My phone went off early this morning at probably four and wouldn't you know it I'd received a text from the one and only Harry Styles. All it said was one word, 'Bailey', but that one word spoke volumes. I could hear him saying my name as if he was right there in my ear, using that same raspy sweet voice he used whenever he'd wake me up when I slept over. I can hear it now, his breath tickling my lobe each time he called me. The feeling continuously makes goosebumps rise on my flesh as I struggle not to think about him, his voice, or that text. Needless to say, I haven't responded.
All day today I've been distracting myself and keeping my word by trying to spend as much time with my parents as possible. My mom and I got up before everyone else and went shopping, the best diversion in the world. I bought her a Michael Kors bag and matching wallet since she's always wanted one and bought my dad a new barbeque grill and television for his man cave. The grill had to be delivered since it wouldn't fit in the trunk of the Nissan Juke I rented for my time down here but I was able to make it home with his 50 inch television before the grill arrived.
Family. Can't live with em, can't divorce their aŝses and never see them again without being seen as a bad person. It's times like these I wish I was an only child. As per usual the one thing that pulls me and my siblings apart crept in the door behind my dad carrying a huge smile and his new TV, jealousy. Everything was all fine and dandy when they thought my mom bought it but when she came out and told them I was the one doing the purchasing all eyes were on me.
By the time the grill showed up there were a million questions asked from, where I got the money and if I was spending outside of my means, to if they could hold something since I was rich now. I just ignored them and watched my parents fiddle with their new gifts. By the time I got here for Christmas the stores were either overly full, closed, or empty so I wasn't able to get them Christmas presents. I decided to make up for lost time and get them double. I wish I could've done more, it's not like they don't deserve it.
Both of my parents grew up poor. When I say poor I mean holes in their roof, sleeping two and three kids to a bed, and looking forward to school lunch for a square meal. My mom dropped out of school her sophomore year while my dad did the same his junior year. They both went on to get their GED and moved on from there, my mom getting her college degree while my dad worked hard manual labor jobs to support us. They both are now in comfortable leadership positions, my dad at a factory, my mom at a state office. To see where they came from and see where they are now in their early fifties I couldn't be more proud. Their lives taught me the meaning of hard work and dedication. They did everything they could to provide the best life possible for my siblings and I and I don't think that's celebrated enough in our family.
But of course my opinion means peanuts when it comes up in discussion. I'm the baby of the family so what I say is automatically irrelevant. For instance, when I decided I was going to move to California I had to dāmn near walk out of the door with my boxes before anyone really paid attention. I had already discussed my desires with my parents and although they weren't thrilled to have their baby girl move across the country they also didn't try and stop me. I don't think they really believed I would do it. It wouldn't have been the first time I had an idea to do something and then forgot about it months later so I doubt they gave it a second thought. My siblings however were, as always, a little tougher to deal with.
We were at a rare family dinner for our mom's birthday about a year before I moved. I'd slaved in the kitchen cooking all of mom's favorite dishes for hours while she was at work. By the time the family arrived I'd made pork chops, mashed potatoes, baked macaroni and cheese, rolls, and Italian crème cake for mom's birthday cake. The evening was going well and I began serving the cake after my mom made her wish. Despite my aversion to all things coconut I even served myself a piece before taking a seat and sharing the news that I wanted to move.
My sister expressed her concerns but my brother's outcry far outweighed hers. They don't agree on much but on this topic they were in full agreeance. They kept asking my parents why they were allowing me to move and how they were allowing me to move so far away. I however firmly reminded them that not only was I an adult but I was also sitting at the table so they could address me with their questions or concerns. They may have picked on me when I was younger, as older brothers do, but I stopped taking their shįt lying down a long time ago.
Of course they ignored what I had to say as always, giving me that old familiar invisible feeling. Even when they finally addressed me and asked what my plan was to get money to move I still felt insignificant. They laughed when I told them that I'd get multiple jobs to earn the money and told me I wouldn't last working one let alone more than that. I've never been fond of work so I gave them that and I know they were just doing their older sibling duty by ragging on me but I can't say it didn't hurt that they didn't believe in me.
I've felt invisible in one way or another my whole life. It's the reason I like hanging out with my parents without my siblings around, I feel seen. I held on to Charlie through his mistreatment all because sometimes if I was lucky he'd see me and that feeling knocked anything and everything else out of the way. But I learned to live without it, learned to love the shadows. You can do so much more without a constant eye on your every move. And although that feeling of being seen and wanted is great, I trained myself to function in spite of not having it. I learned to depend on myself, to believe in myself and it solidified my independence.
