone.
"But you're having fun on tour, yeah?"
"An absolute blast!" she giggled. "Oh! The interview is about to begin. I have to run! Email me those reports we talked about earlier."
"I will."
"Go to the web live stream and watch this interview. It's going to be good."
"Okay," I agreed.
When the call ended, I eyed Laura's office door. She had locked herself in her office after screaming at an intern for mistakenly ordering her the wrong coffee. Alessandra spent thirty minutes talking him out of the bathroom where he had hidden.
I stowed my laptop and a pair of headphones in my bag and left the office space. I didn't speak to anyone as I walked out the front doors and crossed the busy street to a coffee shop. I sat down at an empty table and opened the laptop. Untangling the headphones, I managed to access the live stream just as the interview began.
There they were: the boys sat in a semicircle with a male interviewer. Five sets of eyes were on the camera as the interviewer spoke Norwegian to the viewers. My eyes fell to Harry. His hair was gathered in a bun and he looked tired. I felt the urge to reach out and touch him.
"Alright, guys," the interviewer turned to the boys and smiled as he spoke in English. "You do a lot of interviews and most of them have funny questions like 'what's your favorite food?' or 'who is your celebrity crush?' But we already know those answers now! We wanted to do this interview a little differently. We wanted to ask more serious questions. Is that okay?"
"Sounds like a good challenge," Niall answered. The boys nodded in unison.
"We'll start with a big one." The interviewer glanced down to a piece of paper he held in his hands. "You have millions of fans worldwide who know you. The parents of those fans know you. The friends of those fans know you. You're constantly on the news and in magazines. You are music icons. You are fashion icons. You do charity work. You're influencing musicians and artists all the time. You're very involved. What is it like being relevant to nearly everyone?"
Each of the boys' eyes widened. "I guess we've never really thought of it like that," Louis explained their hesitation to answer. "We grew up leading normal lives and we sort of stumbled into this world. We don't pay much attention to our own relevance, you know? But I think we're in a position to do good in the world because of it. You mentioned our charity work. That's a major example. Having relevance is a bit of a strange feeling, but I think we try to be uplifting and not take ourselves too seriously."
"Let's talk about the fans," the interviewer said. "It's difficult for you to go places, Harry, without being followed. Fans follow you to restaurants and to the cinema and to your car. They take pictures of you and tweet at you and comment on your photos online all the time. Sometimes they get even more extreme. Does it ever get overwhelming? Do you ever wish it would slow down so you could breathe?"
"The fans have become a permanent fixture in our lives at this point," Harry explained. "I can't remember the last place I went without fans following. They're quite like a shadow at this point. But without the screaming fans stalking our hotels, grabbing our arms when we walk by, chasing our cars down the street, we wouldn't have a job. Without the fans, I couldn't do what I love doing every single day. Sometimes their methods are extreme, but I am extremely grateful our fans care about us."
The interview continued with several questions. Keeping to his word, the interviewer didn't ask a silly question about traits the boys have or shenanigans from tour. It was one of the most interesting interviews I had ever seen. I was captivated by the depth of the questions and answers the boys provided.
"One last question before I let you boys go," the interviewer smiled. "Some of you are in long distance relationships. Liam, what is it like being in a long distance relationship when you're on a world tour?"
Liam looked down at his hands and smiled to himself as if remembering a fond memory. "Being away is certainly difficult because you want to share these moments with someone, you know? But in some ways being separated isn't so bad because when we're finally back together, it makes it that much nicer. We miss each other for so long that we can spend time together and be happy with no drama."
The answer he gave was nearly identical to every other answer the boys had given in response to that question over the years. I could remember hearing it before my accident well before I started dating Harry, and thinking that it was a sweet answer. But now that I was actually in a long distance relationship with Harry, I could see that the answer wasn't exactly the whole truth. Being away from Harry made everything complicated. We struggled to find time in our schedules to talk for just ten minutes over the phone. I wondered how our relationship had been during the last tour.
When the interviewer began thanking the boys for talking with him, I shut my computer and began the journey back to my office.
____________
In the middle of the night, I received a text message from Harry saying he was on his way back to London for two days. He said he desperately wanted to see me. The vibration of my phone on the bedside table had brought me out of sleep. When I read the message, I sat up and reread it because I couldn't believe my eyes. Then I read it again for good measure.
