"Lila-lie, CHH, Lila-lie-lie, Lila-lie, Lila-lie, CHH," I sang, pleased when Lila stopped crying and only stared at me, mouth ajar. "Lila-lie, lie, Lila-lie, Lila-Lila-lie..."
"I'm starting to think you only agreed to her name because of that song..." Mads said, walking into the kitchen with a basket of laundry under one arm, filled mostly with Lila's little clothes.
"It works, doesn't it? Look, she's mesmerized." I stared into my little girl's almost-blue eyes and smiled, rocked her a little bit back and forth in my arms, then kept singing. "Lila-lie, CHH—"
Madelyn's arms wound around my waist, and I felt the press of her cheek against my shoulder. "That doesn't answer my question."
There was distinct amusement in her voice, and I paused my movements, glancing at her from the corner of my eye where she stood behind me. "'The Boxer' is a classic."
"I knew it," Mads said, grinning as she walked away, heading for the sink.
"But it wasn't the only reason I agreed to it," I insisted, turning to face her with the warm bundle that was Lila Jane, still quiet, but a bit squirmy in my arms. "I love the name itself. It suits her."
Mads chuckled a little as she started loading the dishwasher. "I'm just messing with you. I kind of love the fact that you've already associated a song with her."
"And it's the perfect one, too. All about getting back up when life beats you down." I looked at Lila Jane in my arms. "The fighter still remains, isn't that right, my girl?"
She gurgled a little in response, which was more than enough for me.
"You've got to get going soon, don't you?" Mads asked after a few moments of quiet between us, during which time I'd started bouncing Lila in my arms again.
I shifted from foot to foot, rocking her, and glanced at the time on the stove. "Another couple minutes, yeah."
I'd been feeling it since Friday—separation anxiety. It was a relief to come home to my family after that day of meetings. Because really, home was the only place I truly wanted to be these days. But I'd made a commitment, and like Mads had said time and time again, it was part of my dream to do another film.
Even if it did feel like it was interfering with another dream now. A bigger one. A dream that had only grown bigger once Lila had actually arrived.
I stared down at her—my daughter. Into the eyes that were looking more and more like her mother's with each passing day. (Mads said I was seeing what I wanted to see, and I told her it worked both ways—Lila's eyes were most certainly blue.) Her full cheeks were pink, and her eyes lined with tears that didn't seem to be going anywhere for the moment. Her little, pink lips were open in a small "O" shape—like something had just surprised her. And her head of dark hair was like silk on her small, soft head.
Her tiny hands reached for mine as I brushed a finger over her hair, marveling at how small she was, how soft she was, how delicate—then I gave her my finger, and her little fist curled around it. Looking into her big, soulful eyes, so intent on mine, it was like she was begging me to stay, to not leave her, and then—
I gasped. "Mads."
"What? What is it?" Mads turned the water off at the sink, clearly panicked, but I didn't even have time to apologize.
"She's smiling!" I stared down at Lila, sure I wasn't imagining it, but needing Mads to confirm the truth for me anyway. Needing to share it with her.
"Oh, God," Mads said, sounding relieved and not nearly as excited as I needed her to be as she finally came up beside me. "Jesus, you scared me to death."
"But she's smiling, look!" My spirits plummeted almost immediately when I noted the frown now gracing Lila's features, the wrinkle of her brows...
"She's pooping," Mads said, and I didn't need to look at her to know she was trying to rein in her amusement.
"She wasn't a moment ago," I insisted, feeling disappointment as well as Lila's muscles clench with effort against my arms. "She was one hundred percent smiling up at me two seconds ago."
Mads giggled and planted a kiss on my shoulder, patting me on the back before walking back to the sink. "Maybe you'll get her to smile again while you change her diaper."
I glanced back at her in annoyance combined with disappointment and amusement. "She really was smiling."
"I believe you," Mads said, turning the faucet back on, and running the back of a wet hand over her brow. "But I'm thinking it was probably just gas."
