whoo, we might just make it to forty chapters. yay. :)
thanks for all the kind words about this story. it's always been a bit of a struggle to write but thank you all so much for the love. <333
*this may or may not have been inspired by Fashion Show Harry. Ugh, that animal print and that coat. sweet baby jesus.
didn't edit this and i was writing this during some episodes of Chopped. Nothing was on so, hope this makes sense and enjoy :)
Chapter Thirty Nine
Olivia's POV
Before I even had time to check if there would be a nonstop flight back to Bradford, I was being yanked out of a cab by my favorite teacher in the entire world who taught me the importance of being proud of who you are and how to find your way in this crazy world. Mister Wilson was an expert of his own advice. He knew exactly who he was and he literally could make his way around the world. Fluent in French, he was my only guide when we first arrived in the city. I clung onto him like a koala to a tree. He was my escort and until he taught me enough French to get me around town, I never left my apartment without him.
"Olivia, do you have your coat?" He asked after handing the money to the cab driver.
"Yes, Father." I recited in an extra sweet tone. Mister Wilson had been nothing less than a father to me during this whole experience.
"Smile for the cameras, darling. This is your moment."
At first I didn't understand what he meant. All I had been focused on was making sure I didn't drop my purse or leave my little notepad back at in the hotel. When I looked up, I could see some photographers coming near Mister Wilson and I. I wasn't phased at all. Not even the slightest.
I was older now. I was more mature. I was twenty two. I was just about to unveil my first line in Fashion Week. I'd been talked about for months and I'd been trained to be the best. I knew who I was. I was Olivia Devine. I was no longer Josh Devine's little sister or that deaf girl. I wasn't just Zayn Malik's girlfriend. The titles fell off me as I held my head up a little higher. My heels hit the pavement as I walked alongside my teacher. I put my hearing aid in with pride after pulling it out of my purse.
I wanted to hear them talk about me. I wanted to hear every single word around me so I put Josh's gift to good use, and turned it up a little louder.
"Olivia, are you excited to about your featured spot in the fashion show tonight?" A camera was turned on me and a microphone was pressed right under my scarlett red lips.
"Absolutely. It's an honor and I'm really excited for tonight." I smiled a little wider and waited for another question.
"Is that a hearing aid in your ear, Olivia?"
"Yes. Is that going to be a problem?" A smirk played at my lips as the interviewers laughed and nodded in approval.
"Olivia, Olivia!" They continued to shout and I smiled and waved like I should.
"Please, guys. Call me Liv."
There was a difference between Olivia and Liv. Olivia was lost. Olivia was heartbroken and confused. Liv was confident and was ready to leave her mark on the world. She knew Zayn would be proud.
He'd be with her tonight. In her heart.
* * * * *
I stood backstage with producers and models that had legs longer than giraffe's and were wearing insane getups they weren't pleased in. My models were different though. I told them to smile. I told them to have fun tonight and to work the crowd. They all weren't exactly one hundred ten pounds. In fact, I even treated them to pizza the night before.
They weren't client or walking coat hangers. They were human beings and friends.
"Five minutes, ladies! Five minutes!" The director boomed as I moved out of the way. I'd almost been run over by another rack of clothes being sent to another model's dressing room. It was completely chaotic backstage. It was amazing what they hid behind curtains. It was amazing of how much trouble the models' went through to be deemed as perfect and beautiful. They trained all year round for a thirty second walk. Their commitment was admirable.
I acted like a wallflower, fidgeting with the buttons of my coat as I looked up the nearest flight to England on my phone. The reception back here was awful and I walked around from corner to corner until I finally gave up. I bumped into someone by accident and spilled out apologizes almost immediately.
"I'm so so so sorry! I was trying to get some decent wifi and - " I looked up at the man. He had been wearing a Burberry coat and a shirt with animal print on it. He smirked until I realized what was happening.
"HARRY STYLES."
"OLIVIA DEVINE."
I jumped into his arms without hesitation and squealed as we wrapped our arms around each other. I kissed his cheek as he kissed mine. I couldn't contain my excitement when I pulled away and got a good look at him.
"Five years has been too long!" I said, with a big grin.
"You agreed to that bet so don't start complaining." He shoved his hands into his pockets.
