I have no choice. I pretend I haven't even seen the magazine and walk straight through to the room that Cheryl and I are sharing.
Cheryl is there, reading on her bed on the right side of the room, and immediately as I close the door behind me, she drops the book as if she wasn't even reading it, and widens her eyes at me.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" She whisper shouts, obviously not wanting to bring too much attention to herself from dad and Sally. "I didn't get to hear what you told dad because Sally took me out of the room, but I'm already getting a sneaking suspicion that what you told dad isn't the truth. You can trust me, you know that. Spill."
So I do. And I tell her everything. From going out with Jess, to waking up in Berlin and seeing an unknown phone number on my arm, then finding out it was Niall, and then I tell her about all of the nice things he did for me, all up until I got back here. And she doesn't even interrupt me at all. She simply lets me blow off all my steam - quietly of course - until I've said what I want to say.
"Wow. I don't even know what to say..." She opens her mouth a couple more times before closing it again, at a complete loss for words. I don't blame her. I still don't even know what to make of it.
"Anyway. I don't really want to talk about it, so it's probably good that you don't know what to say." I chuckle at myself, despite the humorlessness of the situation.
Actually.
I've changed my mind. It is a pretty funny scenario. Now that I'm past it, it's actually kind of hilarious - in a twisted way. Maybe I'm going crazy. Ok, I'm definitely going crazy.
But suddenly my laughter stops, and that's because I've forgotten about something very important. The magazine.
"Cheryl." I begin completely seriously. She's probably going to get whiplash from my changes of emotion that are happening so quickly. "How on earth did that magazine get there?" My heart is racing, and although I desperately want to scream right now, I'm managing to keep calm.
"Here's the thing..." She looks away abashedly and I'm almost certain I can see her gulping. "It wasn't my fault, I swear, Mil, dad and Sally went out looking for you, told me to stay here, you know, because they think I'm too young and all that load of bull..." She's rambling, which means she's nervous. Which of course is now making me extremely nervous.
"Cheryl, stop stalling. Please...just get to the point." I sigh exasperatedly. I don't know how much more I can handle before I have some kind of conniption.
"Ok. It's really not that bad...well, it is, but..." I think I must be glaring quite aggressively at her right now, since she takes one look at me and then hurriedly manages to get to the point. "So dad and Sally went to look for you, and then, when they came back they were super angry. Like super duper angry. They were practically interrogating me, asking me if I knew anything about the whole you and Harry Styles thing, not that there is a thing, well there is, but not like a thing thing..." I'm glaring at her again. "Sorry. Um, yeah, so I told them that I didn't know anything, and that's it. I'd be pretty scared if I were you," she concludes.
"Gee! Way to make me feel at ease! Thanks!" I spit at her, my head resting in my hands helplessly.
"Sorry. So are you gonna go out there yet?" She asks me feebly.
"Well I have to at some point. I have to stay an extra night to see Harry on the 7th, as well, I can't remember if I told you or not. So yeah, it's going to take a lot of convincing. But I figure if I get Sally on my side - which won't be difficult - dad will soon follow. It's the only way."
"That's a solid plan. You should go out now. We basically only have one full day left in Paris and then we're going back to London to then fly back to Melbourne, you realise?"
"Yes, Cheryl, of course I realise." I pause for a second, my head hurting from all the thoughts swarming through my brain. "I'm going to go out now. I need to eat, anyway." Just as I stand up, my brand new phone falls to the floor, and two sudden new thoughts pop into my head.
1. I have to text Niall to firstly thank him, and then to ask for Harry's number.
2. I have no passport, so how the hell am I going to get back to Melbourne, even if it's after the others go?
Ok, so fuck. That second one may be slightly more important. How long does it even take to get a replacement passport? Never mind that, how much will it cost? Dad has paid for the entirety of this holiday, thankfully, but as if he's going to voluntarily pay for my new passport, plus the cost of me staying in England while I wait for the passport process to be complete. My part time job back at home definitely won't be enough to pay for all of this. Especially since I lost my wallet. That reminds me; I better cancel my credit cards and such.
Ahh, uni student problems.
I pick my phone up off the floor, quickly text Niall, and open the door.
Let the games begin.
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Silence. Utter, complete, eye twitching silence.
That's the reaction I got when I walked into the lounge room/kitchen/dining area. Sally looked up, but dad didn't even flinch. I can tell that he's trying his absolute best not to look at me, his eyes are glued to the screen of the television.
It's making me feel really awkward and uncomfortable. There's a pizza box on the kitchen bench, so I decide to trudge over to it, and open it. There's one piece left.
Well, that will have to do. I've been through worse.
While I'm gobbling down that very piece of pizza, I might add, the one and only magazine is sitting mere inches away. I'm trying not to even glance at it, but my curiosity gets the better of me, and I slide it over.
HARRY STYLES' NEW CATCH? is sprawled across the front of the magazine, with a picture of us together underneath. To be frank, we look pretty far gone, but not to the point where we look sloppy. Well definitely not Harry, anyway - he could never look anything even near sloppy.
Soon enough, the sound of steps approaching interrupts my thoughts, before I can even look past the front page. My head jerks up, and I give myself a kink in my neck due to the harsh action. Typical me.
"Ow!" I wince in pain, rubbing the sore area. Luckily it's only Sally. She looks down at the magazine, no doubt realizing that I was just looking at it.
"Are you ok?" The meaningful look in Sally's eyes tells me that this question has a double meaning, mainly referencing my ordeal over the past couple of days. It's not like she knows the real story anyway, so I don't know why she's being so sympathetic. That's Sally for you, I guess.
"Yeah," I sigh. "A bit tired," I add.
"Your dad's just worried," she lowers her voice. "We were all very worried about you. I mean, we didn't hear from you at all. It was a scary situation. You understand that, don't you?"
