DreamingOfYou: Dear ILoveTommoBear, Thank you so much for your kind words. I love to hear from you and I’m so, so glad you enjoy my Fan Fictions. I see you are a Louis’ girl. Isn’t he the cutest? But I have to admit I’m more of a Harry’s girl. It is quite obvious isn’t it? He has a ‘je ne sais quoi’ that drives me insane. Sometimes it’s hard to communicate with other Harry’s girls because of some sort of strange rivalry, so it’s perfect to have a Louis’ one around. Hoping to hear from you soon. Tschüss xo.
Do I have to write her right away or is it better for me to wait a bit more? She won’t understand why ILoveTommoBear is so willing to chat with her; but, at the same time, she seems so interested in the exchange… I’ve been in my room reading for a while but there’s plenty of movement in the hotel room because tonight we leave to Sao Paulo for our second show in Brazil and next to last in South America. So far ‘Where We Are’ tour has been an outstanding experience. This continent is so different from everything I’ve ever known.
After that, we return to London to work on the new album and to rest a bit before Ireland, Great Britain and Europe’s tour, probably the most demanding leg of the whole tour. The advantage of performing in stadiums and larger venues is that tour dates become concentrated, so this year we have 69 concerts in comparison with 150 of last year. Exhausting shows are compensated with fewer dates, so everything seems to naturally balance it out.
As I reread our messages I got to understand why we were so shocked before. These girls use to write to us all the time, telling us how they feel about us, asking for a follow on Twitter. We also got to see how they communicate amongst them publically, but this is different. We aren’t supposed to know this, to find out. It’s as if we’re meddling into something we have no participation in. It’s about us but it’s their world, it’s their own particular universe, their code. I don’t know if it’s right for us to continue this path. Perhaps I’m not even meant to be reading these Fan Fictions. It’s their fantasies, for them only. We have their love and support already. This feels almost like spying. What would they think about us if they knew we are actually around, peeping at them?
A discreet knock on the door takes me out from my meditations. After a second, Louis and Stan appear behind the door.
“Can we come in, mate?” Louis mutters.
“Of course,” I say from my bed, as I set my laptop away. I see Stan has some paper sheets rolled in and a pen.
“So, have you been reading?” He asks, fixing one sheet on the wall with tape, turning his head to speak to me.
“I have,” I state. Suddenly I feel enthusiastic again. Maybe I’m too cautious and overthinking this. Louis seems to enjoy it enormously. He comes to sit right next to me.
“Well, that’s great–––Stan says, looking at the paper. But we’re not speaking about smut today,” he laughs. Louis giggles. He must have been reading something of that sort.
“Oh, shoot. I’ve been brought here under false promises,” he jokes.
“We don’t have too much time either. Maybe later–––Stan says, and glances at the paper. OK, where were we?–––he meditates. Yes, my thesis, which is Louis’ thesis, too. DreamingOfYou is French and older,” he writes down.
“It’s too easy,” I mumble.
“Well, it’s our fantasy but we have to start somewhere,” he claims. I nod at him and he carries on. “What’s the first thing we know about her, besides the fact that she writes Fan Fiction?”
“Her user name…” I state.
“Exactly! DreamingOfYou. Cute though…–––he says as he continues to write down. Well, what sort of information does this alias give to us?”
“It’s the name of a song!” Louis exclaims.
“Sure a clever dude, Tommo!–––Stan jokes. First thing that comes to mind of an average British is that it is a song from an English band, The Coral…”
“I am not average British…” Louis protests.
“Well, sure you are not–––Stan chuckles. It’s what she has to know her name implies to others.”
“Fine,” Louis says, crossing his arms over his chest.
“She surely knows the song,” I say, resting my hands behind my head and leaning.
“Yeah, surely–––Stan ironises. It was quite a hit in 2002! So, you were eight years old, and we were eleven.”
“She’s in her thirties!” Louis shouts, fisting his hands.
“Well, not so fast–––Stan cuts Louis’ enthusiasm. She could be fourteen or sixteen years old or even less by that time, and it’d be still perfectly logical. Remember MTV actually rotated music videos in that period…”
“So, maybe she is in her twenties,” Louis meditates, grazing his three days’ beard.