Me: I want to see you, too. Maybe we can find time to meet up.
Harry: I'll call you in the morning when I land in London. Please get some sleep .x
My mind cartwheeled. I was just some girl Harry had spent a few days with while in London for a break earlier in the summer. I had been to dinner with him a couple of times, but that was it. Now he was coming to the city on a tight schedule and requested to spend time with me. Of all the people in the city that would be eager to see him, he was choosing me.
I felt nervous and excited and giddy and exhausted and restless all at once. Trying to fall back asleep proved to be a difficult task. I pictured Harry calling me in the morning and telling me he had made a mistake and meant to send the message to another girl. I pictured Harry calling me in the morning and telling me his plans had changed and he wasn't in London. I pictured Harry calling me in the morning and telling me that he only wanted to see me so he could tell me he never wanted to speak to me again.
Morning came and just before the hour struck eight, my phone rang. I cleared my throat before answering, but my voice sounded tired anyway, "Hello?"
"Kate, it's Harry."
"Hello, Harry," my cheeks reddened to a blush he would never see.
"When I landed in London, the fans went completely mad. It took nearly an hour to get home." It sounded like Harry was leading up to an excuse not to see me. I began mentally preparing to tell him it was okay and that we could meet up some other time. "So I don't think we can go out. I was hoping you would come to my townhouse for breakfast."
Relieved he hadn't broken our plans, I let out a girlish giggle, "Alright, Harry."
"My driver, Peter, will be by to pick you up in forty-five minutes. Is that enough time?"
"That's plenty of time," I assured him.
"Great."
"Great," I repeated.
"See you then."
I rushed to dress and find the perfect outfit. I stared at one combination in the mirror, but it felt too forced. I tried something else, but it seemed too casual. I had no idea what I was supposed to wear to see my maybe-crush and have breakfast with him. Finally, I settled on a simple cotton knit dress that was light grey.
A gentleman, likely in his late fifties, stood outside my door in the buzzing fluorescent lights of my building's hallway. He wore a black collared shirt and black dress pants. Car keys dangled from his fingers as he smiled and politely introduced himself as Peter. He led me to the SUV parked in front of my building. He chatted with me during the entire drive. He asked where I was from and about my family. He asked if I liked London and working for One Direction. He was quite friendly.
It occurred to me that Harry had sent his driver because I had never before been to his townhouse. It was a beautiful house perfectly placed on a street full of equally impressive residences. Expensive cars lined the street in front of their respective homes. When Peter parked the car, he opened my door and walked with me to the front steps of the white townhouse.
Harry opened the door with a grin on his face. He stepped aside to let me in and it was only when I was finally in the entryway of the townhouse that I realized Peter had remained outside. I had spent the entire morning stressed about how to greet Harry. Every anxiety I had washed away as soon as Harry embraced me as a greeting.
"Thank you for coming to my house," he began. "I'm sorry we couldn't go out somewhere nice. When I landed in the city, the fans were wild because we didn't announce that we were coming back to London. Anyway, if we went out this morning, we wouldn't be left alone for a minute."
"It's okay," I smiled. "You have a lovely home."
"Let me show you around." I liked the way he said it. He wasn't showing me around to impress me with his house and the things inside. He was showing me around to welcome me fully.
We glided from room to room with Harry's shoulder and elbow "accidentally" bumping into and nudging me. He was playful and happy despite the lack of sleep he had gotten the night before. I felt like I was getting to see a bit of him that wasn't for everyone to see. Being with Harry one on one was natural.
Harry led me to the kitchen where I could see a variety of ingredients and materials on the counter-presumably to make breakfast-but he didn't acknowledge them at all. Instead, he stood beside me against the island in the kitchen and started looking nervous.
"Is this your ploy to get women in your house?" I teased. "Do you entice them with breakfast foods?"
"No," he laughed. "I don't usually invite people over for breakfast."
"So I'm the exception?"
"Well yeah," he blushed. "You're not just anyone."
"Oh?" His words left me speechless.
"Look," his voice softened and his eyes met mine. "I've really been thinking about you a lot lately. I don't know...I just feel something with you."