I started to smell the product of Lila's efforts and held her a bit closer to me as I kicked aside the toy I'd dropped only a few minutes ago. "Way to bring me down, Mads."
She laughed at the sink as I headed for the changing table just beyond the kitchen in the television room. "I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, not sounding sorry enough for my liking. "But the proof's in her diaper at the moment."
I gave her an unamused glare over my shoulder, to which she responded with more laughter.
"Think of it this way," Mads said as I set Lila down on the changing table. The sound of running water stopped as she said, "She's still giving you a little gift before you leave for your first day of work."
Lila was settled enough on the table so that I could really glare at Mads after that statement—all the while trying hard not to laugh myself.
Mads had no such qualms and didn't hold back. She doubled over on the other side of the counter, an empty container and a dishtowel still in her hands.
"Glad you're having a laugh over all this," I said, smiling now myself as I unbuttoned Lila's onesie from the bottom.
"I'm sorry," she said again, not sounding particularly apologetic at all. "I know you're disappointed, it's just... I think the sleep deprivation is making it funnier."
That was the other bit. Lila had been up a couple times last night, screaming her head off to nurse, and then with a dirty nappy later on. So, we weren't feeling particularly well-rested as of six this morning when we woke for the day.
Lila included.
"Holy shit," I mumbled upon opening Lila's nappy.
"You can say that again," Mads said from behind me. She was picking up toys we'd left out the night before.
I stared at the mess in Lila's nappy with a wrinkled nose. She only stared up at me with her fist in her mouth. "How does someone so small have such big poos?"
Mads came over to look, and in the back of my mind, I realized it should've been quite funny that the two of us were standing here, staring at poo with such interest. And I suppose it was in a sense. But the smell wasn't doing much for my sense of humor. Only a newborn could bring about this kind of love.
"They've been getting bigger," Mads said as she smiled at Lila, who stared back at her mother with interest as Mads leaned down and kissed her forehead, swiping her fingers over her hair affectionately. "She's our growing girl."
I grabbed some wipes, and set about cleaning her up. "She's our messy, growing girl."
Mads breathed a laugh before saying, sounding alarmed, "Do you have enough time? I can take over if you—"
"It's fine," I said, wanting to prolong the moment despite it being a moment filled with poo. I set the dirty wipes aside and reached for a few more as Lila squirmed. "This'll only take another minute."
Mads squeezed my arm and without saying another word, set about picking up more toys and clothes we'd left strewn about the room, leaving me to take care of Lila's diaper by myself, and to the little bit of time I had left with her before a full day without seeing her.
It was amazing to me that I'd agreed to this. That I'd thought this was a good idea. Amazing to me that Madelyn had insisted I take on the project after we'd found out about Lila. I knew I had already agreed to it, that I'd already signed the contract when we'd found out she was pregnant, but surely they would've understood. Surely, they could've found someone else. Surely, we could've figured something out.
Mads had been right, it was my dream at the time. But I was seeing things differently now.
I was seeing things as a new father.
And I didn't want to leave her—them. And seeing Lila smile at me (I didn't care if she pooed right afterwards, I knew that was a real smile), it made me anxious. Because I knew there were going to be more things—little things—that she'd do for the first time that I was going to miss. And I didn't want to miss them.
I didn't want to miss any of her smiles or laughter. I didn't want to miss her tears or her explosive poos. I didn't want to miss any of the small changes in her behavior or the little shifts in her mood. I didn't want to miss her feedings. I didn't want to miss out on any time watching her sleep. I didn't want to miss any of her growth, at any point down the line, but especially so soon after she was born.
So, even though I was changing a dirty nappy, I savored every second of having her look at me, and sang her song as I fit a new, clean one onto her small body, transfixing her completely.
"Lila-lie, CHH. Lila-lie-lie, Lila-lie, Lila-lie, CHH, Lila-lie-lie, Lila-lie, Lila, Lila-lie..."
I gasped once more. "She did it again!"
"What?" Mads asked, mid-reach for the laundry detergent above the washer-machine in the kitchen.
