Hello everybody.
New update. Twice a week updates did happen this week.
Fingers crossed for next week.
Have a lovely weekend. And let's get ready for Harry at the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame
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Thirty-Four
I surveyed my new dwellings, reaching the conclusion it was a step up from my prior one. I mean tour bus trumps backstage folding chair every time, does it not?
"Blis, there's still a lot to sort out, so don't get too comfortable here." A tiny voice said inside my head. To be honest, I'm not in a position to tell you where that tiny voice was coming from, it might be Anger, or Fear, or Common Sense. My money is on Self-preservation.
Since catching Harry kissing a long-haired blonde beautiful stranger in his dressing room an hour and change ago, all my systems had effectively shut down. Of course, my heart was fracturing into countless tiny pieces, but Self-Preservation had taken over propelling me to flee from the scene and get as far away from Harry as I could. Him being the perpetrator of the heart fracture situation. No trial needed, Harry was guilty, there was no reasonable doubt that could set him free.
The tour bus was nice enough. I had taken a seat at the back, generously wide and comfortable, with the added feature of a button that when pushed, allowed the seat to recline to a fully horizontal position. There was also a flat screen to watch movies or telly, Wi-fi, ports to recharge mobiles and laptops. Heck, there might even be a mini-bar around.
"Better not go down the liquor route," Self-preservation warned me. "Let's get us some nice crunchy fatty food, that calms down our stress."
I chanced a look at the bus's canteen but to no avail. It was filled with healthy food. I was even out of chocolate bars. Harry had provided my usual dose the night before, as he always did, but I had already eaten it. I was counting on him getting me some more Butterfingers for my daily fix, but I could no longer count on that.
My frantic search through the canteen cupboards and fridge seemed to catch the attention of the few crew members who were also passengers of the bus. "We were planning on getting burgers on this little joint we know, before reaching Vegas." One of them told me, "you are welcome to join us." I thanked them profusely. "The prospect of a juicy burger and very salty chips sat very well with me.
I resumed my position on my chosen seat and reached for my earphones. The crew members seemed to get the hint and left me alone. Finding suitable music proved to be nearly impossible. Of course, my go-to playlist when I was upset was Harry's songs, but it was physically impossible for me to listen to him singing at the moment. That also ruled out andy One Direction related music which extended to all five 1D albums, and all solo works of former 1D members. Ed Sheeran was 1D by association. Harry was known for associating with Adele, Taylor Swift, Little Mix, Coldplay, Bono, Ariana Grande, Demi Lovato, Paul McCartney. Muttering about how Harry has ruined music for me, I finally settled on 5 Seconds of Summer, since Harry seemed to be jealous of Ashton. Take that Styles, payback time!
"You know, listening to 5SOS isn't really payback" A very timid voice, belonging to Hope, spoke up. "You might want to give Harry a chance to explain. You know, so you can enjoy music again."
"Don't listen to Hope right now," Self-preservation advised, "It'll only mess you up more."
The thing with Hope's voice is that no matter how soft it sounds, or how little it says, it has a way of slipping inside your mind and taking over your senses. So, in the wake of Hope's comment, I reached out for my phone, which I had turned off right after texting Harry.
No sooner had I flipped the on button on my mobile, that dozens of text messages arrived. All were from Harry, and all were more or less in this vein:
"What's wrong with you, baby?"
"Are you angry at me?"
"What have I done?"
"Please, answer me."
"Please, please, please forgive me. Whatever I did please forgive me."
There were also many missed calls, all from Harry. He had left several voice messages, again asking me what was wrong and asking for forgiveness, although stating he didn't know what he was being accused of.
Reading and listening to all those messages, only made me feel worse. He had been kissing another girl and was feigning innocence, pretending not to know what he had done.
I switched my phone off again and joined the crew for burgers and chips. I even ordered a milkshake and bought myself four Snickers bars.
We arrived at Las Vegas at seven o'clock in the morning, after my fats and carbs overload I had managed a few winks, so I wasn't really sleepy. I planned on getting myself settled on my room and doing some exploring around the hotel.
I was expecting some trouble at check-in, because of the last-minute change in reservations. The stony-faced hotel employee at the front desk typed the reservation code I gave with a skeptical and condescending expression on her face. No doubt from, taking a look at my Treat People With Kindness tee and hoodie she thought I was a stalker fangirl trying to get a room in the same hotel as Harry.
When her computer screen began bleeping, her whole demeanor changed "Welcome Ms. Clarke" she said, with a sucking-up tone, "it's an honor to assist a VIP client."
At those words, my mouth dropped? Was she talking about me? I, little Bliss Clarke from an unremarked, tiny university town in England was a VIP?
"Your personal concierge will soon be here to assist, you to your suite. The complimentary champagne is already chilling. Do you wish to book any spa appointments? Maybe an ayurvedic massage?"
"I think there's been a mistake," I said, after finally managing to close my mouth "Here, let me show you my passport."
I handed her my traveling documents, which contained a photo ID, surely that ought to straighten this whole thing up.
"As you wish" she answered, humoring me, "Right. It's confirmed you're booked on the Presidential Suite. It's a two bedroom suite. You'll be on bedroom number two and Mr. Styles will be on bedroom number one. Here are your card keys."
