"Will you be mine?" He whispers into my ear, his lips brushing against my earlobe, his breath hot down my neck and my eyes widen.
"Excuse me?" I say back in disbelief and I feel his fingers press tighter onto my thighs and I melt into his chest, inching towards his lips with my own.
"No one else's..." He says gently and I try to figure out what he's actually asking through his drunken words.
"I'm nobodies." I say back confidently.
"What about that actor guy... Jack." He says and I laugh.
"His name is James and no, I'm not his." I say back.
"What about that guy from the window?" He says softly and I hear the sadness from his voice.
"What're you talking about, Harry?" I say in confusion.
"When we were... nineteen... I came to see you and um, you we're with someone and you, no I, watched as you um...yeah." He says and I lift my head from his chest to look at him.
"What?" I furrow my brows and try to understand what he's saying.
"Nothing." He mumbles and with an exhale walks out of the room.
"Harry, wait!" I call out and jump off the bathroom sink and follow him to my room where he lay sprawled on the bed, hands covering his face.
"Who was I with?" I ask softly.
"I just wish that it had of been me." He says and at this point I'm completely lost, what is he possibly talking about?
"Look, I'm really, really confused right now and if you could-" I begin to say but with that my wrists are pulled into him and he kisses me, his hands travelling over my back and through my hair. His kiss is completely intoxicating, and I feel myself losing breath, so I inhale deeply which causes a moan to escape his lips. I break from the kiss and leave our noses touching.
"It was autumn and the air was cold, I took Gemma's bike and rode to your house to see you and it was like three in the morning or some shit and when I arrived at your house, there was someone in your room and you we're undressing for him and I stood there and realised, you were never mine and possibly wouldn't ever be mine." He says as he clenches his eyes and furrows his brow, falling back and spreading his body onto my bed.
I sit up straight and remember that night. I missed Harry so much that I began to grow bored and I suppose sex cured the boredom for a little while. I was so lost in my life at that point that I needed someone, I needed anyone, to be there and allow me to have some type of control. I missed my Mum, Dad was always working, Gemma and Anne could only be there so much ad the girls at school turned on me after Harry left.
"Harry I-" I turn to see he's passed out asleep, his lips slightly parted as soft groans and deep breaths escape his mouth. I push a clump of curls out of his face and lay down next to him, watching his chest slowly rise and fall.
"So that's why you stopped talking to me, isn't it? Because I suppose that, without knowing it, I broke your heart first." I whisper, not expecting an answer from the very tired, overworked and secretive boy that lays next to me.
******
Sun pours in through the room and I roll over to see no Harry but at this rate, waking up without him after a night with him has become no surprise. The sound of cheerful singing comes from the bathroom door which sits ajar. I smile and rub at my eyes, laying as I listen to Harry singing. I stand from my bed and go to the window and move the curtains to look out over the fields, sun pouring into my eyes as I fumble at the soft curtains. I arch my back and throw my arms in the air stretching my body from the night's rest. The shower turns off and Harry comes out wrapped in a towel, his hair wet and slicked back. I know he was drunk when he said it, but he asked me to be his. Why does he insist on adding to the confusion of he and I?
"You should probably shower; the chlorine isn't good for hair." He says and I lose my breath looking at him.
"Um... yeah, you're right." He says and I move to the shower, removing my clothing and rinsing off, washing my hair and the rest of my body.
"I'm going out to lunch with a friend, do you want to come?" Harry calls out.
"Yeah, I'd love too, whose it with?" I say back, turning the nozzle of the shower off and applying leave in conditioner to my hair.
"Oliver Grey." He says as he pops his head into the bathroom as I stand in a towel.
"Shut the fuck up, Oliver Grey as in renowned English casting director." I turn around and my mouth drops.
"It's nothing, just catching up." He shrugs off.
This definitely isn't nothing.
******
"Look its nothing major but we want you to send in a tape to Nolan, we've spoken to Jeffrey and he thinks it's a great idea, however, it's just debatably up to you mate." Oliver speaks as he takes a sip of his espresso.
I look around the small café and I adjust myself, taking my scarf off because of the warmth coming from the heaters around the shop. I've always liked this café but when I was younger I guess it looked a lot bigger than what it is and the fake plants that hang around the shop looked a lot more realistic, now they look dull and lifeless but the comforting feeling I get from being in here after all these years gives me a lot of joy. Oliver runs his hand through his sandy blonde hair and hands Harry a plastic sleeve with documents in it and Harry examines it.
"And like I said, it's an all-male cast and the film has little dialogue, plus your character isn't all that prominent within the film, but I can tell you you're gonna need to get your hands a bit dirty." Oliver says with a smile and Harry laughs.
"But how about you! The infamous Miss Tilly Jackson! God you in 'Pond' besides Eric was amazing, what's coming up soon?" He asks me with a giant smile, the gap in between his teeth showing.
"About two weeks ago, I wrapped filming a movie with Spielberg." I say softly across the table.
"Spielberg!" Oliver says loudly with a clap of his hands, more so announcing it than asking.
"Shhh! It's a secret and won't be out until late next year, press begins next July." I say laughing as he covers his hand.
"Sorry but that's major! Congratulations Tilly!" He says finishing is espresso soon after.
"Thank you so much." I say back a little louder.
"What's next then?" Oliver asks me.
"I have a few things coming up, but nothing major. There's a small Parisian film I'm featuring in but it isn't a major role." Oliver looks at me and raises one eyebrow and sits back in his chair, one arm slouched over the back of it as if questioning something, turning something over in that mind of his.