Going through the trials I endured while sticking to my guns and doing what I had to do to move all on my own taught me things I couldn't teach myself. No one was there with me forcing me awake to work overnight only to wake up after what feels like minutes of sleep to go to work again. No one dealt with the weight fluctuation when I'd forget to eat because I was so busy then binge eat once I thought about it only to repeat the cycle all over again. No one helped me with the work I still had to do to graduate even though I was so mentally and physically drained I could hardly remember my own name. I had to learn that support is nice but not necessary. Because no one was collecting my checks nor my degree once the time came, that was all me.
Shaking my head at the memories I smile at my dad setting up his grill outside on the patio. He and my mom thanked me a thousand times as they tinkered with their new possessions and it made me feel good that I was finally able to give back to the people who not only gave me life but also gave me a roof over my head for over twenty years without asking for a thing in return.
The leather couch rumbles as I get up to go to the kitchen for a slice of pecan pie, it's my favorite so I hid a piece away in the bread box.
"Are you eating again?" my eldest brother asks jokingly from the couch as I make it to the kitchen.
Joking or not the question burns me up. I've had problems with food and weight my entire life. In my family with the way we all cook there's no choice but to be thicker and then we crucify you for it. We aren't your typical lovey dovey family, there aren't many mushy moments or touching memories. We love to laugh together and we enjoy each other's company at the end of the day but my family can be pretty brutal. Tough love, I guess it's how we say I love you. Our philosophy has always been that we'd rather tell you than have someone from off the street say it. So if someone's looking particularly fluffy or is wearing something unflattering we don't hold back.
It's part of why I'm so blunt to this day. Being direct has become a part of my character over the years regardless of my anxiety. I want what I want and I say it no matter what.
"You're not using your gym membership again? Bitch. Mind your business," I snap back making my other siblings laugh and me too if I'm honest. I truly cannot stand for people to watch or comment on my food intake, very few things bug me more.
As I plate my pie my phone beeps again. I take in a deep breath hoping it's not another message from Harry. I don't know what to do about the first one so I for dāmn sure am going to be clueless about a second. Looking at the email however I see it's from a publishing company I haven't heard too much about called Evergreen Publishing.
They're offering their apologies for Pebbles Publishing's inappropriate business methods and proposing a meeting of the minds, so to speak. Their mention of Pebbles didn't do anything but make me shy away from working with them for fear that the same thing will happen again. Their alluded promise to not treat me the same way goes in one ear and out the other. It's almost like when you meet a guy and tell him about your shįtty ex and he promises not to do the same to you only to do that and worse. Just like when I hear that bullshįt I run the other way I feel like I should do the same now.
With the feedback I've been getting on the final chapter of Fresh Start I've been thinking more and more about self-publishing. My readers are craving more of my writing so I know there's a market for me it's just about whether or not I want to take the risk. I'd love nothing more than to be able to quit my day job and write for a living; self-publishing until my name is so big, of my own merit, that publishing companies are beating my doors down. It's a dream that may never be realized but a dream none-the-less.
~*~
I decided to stay in Texas a couple more days and head back to Cali on the twenty-ninth instead of the twenty-seventh like I planned. I have mountains of sick leave and vacation days since they stack up so quickly and I never take off from work so I figured why not. Once my siblings went back home I had my parents to myself like I wanted. We went out to dinner, shopping, and hung out together like we used to. Those extra days really meant a lot to each of us and reconnected us under the special bond we share.
However this morning as I prepared to leave, I once again insisted my parents not drive me to the airport but as per usual they drove me anyway. While my mom and I focused on not crying as we parted ways, my dad decided to focus on complaining about how short my shirt dress is and how it's too cold to be, in his words, "showing all your business." I in turn reminded him that since I'm wearing thigh high boots I'm practically wearing pants and then proceeded to hug and kiss him goodbye.
The flight to LA was shorter than I expected so I had less time to think about what to do about Harry's text. I had even less time once I got home and went to work for a half-day. I want to respond to him, I do, but I can't figure out if he's texting me because he really wants to talk or if he got a negative report from his errand girl and decided to speak for himself after all. It's been days and the message is still sitting in my phone opened but unanswered.
As my doorbell rings I push the thoughts from my mind and head to the front door. Damien and I are supposed to go wedding cake tasting since the last cake he ordered magically became tasteless and would make his guests nauseous, his words not mine. He's a groomzilla if I've ever seen one and if I do say so myself it's hilarious to watch.
"My love!" Damien yells as I open the door, pulling me into a hug almost immediately. We haven't seen each other since I left for Texas. He took the day off of work to work on wedding stuff all day so I didn't even see him this morning.
"Hey boo," I greet him, hugging him tightly with my mouth turned far away so I don't get my black lipstick on his white shirt.
He holds me out at arms-length then compliments, "You are looking sickening today. I love those boots."
I grin and model for him a bit before laughing. I ended up redressing in the outfit I wore this morning to the airport since I only wore it for a bit before changing for work. "Thanks. You ready to go?"
He nods his agreeance and I grab my purse from the table by the door.
