Layla
Christmas in New York is a true sight for the eyes. It's a winter wonderland, tucked away amongst the hustle and bustle of the busy crowds, curious tourists, and smell of heavy traffic on the streets. But if you look closely, you'll see it. You'll catch the fragrance of gingerbread scorching through the vast majority of bakeries as they put on display an array of bread, pastries, and coffee. You'll taste the subtle hints of peppermint. You'll hear the joyous tunes sung by even the grouchiest of all as all carol proudly. But most importantly, you'll see the golden lights. You'll witness them on display in all the popular shops as they dazzle all. You'll witness them twinkling above and within the trees and buildings as you walk. You'll see the stars magically shine from above in the sky and on Rockefeller, holding a gathering for all to capture on film as the city shines greatly and with pride.
And as I currently sit in the back of the car, watching others happily live their lives to the fullest, I enjoy the small moments they find in the city. I try to focus on what Grace is saying at the moment as we head closer and closer to the sight of our shoot. But, I can't. I'm too I'm loved and involved with this city that I'm bewitched by the magic of it all. The light and fluffy snow falls and fills the air, sticking to the window's glass. I sip on my hot chocolate, unable to stop the tunes that fall from my mouth.
"A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight, walking in a winter wonderland. Gone away is the bluebird, here to stay is a new bird. Sing a love song, while we stroll along, walking in a winter wonderland..."
I don't even realize the carefree lyrics that I've hummed and sung out loud until Grace raises an interested brow, settling her phone into her lap. "You're in a good mood," she says.
"Why wouldn't I be? Christmas is five days away, the city is absolutely beautiful..."
"And you get to see a certain someone in about three days, am I right? Is that the reason for your smile?"
She knows she's absolutely correct as I press my lips together tightly, shrugging my shoulders as she grins at my response. "It very well, could be. He flies out to London today."
"Oh, does he now?"
"Yes."
"And when will you be joining him?"
"The morning of the 23rd. He's picking me up at Heathrow."
"It'll be your first Christmas on the other side of the ocean, nervous?"
"Not really. I'm more so nervous about meeting his family...trying to fit in...pretending I know a thing or to about celebrating the holidays."
"Don't overthink these things Layla. Just have fun, be merry, and drink some eggnog."
"Easier said than done."
Being the kind woman that she always is, she reaches for my hand, giving it a warm and comforting squeeze as I look over at her, seeing the prominent tears in her eyes. "I'm really happy for you Layla. I'm honestly, so happy that you've found someone who can put such a bright smile on your face and be the reason behind you singing freely."
"Don't get mushy on me Gracie."
We both laugh as she removes her hand from my own. "You little shit. Now remember, if he breaks your heart..."
"Grace..."
"Alfonzo will kick his ass all the way to the other side of the Atlantic. Isn't that right?"
"You bet," Alfonzo chimes in from the front seat, stealing my cup of hot chocolate when my guard is down.
We arrive on set quickly and efficiently, greeting all those around as I'm instantly thrown into hair and makeup. Today's cover as I'm told, will be one of the biggest to finish and close off the year. For Vogue has been gracious enough to open up their glamorous home and eye to me this morning. My eyelashes are curled and bold pink lipstick is added before my hair is tossed and styled, sprayed to keep the magical work in place. The theme is modern glamour, festive and decorated to invite the liking of fresh spring.
And as my absolute favorite photographer who goes by the iconic name of Carter Blue, steps onto set, he pulls me in for a warm hug. Carter and I met practically a decade ago as I was an anxious and self conscious teenager and he was a struggling and newfound man behind the lens. But, from day one, the world knew he was not one to be messed with. He captures one's true essence and beauty on screen, bringing you to life as every flaw is transformed into a strength. He wears designer from head to toe and smells of millions as he twirls me around in the pink dress that I suit.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite model," he states, admiring me closely.
"Model hardly is the word for it. Tell me, how's Matthew? Any big plans for the holidays?"
"We're headed out to Austria in the morning. His family's all there and I've never been. Should be fun."
"Sounds exciting."
"And what about you? You've been keeping secrets from me, James."
"Quite the opposite, if you can't tell."
He holds the camera carefully in his hands as he approaches me, whispering into my ear. "Always, keep the world guessing, remember that. Now, shall we get started?"
With the photo-shoot leaning into the depths of the afternoon, I rush out of their fast and back into the car, heading out to Midtown. Alfonzo sits in his usual seat up front while I sit alone, trying to suppress the many nerves that are currently stirring up in the pit of my stomach. I feel incredibly nauseous, holding no true appetite as we get closer and closer to the dedicated restaurant. But, a promise is a promise. Out of the handful of times I willingly gather around to spend time with my mother, today is one of them. Ever since I was sixteen and moved out to the city, the holidays have not been a sweet spoonful to swallow.