"You do?"
The room grew tense as our eyes locked. His gaze was focused on me entirely. His lips were parted and I could hear his quiet breathing in the silent kitchen. He took a louder, shaky breath before speaking to loosen the tension, "I really do. So I just want to get to know you for now."
"Okay," I whispered. "I'd like to get to know you, too."
He paused as if to say something else. Perhaps he was surprised that someone wanted to get to actually know him and didn't just want to survive off the wild stories the media made up or all the preconceived ideas the world offered about Harry Styles. Then he cracked a crooked smile and offered up one more invitation to completely melt away all the tension left in the room, "Do you like waffles?"
____________
I woke up from the dream just as the sky outside was turning lavender before the sun could fully rise. I shifted anxiously in the bed to find my phone. My immediate reaction was to call Harry to tell him about the dream I just had. I wanted to know if the dream was just my imagination, or if I had a memory return to me.
When I got hold of my phone, I saw the hour and realized Harry was already awake and off on his day. If I called, chances were he wouldn't answer. His days were far busier now with more appearances, interviews, and recording sessions. He was in Stockholm for the next few days to make an appearance on a Swedish singing competition show and then do two performances on consecutive nights. His schedule didn't allow for his girlfriend to call to report her wild dreams.
With images of jetlagged Harry offering me fresh waffles in my head, I stood up from my bed and staggered a few uneasy steps before finding my balance and striding out of my bedroom.
In the hallway outside my bedroom door was a table with a lamp on the top. I turned on the lamp and opened the drawer on the front of the table. I was in search of my journal, which would be the only resource I had, besides Harry, to check if what I dreamed was real or made up. I had been faithful in writing in my journal fairly regularly before the accident. With any luck, I would be able to read about breakfast with Harry to jog my memory.
The drawer stuck when I tried to open it. Finally, I jiggled the drawer until it came loose and I pulled it open all the way. I could see that my journal lay undisturbed in the bottom of the drawer, but it was not the only thing there. A white envelope was resting on the top of my journal.
I lifted the envelope and turned it over in my hand. It was sealed and there was no writing on the outside. I fit my thumb in the small opening along the edge and tore open the envelope. Inside was a piece of paper neatly folded. I felt my heart pounding in my chest. I held the paper in my hand and saw a short message written in black ink with handwriting that was unmistakably Harry's.
Though I have not yet said these words aloud to you, I mean them wholeheartedly: I love you.
I felt my vision narrow then widen. I felt my lungs exhale every bit of air they held. I felt my knees buckle. I felt my head swim. I felt my world quake. In the stillness of the early morning, my entire life had been cracked wide open. Those three small words, eight letters, had never seemed so powerful in my life until that very moment.
I sat on the floor for what felt like hours. The note was safely stored back in its envelope. I couldn't bring myself to read it again. If reading it one time made me feel like I had jumped into icy water, I didn't want to think about what reading it a second time would do.
Reading the words on paper had been sweeter to me than hearing them because I understood why Harry had chosen to write them. It was clear that Harry felt like telling me he loves me, but he also understood that I might not be ready for that. I had a traumatic couple of months and though we had indisputably drawn closer to one another, I still didn't have the same relationship with him as he did with me. By writing the words, Harry had allowed me to process them on my own. He had allowed me to experience being told by him that he loves me without feeling any pressure to say it back immediately. Simply the way he told me he loves me was an expression of how much he loves me.
____________
Smiles and tears later, I stood up from the floor and fumbled for my phone. I found Julia's contact and listened to the dull, droning tones before she finally picked up. Her voice was cheerful on the other end, "Hello!"
"Julia," I said carefully. "I need to come to Stockholm."
"What?"
"I would never ask if it weren't important. Something has come up with Harry and I need to get to Stockholm. I'm buying a plane ticket, but I need to you know that I'm coming."
"You sound so serious. Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. Everything is fine. I just need you to know that I'm coming."
"Alright, we'll be waiting for you."
"Don't tell anyone, please," I added.
"What?"
"Julia, I need you to know that I'm coming to Stockholm to see Harry, but only you."
"I won't say a word."
"Thank you, Julia."
"See you in Stockholm," she replied.