The ride downtown is quick since most people are still at work making me thankful I'm not. As we take a seat in the bakery I smile at the sweet smell in the air. The bakery is pretty and fun looking, almost like a candy store. The walls are painted a dainty baby pink and trimmed in white crown molding while the floors are made of square white tiles. Displays of real and fake cakes are everywhere in cases and on counters surrounding the room. The table we're seated at is so surrounded by displays it feels like we're in a cocoon of baked goods, also known as heaven.
"There is quite honestly no place I'd rather be right now and I want you to know Damien that you're the best friend I've ever had," I say as the cake baker leaves.
Damien laughs and rolls his eyes, "Right, you say this now. Just remember you said that when you can't fit into your favorite jeans tomorrow."
I roll my eyes back at him and prepare to listen to the baker's description of each of the cakes she's bringing us. As she talks I can't help but imagine what this would be like if I was doing this for my own wedding. The thought brings a smile to my face but a frown soon replaces it when I realize I have no groom.
"Any questions?" she asks, hazel eyes trained on me, her blonde hair tucked under a powder blue cap that matches her uniform.
I shake my head no with a smile even though I have no idea what she said. She tells us to enjoy and then leaves us to it.
"So what were you thinking about just then?" Damien asks with a grin as he cuts a piece of the sample cake to taste.
I frown, feigning confused. "I was listening."
He raises an eyebrow, challenging my response, then points to a piece of cake in front of us, "What flavor is this?"
I take in the dark reddish brown look of the cake and the white icing on top of it and take my best guess. "Red velvet?"
He shakes his head knowingly, "Devil's food cake with buttercream icing. Now spill, what's wrong?"
I sigh, not wanting to get into it but decide to go ahead and say something since it's eating away at me. I tell him all about Harry's message and how I've been avoiding answering him for days.
He smiles and shakes his head, "You are so stubborn. Just text him back at least, even though I think you should talk over the phone. Maybe he's realized the error of his ways."
"Or he's feeling some type of way because I denied him and now he's on an ego trip. You know how guys are, they like to know they have you whether they want you or not," I rebut, stuffing a delicious piece of what looks and tastes like strawberry cake in my mouth.
"Or he could just miss you Bailey. I don't think you realize how awesome you are and how easily you're missed. People notice your presence and they dāmn sure notice when it's gone. Give him a chance."
I open my mouth to reply but stick another piece of cake in it instead. Damien's words soak in slowly but they do happen to get through. Even though I hate admitting it, what he said is true. I can only judge my current experiences by my past ones and those experiences are contaminating these and clouding my judgement.
"So which cake do you like the best?" Damien asks, bringing my focus back.
I quickly taste a small piece of each to refresh my memory before I decide. "The strawberry is my favorite but you can never go wrong with vanilla, it's pretty universal."
He nods before calling the baker over. With her at the table he places his order for the four tier cake of alternating vanilla and strawberry flavors.
I sit back and let them fill out the necessary paperwork my finger hovering over the reply button on Harry's message. I keep battling with myself about if I should reply and even how I should reply. Should I be snarky and snap out on him or sweet and tell him I miss him? Maybe I should just reply with his name back and be sarcastic. I turn my phone off as Damien approaches, paperwork in hand. I'll worry about it later.
"We should go shopping and walk off some of this cake," Damien suggests as we walk out to my car.
I nod in agreeance, "Hell yeah, plus the color of that place has me craving a pair of baby pink pumps."
He laughs, shaking his head as he grabs the door handle. "Dinner after then, we can pick up Amita once she gets home from work."
"For sure," I agree, starting the car. The band will be back together in a couple of hours and I can't wait.
~*~
Hours of shopping and eating later and I'm full and tired. As always Amita, Damien and I had a great time eating Thai food and then grabbing a drink at a lounge after. I'd apparently missed a lot on my half day off. According to Amita, Whitney has been snaking any clients from me she can get her hands on. Even when they come in and want to work with me specifically she moves in for the kill and doesn't mind lying to steal the account from me. The thought to quit my job and write full time crossed my mind more than once during that conversation but I shut it down. It's just not practical right now.
I listen to Berkley drone on and on about work, slowly putting me to sleep. He insisted we 'talk on the phone tonight like teenagers' but I didn't think this is what he had in mind. I've heard about more spreadsheets tonight than I care to mention. So much so that the only spread sheets I'm concerned with are the ones on my bed. I even brought up how unfair it is that Whitney is stealing my clients however his only reply was that he admired her ruthlessness in business and complimented her execution. If I hadn't checked out of the conversation before then I definitely did after that.
A text comes into my phone giving me the perfect out. No matter who it is I'm going to pretend it's important enough for me to end the call.
"Hey Berkley I just got a text to call someone about something important so I'll talk to you tomorrow okay?" I interrupt, not hearing nor caring what he was in the middle of saying.