We tried to maintain childhood traditions from years ago when everything was sane and normal, but it just wasn't the same. And ever since her and my father divorced eight years ago, we haven't spent a Christmas under the same roof since. She's picked a newly opened restaurant this time around, far too modern for my tastes, but it works. We'll make a little small talk, exchange false smiles, and gifts before parting ways. The most time we'll be in the same room is two hours top, depending on how many courses are ordered and how many rounds of drinks she craves.
I step out into the frosty winter, thankful for the lack of media and attention so far as Alfonzo trails behind. The hostess shows me to my seat quickly as I spot her from afar, because how can you miss her? Even now, after all the heartbreak, she's still beautiful, despite the notion that I'll never admit it. She's broken my heart far too many times to be allowed. She seeks love from complicated men who are only after one thing and one thing only. She doesn't ever listen to me nor cares for my opinions and I've coped with that now. She's darkened her hair; hiding away her Scottish roots as I will forever remember the way the sun would hit her locks, bringing out the fire that couldn't be tamed. But now the fire has been put out as she wants to fit in with the ordinary.
I take off my coat, despising the twist on holiday classics that fill the scene. I take my seat, feeling her blue eyes on me already. "I've only been waiting an hour," she says.
"Lovely to see you too," I state.
She relaxes her shoulders, exhaling heavily. I feel her microscopic glances observing everything about me as I take a drink of my water, hoping to calm down the butterflies that flutter in my stomach. Eventually, she speaks, surprising me, providing a glimpse into the past at the mother I treasured what feels like a lifetime ago. "You look really pretty today," she admits, holding a genuine smile.
However, before I can respond, the smile that was slowly begin to form on my own face sadly falters at the presence of another. He steps up to our table, placing a kiss on my mother's forehead, dressed in an expensive black suit. I already know. Another man has managed to steal my mother's heart and attention. For once I only wish she would spare me the decency and provide me the same courtesy. He offers me a hand to shake and once I don't accept, he takes my disinterest with a chuckle.
"You must be Layla, I'm Drew," he tells.
I don't care for his arrogance nor acts as he snaps for the waiter's attention, wanting to place his requests for lunch. And as predicted, that consists of a large glass of bourbon to pair with his side salad. My mother asks for a bowl of soup while I don't care for anything, knowing no meal here is one that I desire to remember. And as Drew finishes his first glass, smiling at me with interest, I wish we all had the power to forget the good and bad. I wish to be anywhere but here in this very moment, sitting across my mother who feels completely lost in my grasp. I wish to hold the happiness I felt this morning, singing joy into the air as I celebrated the wonderland around me.
I needed a glass of white wine to get me through this dreadful lunch. My attention is truly on the outside streets as the snow has picked up in strength. We've made it towards dessert now as my mother and her new acquaintance who goes by the name of Drew share a slice of holiday bread. He's enjoyed three glasses of bourbon by now, arrogance and disobedience evident in the air. My mother strives for honest conversation while I don't have the heart to bare it.
"Any plans for the holidays?" She asks me.
I provide a simple shrug of my shoulders, knowing she doesn't have a genuine concern nor care for my future plans. "I won't be in the city," I answer.
"What a shame, figured we could maybe, do Christmas morning together?"
"We haven't truly done Christmas morning since I was about ten years old."
"It could be fun Layla."
"Just like how we pretend this lunch is fun..."
I mumble incoherent words and thoughts under my breath, finishing my glass of wine, feeling my anxious nerves subside little by little. Drew raises a brow, wanting to have a say and voice his opinion to the table. "Cut your mother some slack kid," he says, chuckling humorously as he earns another spotted kiss on her cheek.
"I'm not a kid and I don't need you to speak for my mother," I reply matter bluntly, witnessing the slyness in his smile drop instantly.
"You may not be a kid, but you're acting like one. Tell me, where's the smile the world pays for?"
"Not kept for the likes of you. I'm surprised you can even tell the difference. That's what, your fifth bourbon?"
"Layla!" My mother exclaims in response, earning unwanted attention from those around.
"What? We have lunch maybe three times a year and you decide to bring this...this obnoxious drunken jerk who doesn't even care about you?"
"You don't know what you're talking about Layla."
"Of course I do. You haven't proved me different after all these years."
Her face softens as she reaches for my hand from across the table, noticing the vivid pain within my eyes, withholding such contact as Drew speaks.
"Your mother asked me to join you two because we have something we want to share," Drew states wrapping an arm over her shoulders.
And when she smiles fondly back at him, I fear the worse and quite possibly, the expected. "Don't tell me you're actually marrying him."
"While we appreciate the support, not exactly. Layla...I'm...I'm pregnant."
When the revelation falls from her mouth, I'm rendered numb and absolutely speechless. I sit back in my chair, hoping to suppress the tears as a lifetime of betrayal and sorrow come to the horizon. The woman who sits across the table from me missed out on so, so much. The woman who was once my sparkling world became a stranger, absent and uninterested in how brightly I decided to shine. Perhaps it's because I cost her the one true love she possessed. Perhaps it's because I'm honestly, the reason why our family is as broken as it's become today. Perhaps it's because I turned to Grace for the light and love that she failed to provide.