"I-Is this real life? I can't believe it. You flew out here just for me?"
"Your brothers are here too. Lou kind of invited me. She's big on fashion, you know."
"No, Harry, I didn't know that." I said sarcastically.
"You haven't changed a bit." He ruffled my hair as I rolled my eyes.
"I got cameras on me twenty four seven. Keep out of my hair, would ya?" I muttered, looking for the nearest mirror to fix it. "Would by ay chance Zayn be here?"
"Don't cry." Harry said as he stood behind me in the mirror as I checked my eyeliner.
"So, he's not here?" I pouted, dropping my shoulders.
"He's at an showcase for his art in Italy."
"By Jove, we both made it, didn't we?!" I said, with a laugh. "That's incredible! Wish I could be there for him." I smiled sadly now, but I was still very excited for him.
"Louis is up there with him."
"I knew he had it in him. That graffitti room was good for him."
"Miss Devine," A man backstage called me with a clipboard in his hand.
"Yes?" I turned to him, with a little smile.
"Your guest is requesting you find your seat before the show starts."
"Oh, okay. Yes and is there anyway you could reposition some seats for me?" I looked over at Harry, with a tiny grin.
* * * *
Seeing my clothes down on the runway was completely surreal. I wouldn't trade the moment for the world. Unlike all the other designers who simply frowned and critiqued their own clothes or even others, I was cheering my models on with Harry by my side and my brothers right behind me. They patted my back and engulfed me in huge hugs when I arrived. Ben and Mister Wilson hit it off immediately and talked throughout the show.
"Those are really my clothes," I whispered, as my last model blew a kiss to the camera and spun on her heel. Her dress had a dramatic flow to it that I adored. It was flowy and dramatic and it was my favorite piece in the entire collection. The jacket that went with it had a ZAP embelishment on the back for Zayn and buttons pinned on them with sarcastic sayings that I could picture Louis saying if anyone particually was on his nerves that day. I missed them so much.
"We'd like to take a minute and recognize our newest designer and the designer of that previous collection, Miss Olivia Devine." The announcer said before she musical guest went onto sing. I was escorted onto the runway with a small speech in my head and a heart full of gratitude and excitement. A microphone was given to me and the limelight was in my eyes. I looked right into the camera and mouthed, "Hi Mom" earning a few laughs.
I was asked questions but I didn't even remember answering them. The only one I answered was the one about where my inspiration came from.
"A lot of people helped me out with this collection and I'd really like to thank my teacher who's sitting right there and didn't bash me when I said I had a thing for the plaid pattern." I started to laugh and he gave me a thumbs up from the front row. I went down my list- my mom, my dad. Brothers. Harry. The boys. Perrie. Rosie. It was a typical acceptance speech.
But I looked right into the camera and felt a pang of guilt.
I should be at Cocoa and Dough with Zayn. In our booth with Elaine and old records on the jukebox as we drink hot tea and eat biscottis. I'm not supposed to be here.
"I-I really, want to t-thank someone special to my heart. He's the only reason why I'm up on this stage." I let out a heavy sigh. "Zayn Malik. I love you and I'm wishing you all the best from Paris and I wish I could be at your showing at one of the biggest art museums in the world, but I can't but I hope you know I'm in your corner and thank you for pushing me and putting up with all my crap. I-I'll see you soon. Congratulations."
Up on that stage, my outburst not only was so out of place but it made me feel out of place. I awkwardly thanked everyone again and handed the microphone back to the host and quickly sat back down in my seat. Josh rubbed my shoulders from behind and Mister Wilson squeezed my hand.
Harry however did not let me sit in a pity party for too long, because he reached into his coat and pulled out a ticket for me.
At first I didn't notice it. He slipped it out as if he were a drug dealer and he was handing me the "stuff", but after poking me several times with it's tip, I processed what it was and tried not to scream as I realized it was a ticket to Italy.
"You're my best friend in the entire world, Styles." I sobbed into his arms as we embraced once more.
"We'll leave tonight after all this." He whispered in my ear as I wiped my eyes and tried to look interested in the newest collection from Free People.
Mister Wilson fist bumped me. "Go get him, girl."
Hopefully, he'd still want me and we could pick up right where we left off.