"Look, I shouldn't even be saying this right now, but I'm going too... Are you familiar with Jane Campions work?" Oliver says as he leans into the table and I swallow hard.
"Jane Campion is one of your favourite film makers, right Tilly?" Harry says.
"Of course, she's legendary! But she hasn't made a film in years..." I say.
"She's just finalised and approved a script for a new film, filming should commence in about a month. It's a period piece, sometime in the late 1970s... the main character, Naomi Willis, is around nineteen years old, living with her mother and father in Brighton when she murders her mother and father for the abuse and trauma, they've inflicted on her. She flees to flees to New York and begins a new life as an artist. The film does have some explicit scenes but I assure you it would give you the exposure you need to be remembered in Hollywood."
"Jane Campion... When do I audition?" I say with a smile spreading ear to ear on my face.
"I've seen your work; you won't need too. You've got the talent and the look for Naomi. I'll schedule a meeting with Jane, and you when she sees you, I'm sure you'll be the fit. There's just one thing..."
"Yeah?" I say sitting on the edge of my seat.
"Naomi is blonde." He says and I inhale sharply.
Blonde.
"So, she'll need to dye her hair?" Harry says with a chuckle.
"I know it's a big commitment but-" Oliver begins.
"Done. I'll do it." I say quickly.
"Seriously?" Harry says.
"It's Jane Fucking Campion!" I say raising my voice with a smile.
"That's amazing. I'll schedule a meeting sometime next week, she's in L.A. your familiar I take it?" Oliver says standing.
"Definitely." I shake his hand and smile.
"Styles, you get those filled and film the tape and send it over." Oliver shakes Harrys hand and we say our goodbyes, Harry and I going home as Oliver walks down the road, turning left and disappearing as he adjusts his coat against the cold weather.
"So, your serious about the dye job?" Harry says as he turns into my driveway to drop me home.
"Dead serious." I respond.
"I'll see you at dinner tonight, right?" Harry says and I smile at him and nod, shutting the car door and going inside out of the cold.
I throw my coat off and go to my room and fall onto the bed and think about what just happened, a female director is something major and I want to work with her. Especially Jane Campion. Everything feels so perfect it hurts and I'm painfully nervous something bad is about to happen, but I don't think it will.
******
"Oh, come on Twist! The kids aren't going home for another two weeks! Let's make the most of it." Dad says as he cuts the carrots and Anne mixes some kind of sauce into the pan and I smile at the two of them, Harrys gentle guitar strums coming from the living room. They've been talking about going away with Harry, Gemma and I for the last week but tonight Dad is set on making it happen and honestly, watching the two of them bicker is humorous.
"Oh Dean, I don't know. Don't you both just want to stay home and relax?" Anne says as she looks up at me from the stove.
"I want to be with my family, no matter where they are and you and Harry are my family... oh, and Gemma." I say as I take a carrot from the pile and chew on it, Anne winking at me with a cheeky grin.
"Hey! Bit bloody rude." Gemma says from further down the kitchen island as she taps away at her computer.
"Tilly, I saw that, take another carrot and there will be none left." Dad says sternly.
"I'm an adult now so if I want to take a carrot, I feel like kinda sorta definitely I can..." I say sarcastically as I hop off the chair and walk into the living room and throw myself on the lounge and chew on the carrot, Anne and Dad's playful arguing in the background.
*Play song now: Landslide by Fleetwood Mac Acoustic Guitar Backing Track on YouTube*
"Are they still arguing about where to go?" Harry says, not looking up at me from the guitar.
"Well, they'd agreed on Greece but then Dad said it would be too cold and eventually Anne suggested Toscana, but Dad said no of course, then they finally agreed on Amsterdam and Anne decided she wasn't even sure if she even wanted to go or not." I speak out as I stare at the ceiling of Anne's living room and I hear Harry sigh as he plucks a few chords. I listen intently, focusing on the chords when I realise what song it is.
"Is that...?"
"Mhm..." He says, picking at the chords gently with his fingers. I rest my hands on my stomach and close my eyes letting the song sink in, Dad and Anne laughing in the background and the smell of dinner wafting through the house, the fire keeping the household warm. I allow myself to feel the music and let it take over me.
"Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love? Can the child within my heart rise above?" Harry sings and I roll over onto my stomach to watch him, admiring how incredibly talented he is.
"Can I sail through the changing ocean tides, ohh can I handle the seasons of my life?" He sings gently, his voice breaking as he sings the words 'my life'.
He hums a little and I watch him close his eyes as he plucks at the strings more.
"Well I've been afraid of changing cause I've built my life around... you." He says as he looks up at me and continues to strum.
"But time makes you bolder, even, children get older and I'm getting older too..." He sings while looking at me his brow furrowing, analysing my face.
The instrumental picks up and he sings the final verse with soul, allowing every emotion to pour from his lips, escaping his chest as he breathes deeply when the song finishes but he continues to strum the final chords over and over again. I miss being home, I always do but it's never until I get home that I realise how badly being home hits us. Every emotion, every truth, every little secret, every hiding place all seems to plead for our attention. The places that used to seem to big are no longer big, I was just small. But now I'm big and a very large portion of the earth's population knows my name and that scares me, Harry did this at sixteen. I'm twenty-three and shit scared. He finishes the chords and I look back up at him and he's sniffling his nose, wiping at it with the sleeve of his hoodie.
"Let's go convince my mother to go to Amsterdam,how bout' it?" Harry says as he stands and rests the guitar against the mantel,offering his hand out to me to help me up from the lounge.