I don't know why she wishes to share such information with me as she knows how I'll feel. If she wants to rectify years worth of hurt than she's mistaken. For the man sitting next to her is not a man worthy of her heart and devotion. This man is not my father. And despite my own father's past decisions, he never stopped loving my mother—that's a fact. When I remain silent for far too long, my eyes are glassy with tears, yet they never fall. Instead, I reach for my coat and purse, pulling out a small red envelope before placing it in front of her.
"Merry Christmas," I tell her, not bothering for an explanation as I walk away. Alfonzo follows behind into the winter scene as media, lights, and fans all surround us entirely in the midst of it all.
The day has passed greatly, but slowly. I remain in the comfortable confinements of my apartment, overlooking the immense beauty that the park provides all that pass. The hour is late into the night, approaching midnight in less than one hour. I don't care for sleep just yet as I enjoy a cup of hot tea, loving the sound of children laughing and playing in the snow while others sing merry and bright. Suddenly, an incoming call renders me awake and free from this trance as I answer it, knowing this is exactly what I need on such a cold night.
"I hope you landed safely and didn't spend the entire plane ride learning new jokes."
"What can I say? I'm a predictable man."
His voice is lacking its usual charm and sound, craving a well night's worth of rest. "I miss you," I tell him, knowing that these number of weeks away have been completely dreadful and an indicator of my strength.
He hums into the speaker, familiarity and comfort all two tokens that I desperately need in this very moment. "Miss you more little darling." I'm silent for a while, exhaling as I take a seat on the sofa, shutting my eyes in the process to drown out my thoughts. "Are you alright? You sound upset."
"I'm okay."
"Have you been crying? Layla? Baby, talk to me."
"You can't do that now; be away from me and still know exactly how I'm feeling."
"What's wrong? Tell me?"
"Harry..."
"Either tell me or I'll be forced to say a new joke."
"It's nothing. I had lunch with my mother today."
"How did it go?" he asks hesitantly.
"Not a big deal. We do this maybe two or three times a year. I don't know why I thought today would be different."
"What happened?" A pause lingers in the air for far too long, causing him to retract his prior question that awaits an answer. "You know, don't tell me yet. Not until you're ready."
"I'm sorry. It's just...if I say it out loud then that makes it true and I don't know if I'm ready for that."
"If it does become true, is that so bad?"
"No, no I guess not."
"Then no more tears. Not from such a beautiful woman." I shake my head at his silly words, settling my cup of tea on the table. "It's the truth, you're a beautifully brilliant and sweet woman. Believe it, own it."
"Careful there Harry Styles, won't the world hear?"
"I honestly don't give a damn anymore. It's been too long, little darling. Don't know how much more my heart can handle."
"Only two more nights after today."
"Seems like forever away."
"I know."
"I miss my sun. My life is far too cloudy and grey without you Layla."
"Really?"
"Absolutely. Tell me, what are your plans for the rest of the night?"
"Will probably try to get some sleep soon. You may want to consider that even though it's what, early morning there?"
"Don't have my sun yet, remember?"
"Which is why you need to get some rest."
"There's enough time for that. But first, there's something else more important."
"And what's that?"
"Easy. I need to kiss you first."
"Quite impossible considering you're on the other side of the ocean."
Suddenly, a round of persistent barks and a single knock on the door carries me off the sofa and on my feet. I open it, inviting the warmth inside as I'm granted full view of a breathtaking rainbow that's been hiding from me in plain sight. He holds the phone to his ear, smiling brightly and cheerfully at me as miserable tears roll down my face without a care.
"I thought you said you were a predictable man?"
"Well, what can I say baby? I don't think straight when it comes to you."
With that response, he does as promised, crossing it off his checklist as his mouth finds a safe haven on my own for the first time in nearly four weeks. He tastes of sweet honey and vanilla and all the things I've greatly missed as he wraps both arms around me until I fear I may actually faint. And when my legs do quiver sheepishly, he scoops me up in his arms, kissing me feverishly again and again, despite Sugar barking away, craving for attention. His eyes are bright and will forever by my favorite color that I adore. His nose and cheeks are frost bitten from the cold as light flakes of snow rest on his curls. He's here, he's truly and utterly here as I taste him on my skin. My knight and shining armor, my rainbow after a dreaded storm, my sparkling light that will forever help me shine bright.
It's so good to be back! I'm so sorry for taking another hiatus, but life has been crazy. I hope you're all safe and happy. Thank you to all the old and new readers for the incredible support. This little story of mine has reached nearly 30K reads which is just freaking madness.
**30 votes and 15 comments for the next chapter!! (Hope you're ready for what's in store...)
What did you all think of this chapter?
Thoughts on Layla's mom and their relationship?
Hope you're ready for London...
Side note: I've started a new story (que the Bridgerton vibes) called Destined. The first chapter is posted on my profile so I hope you will check it out and give me your honest thoughts on if I should continue or no.
Until next time my loves!!!