"Mads!" I exclaimed, afraid to touch Lila, still smiling so that she might keep smiling, too. So far, so good. "Come, look! Quick!"
Mads set the detergent down in a hurry, and I kept singing to try and keep that smile—a real smile—on my little girl's face.
"Lila-lie, CHH. Lila-lie-lie, Lila-lie, look," I said to Mads as she crept up beside me, both of us afraid to startle the smile off Lila's face. "Lila-lie, CHH, Lila-lie-lie, Lila-lie..."
Mads gasped beside me, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her hands go up to cover her mouth.
Lila was smiling. Staring at me like I'd painted the sky blue. But then, that happy gaze slid to Mads, and that smile stayed exactly where it was.
"Lila," Mads breathed, almost reaching for our baby, but holding back. Neither of us wanted that smile to disappear. "Oh my God."
"I told you!" I insisted, still smiling, my voice still light.
"You did," Mads said, and her voice didn't sound so happy anymore. It sounded almost as if... She sniffled. "I can't believe she's smiling."
Mads was crying.
This had happened quite a bit since Lila was born. Ever since we got back together, Mads had been rather emotional. Or rather, quicker to cry than she had been that first year we were together. It was as if the loss of her father, and her first child, had flipped a switch somewhere inside her, making her more sensitive to the world around her.
I loved it about her. Found it not only endearing, but completely beautiful. She felt everything so very deeply because she cared so very deeply.
Since Lila was born, those tears came even more easily. And seeing her get emotional over something as simple as our daughter smiling made everything about me go warm with love.
Without a word, I pulled her close as I'd taken to doing in these particularly emotional moments. I found that holding her always seemed to help gently ease whatever she was feeling, but it also did wonders for me. Because when she expressed herself like that, so freely, without hesitation, I couldn't help but feel even more emotional about the world as well.
Even if her tears were spurred by a ridiculous amount of hormones.
"Our little baby," Mads whispered against me, both of us still staring down at Lila, who wasn't smiling anymore, but still looking up at us intently. Mads sniffled again, and brought a hand up from around my waist to wipe her cheeks. "It's already going so fast."
Don't remind me, I wanted to say. But I held back and tightened my arms around her, even if the reminder that things were moving quickly—that I'd be missing these things for the next four months—made my heart ache for a different reason.
Lila kicked a little bit, as if to say, "Pick me up! I don't want to lay down anymore!" And Mads seemed to understand.
She sniffled again and reached for her. "You'd better go." She scooped the baby up, and Lila fussed just a bit. Mads settled her against her shoulder and looked at me, her eyes still red. "You're going to be late."
I patted my pockets for lack of anything else to do, already finding my phone, wallet, and keys exactly where they should be. There was no reason to delay the inevitable any longer.
Much to my dismay.
"Are you okay?" I asked, worried to leave her alone when she was feeling so emotional.
Mads smiled, rocking Lila softly by shifting her weight from foot to foot. "I'm fine." She sniffled again, but there was no sign of more tears. "Promise."
I looked from her to Lila's little body. Like a plucked chicken, I'd thought countless times—that's what her tiny, squishy body looked like when Mads held her like that.
"Go," Mads said, lifting up onto her tiptoes to give me a kiss. She looked into my eyes when she stepped away—so sure of herself, so confident, so ready for the day ahead.
More ready than I was.
"We'll be fine," she assured me, smiling still.
I stared at her for another second, waiting for her to break, waiting for her to cry again, if only so that it would give me the excuse I was looking for—the excuse to stay with them.
But Mads held strong, and in the midst of my sadness, my anxiety about leaving, I was ridiculously proud of her. I stepped forward to give her another kiss before looking at the back of Lila's head.
"Bye, little one," I murmured, touching my lips to her soft hair, feeling the warmth of her skin on my mouth. "I love you so much. I'll be home later."
I stepped around Mads to look into Lila's eyes over her mother's shoulder. "Alright?" I reached up, touched her fingers with mine. She looked at me with her mouth open, rounded again, her eyes fixed on mine. "I'll see you later, my little girl. I love you," I repeated.