That explained it. Harry had something to do with this after all. After the first couple dozen messages, he had maintained air silence. Although I had turned my phone off, I found myself turning it back on and checking for any more texts or missed calls. I half expected him to call the crew members and insist on turning the bus around, he can be set on getting his way at times. Instead, he had changed my single room reservations to luxury accommodation with him, in an adjacent bedroom, included in the package.
"I'd feel more comfortable in a simpler room" I tried to reason with the hotel employee,
"Are there any single rooms available I could check into?"
"Sorry, there are no available rooms. The hotel is booked up due to the iHeart Radio festival." She informed me, "People are trying to get glimpses of a 1D reunion with all three Niall, Louis, and Harry performing at the same venue."
"Well, then the Presidential Suite will have to do," I said, with a bad news tone in my voice.
"Excellent!" the hotel desk attendant cried, "It's the best room on the premises. Your utmost comfort is guaranteed, or your money back."
Of course, I wouldn't be comfortable being on the same premises as my lying cheating boyfriend, but I very much doubt that would be covered by the money back guarantee.
Giving in to the situation, I followed two teenage looking lads who had taken hold of my suitcases, into the lift and up to the room Harry had arranged for us.
Standing in front of the room, I almost turned back and ran. I wanted to avoid at all costs the whole tipping situation. I never knew how much to tip anybody anywhere, it was very anxiety causing situation for me. But seeing it was unavoidable, I gulped, sighed and faced the firing squad. The spotty lads opened the door for me, showed the room around for controls for air conditioning, lighting, music, and such amenities.
Doing some quick mental math, taking into consideration the weight of each suitcase and the man effort divided by the time required to carry them I dipped into my purse and pulled out a ten dollar bill. What I really did was look into my wallet for any available cash, finding what I thought was a one dollar bill but turned out to be a much higher one (the aforementioned ten dollar bill), but you know that all that quick mental math, and man effort and time required stuff sounds so much better.
I offered the guys my pitiful attempt at a tip, and much to my surprise they quickly backed away, emphatically declaring "No tipping necessary, ma'am. Mr. Styles has already taken care of it all. Feel free to call us in you require anything else."
Well at least, although Harry had managed to get me to sleep in the same quarters as he for the next two to three days in a sneaky roundabout way, he still had been useful in the no tip department.
The room was massively gorgeous. Since the tour had barely started I hadn't stayed in any hotel rooms, I had suspected Harry occupied luxurious dwellings whilst touring, nevertheless, it did blow my mind away. I mean, he wouldn't need to go out and for a run, he could just run around the room, it was that big.
My room surveyance was cut short by a discreet tapping at the door. I dug out the worn ten dollar bill once more, surely the lads had changed their mind about the tip. I couldn't be sure about how far ten dollars would last in such an expensive gaming city as Las Vegas, but I didn't have any more on me.
I needn't had bothered with the tip, because standing at the on the hallways was a non-descript age man (you know the kind where you neither say there are young nor say they are old), dressed in immaculate livery with a massive floral bouquet.
"Good morning, ma'am." He said, in a very efficient manner "I'm the Presidential Suite concierge. I'm delivering these flowers courtesy of Mr. Styles."
"Thank you" I croaked.
"Let me set them for you," the private concierge said, walking into the room and placing the arrangement in the suite's sitting room table. "This is for you also," he said handing me a sealed envelope.
"Thank you," I said. I was being repetitive, but..... was there any more to say?
"Will that be all ma'am?" he asked politely.
"Yeah, sure" I replied, dismissing him.
"Certainly, ma'am." He said, "if you need anything press the red call button on the phone. Have an excellent day."
He left, with noiseless steps. I ripped the envelope open, inside was a note from Harry.
"Bliss, my angel.
My love. My baby. I'm extremely sorry.
I apologize profusely.
I know you wanted to take things slow, and I pushed.
Although yesterday was the most amazing night of my life, and I don't regret it. I am very sorry for pushing you. We should have waited.
Being with you makes me the happiest man on earth. (Also the luckiest).
I wanted to book us in the same room. But I haven't. I've booked you in a room next to mine, just to assure you I can wait.
Please forgive me.
I'm flying out as soon as I can, I'll arrive at Vegas at noon and we'll sort this out.
Harry xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx (endless kisses)
P.S. I wanted to send you forty-eight bouquets, for each hour you've been my girlfriend. But I don't want to scare you off. So I settled for one bouquet with forty-eight flowers.
It was a typewritten note, he had surely mail over to the flower shop. It was an amazingly romantic gesture. But it wasn't enough.
He was still not addressing the real issue. He was acting as though him kissing somebody else last night had never happened.
"We still can't face him," Self-preservation said, "we might kill him, and he's still our boys. We need to keep running."
I weighed my options. It was eight a.m. Harry would be here in four more hours. Mindlessly I turned the telly on, and some commercials for the Late Late show came on, showing James Corden goofing around. It gave me an idea.
I turned on my phone and called Ben Winston. I presented to him the facts: That Harry was not performing that night, that our writing sessions were postponed for a few days, and that we'de be touring far away from LA in for the following months. And then pleaded with him to let me attend a taping of the Late Late show in LA that very night. He agreed.
Harry might be coming to Las Vegas but I was not going to be here when he arrived.
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Should Bliss keep running from Harry; or, should she confront him?
Please hit the star
Loads of love!
E, xoxo