"Okay but wait I wanted to ask you something first," he rushes out, "Have you put anymore thought into moving in with me?"
Anymore? I hadn't put any in it in the first place. I sigh instead of replying the way I want to after that boring conversation. "I need time Berkley, that's a heavy step."
He pauses before answering, "Right, no problem. I'll talk with you later."
We hang up and I nearly squeal, thankful for my freedom. The time on the screen of my phone catches me by surprise, it's crazy late, a little after three in the morning. However that's nothing compared to the text hovering on the screen.
Come to Paris. I miss you. I'm ready to listen. I need to see you. - H
My mouth goes dry at the sight of Harry's name attached to the words. I want to be emotional. I want to text him back and tell him I'm on my way, to run to my laptop and find the flight that leaves the soonest and go. But instead I use my brain and the self-respect I earned through years of repair and respond as level-headed as I can.
No. I'm supposed to jump just because you say how high? You're ready to talk so I have to leave my life to run to you? I have a job Harry, responsibilities. I can't just drop everything and come to you because you all of a sudden need me.
I'm startled by a knock at my front door and freeze, straining my ears to listen. The knock sounds off again and I spring into action. Grabbing a heavy statue on the way to the door I peak through the peep hole to see a young girl, she's maybe twenty years old. Unlocking the door I grip the statue tighter, preparing to swing.
"Bailey Duncan?" she asks cheerfully.
"Yes," I answer tightly through the small crack in the door.
"I have a delivery for you from a, Houdini Styles," her voice mirrors the confusion in her head at the name.
I however know exactly who it's from and reach my hand through the crack for the delivery. She wishes me a nice rest of my night and leaves as I close my door.
Only Harry would pay extra to have something delivered at such an insane hour. The time difference doesn't dawn on me until I get back to my room and in my bed. It's noon for him. Opening the manila envelope I gasp as I pull out a plane ticket, for six in the morning from LAX to Paris. Immediately I call him not caring that I might break if I hear his voice but he doesn't answer. Within seconds of pulling my phone away from my ear a new text comes in with one word.
Please.
The bitter bitch in me wants to leave him hanging. She wants to disregard his pleading off of principle alone. However, I ignore her. I don't know what the feeling forming in my chest is as I read the word over and over. I know how much I care for him and seeing everything he's gone through to get me to him I can assume how much he cares for me. Even though I know what can come of this if things go wrong I can't help wanting to see where this goes. My feelings for him go so far past friendship but even if friendship is all we can have I feel like it's worth it, at least in this moment. If nothing more I'll finally get to use the passport I paid so much for and never used. Climbing out of bed to grab my suitcase I decide to brush up on my French on the plane ride over.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
What's up my good people!!!!
I hope yall liked the chapter and had a wonderful Thanksgiving!! Mine was okay, boring as usual because none of my family comes down for the holiday. I actually modeled Bailey's holiday experiences after my own in that Thanksgiving is kind of slow and boring but Christmas is lit, everybody and their mom is here. This Christmas is actually going to be a little different for me though because I'm having surgery on Christmas Eve. I'm only telling you guys this because it's going to affect the way I upload in the near future.
My hope is that I'll be able to pre-write some chapters so I can still upload with my schedule even while I recover. But I do still have finals and projects due with the semester coming to an end.
But no matter what yall will have chapters especially since you amazing people have gotten Weightless to OVER FOUR THOUSAND reads! Not to mention 198 FOLLOWERS! I just can't thank yall enough :)
This chapter's Question...
Where are you from?
This chapter...
This time around I wanted to give more insight into Bailey's family life. I'm a firm believer in the idea that the way your family loves affects the way you love so I wanted you guys to get a glimpse at that so you can hopefully understand Bailey, her past, and her decisions. Also, Harry finally came around but Bailey was not with the shits initially lol I don't really blame her especially after having everything happen on someone else's time with Charlie I can see why she wanted to make him sweat a bit. We'll see what happens next chapter though :)
This chapter's song...
Make It To Me by Sam Smith. I LOVE me some Sam Smith yall and this song is so beautiful. The first time I heard it I fell in love with it. It's such a beautiful song about waiting for the one you love to make it to you so I felt it kind of fit Bailey and Harry's situation.
As for new follower S/O's...
This time we have: anjaile, _just_ashley__, MrsBluDiva, kittykatty005, mrsjuice10, popchart, fiokulee, LoveOnTheRocks, Odellwifey, kianimiller, Jasminemb19, Bobbie1993, Jazzieeee___, itsbonae, NeneGetsIt, THEOFFICIALTATYANNA, shyfostergurl, shawnlancaster, BritinnaClarke, and !!!
Thanks so much for following and I hope I don't disappoint!
Invite your friends to read and follow and leave me some feedback in the comments!! I love hearing from yall!!!!
Until Next Time,
WBN