"I love you," I said to Mads as she turned, kissing her again.
"Love you, too," she said as I forced myself to step away, to turn around and head for the front door. "Have a great first day!"
One step after another led me out the front door, leaving the loves of my life behind. And it felt wrong. Worse than wrong, it felt... It felt like I was leaving behind vital parts of me, and I didn't know if I'd be able to function properly without them near.
But I managed to get myself into my car with fifteen minutes to spare before I needed to be on set. And after another minute wasted looking at the house, still wondering if this was the right thing to do, I managed to start the car and leave. And once I was on the road, I kept going, even though everything in me was telling me to turn around, to go back, it was too soon to leave them.
My phone dinged, and I couldn't help myself, I glanced at the text, afraid it was already Mads to say something had gone wrong.
But it was just Jeff asking where I was, so I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat, frustrated with him and myself for the way I was currently feeling.
Horrible. Anxious. Homesick in a way I never had been—especially considering the fact that I was going home in a matter of hours, not a matter of days or weeks or months as I was used to. I already missed them. And there was nothing to be done about it but get through the day.
"There you are," Jeff said once I walked into the studio, hurrying over to me. "I was getting worried."
People were milling about around us, but I barely registered them. Just waved and said hello on autopilot, feeling resentful towards everyone here for taking me away from my family. As if they had anything to do with it.
"First meeting starts in five," Jeff said, and when I didn't respond, he handed me a cup. "Got you a coffee. Figured you'd need it."
Surprised, I took it from him, pleased to find it hot. "Thanks."
"No problem." I felt him eyeing me as I took a sip. I'd had a cup earlier, but it was definitely time for another. We started walking further inside, and he took that as cue to launch into his usual string of bullet points. "So, I've taken a look at what's on the schedule today, and it looks like you're going to be filming three scenes."
I tried to listen carefully, tried to put the anxiety aside. But it was filling my chest like a poison, reaching and stretching to infect every inch of me.
"And when you do the scene with Cillian, you'll have a stunt double. Now, I told Chris and Emma that you'd be willing to do your own stunts, cause I know you were adamant about giving it a try yourself, but—"
"It's fine," I said, wanting to just get started, wanting to get to the end of the day, wanting everything to be as easy, as simple as possible. I glanced around at the set, smiling when I noticed Vanessa Unger pass us by. She smiled somewhat shyly back and kept walking.
"Uh... okay," Jeff said.
The green screen was huge and sprawled before us now, and I paused, watching for a moment as crew members raced back and forth across the vast space, looking at cell phones, carrying wound-up cables to and fro, talking into their headsets...
"Your dressing room is this way if you want to get yourself together a little before the meeting."
It was the first thing Jeff had said so far that caught my attention. I looked at him, feeling bad that it was also the first time this morning I'd looked him in the eye. I nodded. "Yeah. Okay."
I needed the moment. Or several of them. I couldn't handle idle chatter right now, or even chatter that I probably needed to hear. I just needed a second to collect myself, to shake off this feeling, to get myself in the right headspace.
The room was small, but comfortable. There was a bathroom attached, and a leafy sort of plant sat in the corner beside a cushy-looking couch. There was a note taped to my mirror, and a vase full of flowers sat on the counter. I promised myself I'd read it later.
"I'll give you a couple minutes," Jeff said from behind me. I glanced back at him to see him watching me warily. He always did know when something was off with me. And despite how I'd been feeling about him a minute ago, I was grateful for him now.
"Thanks," I said. He pressed his lips together in acknowledgement and backed out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I sank down onto the couch. Hung my head in my hands. Pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes.
This was fine, I told myself. Everything was okay. They were okay.
But the longer I tried to convince myself, the more I could feel my chest getting tighter. That ache turning into a pain. Guilt. That's what this was. The worst kind of guilt.
I should've been home. I should've stayed with them. I never should've taken this on now, no matter what Mads had said at the time. How could I be so selfish? How could I honestly have thought that this was a good idea? How could I—
My phone dinged.