“Or she’s just a music-lover as you are…” I simply say to him, who glares at me, his hand still on his chin. “There’s nothing wrong or rare in knowing music that’s not from your own time…” I observe.
“Well, certainly–––Stan states. But it’s surely coherent with the second part of the main thesis. Perhaps it just indicates she’s English as we are…” He writes again.
“Fine, so it’s coherent,” Louis mocks him and chuckles.
“We always have to keep in mind this may be pure lucubration, because it could be part of a big fantasy–––Stan asserts, glancing at us. We are treating this as facts but later on this research we’ll need to meditate about it and try to determine whether it’s real life or dreaming.” Louis and I nod at each other.
“It would be a strange one,” Louis remarks.
“Yeah, you should read ‘Dark’–––I say. That is strange to me…”
“OK, we move on to her avatar–––Stan instructs us. What has this avatar in common with her user name?”
“It’s not directly related to me, as almost any other user on the site…” I remark. A fact that already caught my attention.
“Point to Mister Styles!” Stan exclaims moving his finger towards me. He’s having the biggest time of all. “It’s the other relevant aspect of her alias, which relates directly with her choice of avatar. Choices here seem to be the key–––he points out. Her profile picture is a photo of a very adorable young woman walking through a green field, brushing the grass with her fingers. Cute as a button!” He mocks me. Louis taps my shoulder.
“We don’t get to see her face either,” I mumble.
“It’s probably not her anyway. It’s a statement–––Stan says. Clearly she wants to remain anonymous as anybody else.” I don’t even have a profile picture yet. I’m putting one of Louis, for sure. He deserves it… I grab my MacBook. OK, done.
“So, our preliminary conclusions are: One, British or European girl between twenty and thirty years old; two, not an average directioner, because her profile is not directly related neither to Harry nor One Direction; three, discreet, wants to remain anonymous…” Louis enumerates, checking Stan’s list on the paper sheet.
“So, so clever. An underestimated genius!” Stan acclaims. Louis gets up and walks towards him. Halfway they meet to high five. At that very moment, we all freeze as Zayn appears by the door and stares at us in awe.
“What’s going on here?” He asks, looking towards the paper on the wall, puzzled.
“Come in!” Louis says pulling from his sleeve.
“What’s all this?” Zayn mumbles, pointing at the wall and Stan with the pen on his hand, standing perplexed by the interruption as much as I do.
“We are researching…” Louis says closing the door and dragging him next to my bed.
“Yeah, I see that. But about what topic?” He insists.
“Harry’s girl,” Louis explains.
“What girl?–––he asks looking at me. And, mainly, why do you need to research?”
“Harry’s girl from Fan Fiction!” Louis asserts and Zayn raises his eyebrows, disconcerted. He glances at me, then at the wall, then at me again and bursts into laughs.
“Oh, I get it!” Zayn claims, chuckling. I glare at him. “It’s OK; it’s OK, mate. Whatever makes you happy, mate…” He giggles, but finally starts to recompose himself.
“Yeah–––I harshly say to him. They’re my friends, and instead of criticising me they’re helping me to find out more about her.”
“But I’m your friend too!–––he claims. Why haven’t you told us? I want to participate in this. It seems like a lot of fun!”
“Zayn, if you want to get involved you have to be useful, and you’ll have to read. This is a serious matter,” Louis solemnly explains to him, resting his hand on Zayn’s shoulder.
“The more we are, the faster we read and build up the corpus…” Stan states.
“I’m in. I love reading,” Zayn says raising his finger.
“Great! Well, Harry, enlighten him into Fan Fiction’s world,” Stan orders me.
“And what about the other lads?” Zayn asks.
“They are better out–––Louis answers. They won’t understand…”
“OK, I won’t tell anything.”
“Good! Next meeting, tonight in Harry’s room after our flight, if conditions are favourable, or tomorrow at the stadium, at lunchtime. Everybody to his reading…” Stan cheers up. Louis pats everyone’s back.
–.–.–
I taught Zayn the website and the Fan Fictions we are focused into. I explained him what we’ve been talking about and the progress of our research. He seemed to understand and actually felt ecstatic about the whole new experience, and soon left to his room. It’s been a while I’m alone in this bedroom I’m about to abandon forever. I finish to pack my things and gather them near the door, along with the big pillow. I sit at the desk with my MacBook, my notebook and a biro, and I begin to read.