"I do. And I'm so sorry. I don't think I can even describe how sorry I am. But Sally, I need to talk to you. In private," I motion to dad, who's still sitting on the couch watching TV, and most likely hanging on to our every word.
"Lets go for a walk, shall we?" She grabs her coat from the nearby hook, looks over to my dad, and without saying a word, opens the door, leaving the suite. I soon follow her, instead choosing to not look over at my dad.
I just hate this whole situation, because yes. I know I did the wrong thing. It was a mistake that I kind of couldn't control. Emphasizing the 'kind of'. But I'm almost 20, I shouldn't have to look to my parents at every obstacle that crosses my path. I'm an independent woman - or trying to be one - and it's as if my dad won't let me.
So once Sally and I have left the building, that's what I tell her. All she does is listen, and I'm happy about that for now. I soon go on to tell her about the predicament I'm in with Harry and the bracelet, and not having a passport so no real way of getting home, and this is the most honest I've been to her in a while. She's not my mum, but she's the closest thing to it at this point, so I may as well go in head first.
Unsurprisingly, Sally is completely understanding. She tells me that she can get dad on my side even if it might be tense between us for a little while.
So there. Just like I said, I've gotten through to Sally. She's going to help me apply for a new passport before they fly back in London and I'm going to yet again stay at the crazily dodgy hotel while I wait for it to be approved. It's become my second home, really, it's quite comforting for some reason. I just hope I'm not obtaining some strange diseases from it. That would be just my luck, honestly.
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To Harry: Sorry if you've tried to contact me, and don't know if Niall has mentioned anything about it, but I lost my phone. What time would you like to meet tomorrow and where? xx Miller
It's the 6th of January and I'm finally texting Harry about our meet up tomorrow. My family and I recently got off the train to London, and I'm feeling better. Dad is still acting quite reserved around me, but at least he's acknowledging my existence. We haven't fully talked about what happened, but he's understanding my need for independence and would never want to challenge what Sally thinks, which I find quite hilarious.
Sally has helped me fill out an application for my new passport and I'm currently waiting on a response for when my interview will be. It could be days, hopefully not weeks. It's not that I'm over Europe - I don't think I ever could be - I'm just a bit homesick. Their flight is soon, but dad is meeting up with an old high school friend now.
And me? I'm lazing around in the hotel waiting for Harry to reply, with nothing to do, since I have no data on my phone.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
From Harry: Haha, no, Niall didn't mention anything? How about a cafe? There's one on Carnaby street called Retreat. I'll forward you the address if you can't find it. How about 11.30? xx
That's weird, I really thought Niall would've said something to Harry. I respond right away.
To Harry: My hotel's not far from that street, so that sounds great. A bit has happened in the last few days, so I'll tell you tomorrow. It's quite the story if I do say so myself! ;) xx
He, too, texts back almost immediately.
From Harry: I'll be the judge of that, thank you very much. ;) xx
Wow, look at the sass. Jesus christ. I'm loving this banter, I just hope it's not awkward when we're actually interacting in person.
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"Excuse me," I stop a young man on Carnaby street as I'm on my way to the cafe to meet Harry. Yeah, Harry Styles. "Would you happen to know where Retreat cafe is?"
He frowns at me as if I have 17 heads, but opens his mouth to speak anyway. "It's right there." He points behind me, and I turn my head to see that, yes, I have literally just walked past it.
I laugh abnormally loudly, all the while saying, "oh, silly me!" And the man simply shakes his head disappointedly and walks off.
It's like, wow, sorry, I'm not actually British, so give me a break, mate. That's what I feel like saying to him.
Next thing I know, I'm backtracking about six metres to where the cafe is. I enter it cautiously, looking around to see if Harry is in sight. Luckily for me, I spot him nearly straight away. He's at a table by himself facing the wall, so I can't see his face, but I can tell it's him, with his freshly shaven hair. So I walk over, and quickly sit down, trying to not bring too much attention to us, because there could be a mob within seconds if he's spotted.
"Um, who are you?" Surprised by both his words and his surprisingly high pitched voice, I finally look at the man before me...
...Who is in fact not the Harry Styles we all know and love.
Wow. Ok.
I've just sat down at some random guy's table. This is so embarrassing. Oh my god. What do I do. What do I say.
Play it cool, Miller, play it cool.
"I, sorry, um, yeah." Is all that comes out of my mouth. I mean for Pete's sake. What the fuck is wrong with me?!
"What do you think you're doing?" A female voice asks from next to me. I look up, and I swear, if looks could kill, I would be long gone by now. She must be sitting with this man. Oh god, she probably thinks I'm trying to make a move on him or something.
"Sorry, really sorry, I thought you were someone else." I tell the man, and then look at the woman apologetically whilst I get up out of the chair. I look around frantically, not seeing Harry anywhere, so when I spot a 'bathroom' sign, I bolt. Like Usain. I seem to be doing that a lot lately.
I'm walking through the narrow hallway in an attempt to find the toilet, when all of a sudden I feel two arms grab me out of haste. I try and jerk out of the person's grasp, but I can feel whoever it is begin to shake with laughter.
Hold on.
It couldn't be.
"Well that was somewhat amusing if I do say myself," a deep voice murmurs quietly in my ear. He loosens his grip on me so I find myself slowly turning around to face him. He's smirking like he knows something I don't. What a cheeky bugger. And I can't believe he just witnessed that hot mess.
"Don't even get me started, Harry..." I know I'm blushing like mad. Who wouldn't be?
Nobody. That's who.
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Finally another chapter!! I hadn't written in a while so it felt really weird to be honest! FINALLY Harry and Miller have reunited, and I'm so excited for what's to come!!! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you again hopefully soon!
leeeggendsss! xxxxxx