This was it, I thought as I slid it from my pocket. This was when she told me that she was wrong, that she shouldn't have made me do this. This was when she admitted that she couldn't handle it alone, and she wanted me with her. And I wouldn't have blamed her. I didn't think I could handle it alone either—I wouldn't want to handle it without her there with me every step of the way.
It was her.
She'd sent a picture. A selfie. My two girls. Mads smiling into the camera, and Lila staring at it, stoic, curious maybe, her blue eyes wide and intent as ever, even with her head tucked beneath Madelyn's chin.
Just wanted to wish Daddy luck for his first day. We're so proud of you. We love you and we're rooting for you, always. xoxo
They were beautiful. They were so beautiful, and they were mine.
And I felt tears at the backs of my eyes, even as a smile overtook my mouth.
"Alright, man," came Jeff's voice with the creaking of the door as it opened. "Time to get started."
I could barely tear my eyes away from the picture, but I did so that he could see I was smiling now. "One second."
His lips quirked a bit, and he nodded before pulling the door shut once more.
I started typing. I love you both waaaaay more. Thank you. xx
It was like a balm, that message, that picture. I stared at it a moment longer, saving it to my phone, before Jeff poked his head in again. "Sorry, dude, but you really gotta get moving."
"Right," I said, blowing a breath out and jumping to my feet. "Yeah." The anxiety was still there, but the resolve I'd been missing was there now, too. "Let's do this."
Jeff patted me quickly on the back as I passed him, and I felt Madelyn's message sink straight into my heart. She didn't think of this as my leaving her. She wanted me to do this. She was proud of me for doing this.
Now, I just had to do everything I could to make sure that pride wasn't misplaced.
So, I squandered the anxious feelings as best I could. Let her words, her encouragement chase the poison of them away, back, back, back into a small knot that stayed in my chest, but didn't spread. For the moment, at least.
It was the best I could hope for given the circumstances.
"Harry," Chris said as I approached. He held out his hand for me to shake, but I could tell his mind was going in a million different directions.
So, I didn't say more than, "Good to see you, Chris."
"Alright," he announced, confirming my suspicion as he turned from me and took in the crowd around him. I spotted Cillian standing at the other end of the circle and went straight for him. "Thank you all for being here on time."
"Hey," Cillian said in a low voice as I approached. I could feel Jeff on my heels as I shook Cillian's hand and patted his back. "You ready for this?"
I smiled a little. But abruptly, once again, felt less ready by the moment, Madelyn's encouragement evaporating into thin air. But I kept trying to put my mind on a different path. One that wasn't trying to convince me that I was the worst person in the world.
"Ready as I'll ever be," I muttered as Chris spoke over us.
Cillian smiled like we were both in on a secret, and gave me a strong pat on the back as we both spun to face Chris and pay attention.
This wasn't going to be an easy film. It was going to be grueling work as far as I could tell from the script. Emotionally and physically. Just like Dunkirk had been. So my fears about the experience weren't just because I was leaving Mads and Lila behind.
A great deal of them were founded in the knowledge that I wasn't a young kid anymore. That I wasn't as carefree or untethered as I was then. My mind had been freer from responsibility, allowing me to really throw my all into the roles I had to play.
Now I had a family to worry about. Mads and Lila were always going to be there at the back of my mind, even though the rational part of me knew that they would be alright, that I would see them later. And I didn't yet know how that would affect my performance where my career was concerned.
"So," Chris said, glancing over all of us once more, leaving me to realize that I hadn't heard a word of what he'd said. He smiled. "Let's get started."
I glanced around as everyone started moving in different directions, wondering where the hell I was supposed to go, and cursing myself for being so distracted. Anxiety worked its way through me again, telling me that I couldn't do this now, that I should just go home, I was already screwing it up...
"You're not in this scene," said a voice, and a hand gripped my elbow immediately afterwards. Jeff continued to talk to me in low tones as he ushered me away, back towards my dressing room. "You'll be in the one after this with Cillian and Vanessa."