I removed his penis from his boxers, moistened my mouth and swirled the tip of my tongue on his glans, pushing the foreskin back with my lips. Harry trembled completely. I glanced up at him. His eyelids fluttered closed in pleasure and his lips were slightly parted. He seemed so fragile.
I closed my eyes one more time as my mind went blank. It was the most amazing sensation, to have him like that. I slid one hand on his length and with my other I grabbed him by the waist. He bent down a bit, gasping. I began to softly move my hand while I kissed and lapped him with my lips and my tongue.
My movements went eager as I felt Harry’s breathing became erratic and his penis pulsed beneath my touch. He started to shake and leant down a bit more, and I knew I had taken him to the edge and he was about to come. And then I felt it, his grip, a suffocated groan, his warmth in my tongue and a burning sensation flooding all around my centre.
Suddenly I’m sweating. Why do I have to come across these smut scenes all the time? I’m supposed to be reading notes and comments. How can she write like that? She surely knows what she’s talking about. It’s so easy to imagine it, especially with my name right there. She must be amazing at it... No, I can’t think about her this way. It’s wrong. She is a fan, for God’s sake! God, I need a blowjob so much. Maybe I’ll meet some girl in Sao Paulo. That would be, let’s say, healthy.
As I regain my composure I start to think I better write to her right now because my next two days will be busy and exhausting.
ILoveTommoBear: Hi, DreamingOfYou, I’m reading ‘A Season In Paris’ and I’m loving your Louis. He is as I imagine him to be; sassy, funny, but also caring and understanding. I’m an Elounor’s shipper so it’s quite strange for him to be single, but I guess you are just pushing our imagination a little bit further. Keep up with the good work. Love to speak with you. See you around xo.
As I write down I realise Louis is tremendously enthusiastic of a Fan Fiction where he doesn’t have a girlfriend. That’s odd if you think of it. Oh, well. Maybe we all need to dream a little and allow us some fantasies, as long as it remains that way, at least for him. Eleanor is his touchstone. She prevents him to dissipate too much. I don’t know where he’d be without her.
I check my iPhone. Thirty minutes to leave. As I glance back at the screen of my laptop I see I have a new alert. Probably just an update.
DreamingOfYou: Dear ILoveTommoBear, Thank you for your words, again. It makes me extremely happy you fancy a character I portrayed. I’m an Elounor’s shipper myself and it was sort of a hard decision let her out of this Fan Fiction, but I needed all the boys to be single and ready to mingle. I think she doesn’t deserve so much hate. Everybody needs to realise she is his touchstone, and that all the boys have the right to an intimacy and a private life. But it seems so easy to confuse reality and fantasy. Well, I don’t want to bore you with my speeches. I’m here if you want to chat. Nice to get to know you a bit more. Tschüss xo.
I’m actually speechless. It’s almost as she is reading my mind. Have I written the touchstone’s stuff somewhere public? I have to write her back.
ILoveTommoBear: DreamingOfYou, I’m not bored at all. I absolutely feel the same as you about the boys. They need to have a proper, normal life, because they are normal lads, after all. For the rest, we have their music and Fan Fiction. Are you going to see them this year on tour? xo.
As I click on submit I regret it, and pat my forehead. Why did I ask her that? Now, if she says yes, I’ll be extra nervous in every single concert to come!
DreamingOfYou: ILoveTommoBear, I think I am, but I’m not 100% sure. Are you?
ILoveTommoBear: DreamingOfYou, same here. But counting on it!
“Harry! Come on! We’re leaving!” Paul shouts all of a sudden from behind the door, making me jump.
“Come in!” I shout back.
“Is this your stuff?” He asks pointing at my pillow and handbag.
“Yeah,” I say, turning towards him.
“Well, I take it with me–––he claims. Lobby in five.”
“Sure,” I mumble, turning away and facing my screen again.
ILoveTommoBear: DreamingOfYou, I’m from London, by the way. Sorry, but I have to leave. Write to you soon xo.
–.–.–
[A/N: Hi! Feedback is highly appreciated! Don't forget to click on the lil' star :) Thank you for reading!]