I breathed a sigh that wasn't of relief—but more panic. I shouldn't have needed him to tell me that.
"Thanks," I muttered.
His grip softened on my arm until it was gone completely. Then, Jeff stopped walking. "Are you alright?"
I stopped, too. "I'll be fine."
His brows rose. "But you're not fine now?"
"I'll be fine," I repeated, trying not to get too upset.
"Fine," Jeff said firmly before glancing at my hands. "Where's your coffee?"
I had to think about it for a moment. "Er, think I left it in the dressing room before."
"Okay, go drink it. Relax. I'll come get you when it's time to start getting ready, okay?"
"Yeah. Okay," I said, feeling glum.
Jeff patted my chest and back simultaneously before walking off to who-knows-where. Leaving me to head to my dressing room.
I felt like a failure, and I hadn't even done anything yet. I slid my phone from my pocket on my walk over, needing the reassurance of Madelyn's message and the picture of my girls once more.
"Harry?"
I looked up to find Vanessa walking towards me, a wide smile gracing her features. With long, blonde hair, and large brown eyes, she was beautiful, and quickly becoming Hollywood's new "it" girl—or at least, as far as I could tell from all the gossip shows. She'd done a couple of films already, but this was her first big role, and all of Hollywood was buzzing over her for having impressed Chris.
Which led me to remember the buzz surrounding me when he'd cast me in Dunkirk—my first ever film role coming out of One Direction before launching my solo career in music. And it had been hard hearing that there was so much doubt in my ability amongst the general public. Hard knowing that so many people were already writing me off. It made those first few days on set all the more difficult. Not only was I brand new to the film scene, but I had all those whispers of doubt in my head, telling me I couldn't do it.
Just like now, I suppose.
I'd been able to work against the whispers then, to prove them, and everyone who doubted me, wrong. I took a deep breath as Vanessa neared, telling myself that I would get through it once more. She was facing the same kind of criticism, and in her smile, I saw nothing but confidence.
"Just wanted to say 'hi' before our scene later," she said, coming to a stop just a few feet from me.
We'd met this past Friday, of course, but hadn't really had a chance to get to know one another, so I really didn't feel up to small talk.
She stepped a little closer to me after a few moments of my silence, and she was just a couple of inches shorter than me in her sneakers. "I'm a little nervous," she said with a smile, keeping her voice low and crossing her arms. "Any advice?"
I felt my eyes go wide. "You're asking me?"
Vanessa's brow wrinkled a bit. "Well, you've worked with Chris before. I'm terrified I'm going to disappoint him."
I didn't know why exactly, but the fact that she was asking me made me forget my own issues for the moment.
"First of all," I said, my dressing room forgotten, too. "Get that thought out of your head. If you're too focused on not disappointing him, you're not going to be able to give a good performance regardless."
Vanessa nodded enthusiastically, and the look of fear in her eyes made me keep going.
"As intimidating as he might seem, he's really there for you in scene. Like... practically on top of you sometimes. But in a good way. He knows exactly what he wants and exactly what to say to get it out of you, so try not to worry too much about not delivering something exactly to his liking. He's going to lead you there no matter what."
Vanessa blew out a breath, and though she still looked nervous, she nodded again, smiled a little easier. "Right. That's what everyone keeps saying. And he's been nothing but nice to me thus far, so I really have no reason to be intimidated, but..."
"But he's Chris Nolan," I offered with a smile, remembering the feeling exactly from when I'd started filming Dunkirk.
Her eyes went wide as she exclaimed, "Exactly! Oh my God, you get it!"
We both chuckled for a moment as her hand landed on my arm, a light grip that lasted no more than a few seconds.
"Like you said... I have worked with him before," I joked. "But in all seriousness, you have nothing to worry about. I mean, I've been where you are. First film with him, lots of people out there doubting your abilities... But clearly, Chris saw something in you he knew would work for the character. That's all that matters. You just have to trust him, and trust yourself."
She blew out another breath that came with a smile, and looked up at me with relief in her eyes. "Thank you. You don't know how helpful it is to hear that."
I nodded, slightly embarrassed now. "It's no problem."
She brought a hand to her forehead, still smiling, almost to the point of laughter again. She seemed slightly embarrassed, too. "I'm glad I'll be doing my first scene with you. I think that'll make it easier."
Something like pride welled up in my chest. "I hope so," I said, smiling again. "If you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask."
"Thank you," she said again, gripping my arm a little more firmly this time. "Guess I'll see you out there?"
"Yeah," I said as she let go and started backing away. "See you in a bit."
With one last smile, Vanessa walked away, and I turned towards my dressing room. Strangely, I felt better having talked to her. Maybe it was because I had the chance to reassure someone who wasn't me.
My coffee was exactly where I didn't remember leaving it—on the coffee table in front of the couch. I sat in front of it, and lifted my phone, which was still in my hand.
Taking a sip—to find it already lukewarm—I opened up Madelyn's text message again, and stared at the picture of my girls and their message for me. Mads looked exactly as she had when I'd left, as did Lila. Tired, but blissfully so. They were a little further into their day now, as was I, and I hoped everything was alright.
And I missed them. Still. I missed them terribly.
I sat back on the couch, feeling that anxiety again. But I stared at my girls and wanted to make them proud. Or rather, I wanted to be deserving of their pride. It had been a long time since I'd done this, but that was the thing—I had done this before, and with these same people, to boot. At least I wasn't coming into it completely fresh like Vanessa. And it was like I said to her, there was no doubt in my mind that Chris was going to do everything he could to get the best out of me, no matter how long it might take.
Maybe I had to have a little more faith in myself. Maybe I had to think of my girls at home in another way. Not with worry for them, though I had a feeling that would always be there, but with the determination to do the best by them, in everything I took on. To make them proud in whatever challenge I faced.
Four months. This would only be four months, and then I never had to take on another project again if I didn't want to. So for now, I tried to breathe through it, to let that reassurance calm me.
But those anxious feelings still burned hot, only placated a little bit by the thought. I groaned. Hung my head in my hands, and reminded myself of my words to Vanessa once more.
Maybe the next four months wouldn't be so bad if only I could take my own damn advice.
___
Author's Note:
Lila-lie, CHH!
Harry wasn't the only one with ulterior motives when it came to Lila's name ;) Story time: Picking her name was hard. I had it narrowed down to three name combos when I decided I just didn't know which I liked best. I could hear Harry and Mads saying any of them. So, I threw them out there to my sister to see which one she liked, and as soon as she heard the name Lila, she started singing The Boxer, and as soon as I heard her singing it, I heard Harry singing it, and I knew he would sing it to her. Voila! The baby's name became Lila Jane. And I couldn't love it more!
Anywhoooo, hope everyone's well! I miss you guys. How's life? Whatcha up to? Still listening to Niall's album? Same. I haven't watched Harry's BBC performances yet, and that's been hard. But otherwise, I'm hanging in there.
Ooh, also, hope you don't think this is too weird, but I'm not planning on giving too much detail about this "film" Harry's working on. Like, obviously, I'll have to provide some backstory to it at some point, but I just feel strange attaching something I made up (which it would have to be) to something even fictional Chris Nolan would do, ya feel me? It'll sorta be like when Harry let Mads listen to his album in ALLO--I didn't write lyrics or anything because that just would've felt wrong, but I didn't really need to, either. You could still glean that it was emotional and well-done and that's all you really needed to know, right? Hope that makes sense.
Okay, I don't feel like I have anything else to add, haha, so I'll leave it here. I really hope you liked this one!!! Please don't forget to vote/comment if you feel so inclined! I'd loooove to hear your thoughts as to what's going on so far. I know it's been a lot of set-up mostly, but soon enough, we'll be getting to the juicier bits, and I'M SO EXCITED :)
Love you all a ridiculous amount, and I'll meet you right back here in two weeks. xx