The boys are performing in Rockefeller Plaza this morning. From the airport, cars took everyone to the NBC studios, where we are currently, and where the Today Show is filmed. The boys are on at 7:30 and performing for only 15 minutes, before a quick interview that will last until 8. The boys spent hours last week rehearsing for this performance, and it was almost surreal to watch them sing together after so long. The media storm surrounding today has been insane, because it's the boys's first time performing since the reunion. Liam said that their first U.S. performance was on the Today Show in the same place that they're performing this morning. It's crazy to think how far they've come.
I've suppressed my exhaustion with two black coffees, and it's only 6:30. I managed to sleep for a few hours on the plane, drifting in and out of sleep and semi-conscious thoughts of the day ahead of us. Even still, I found myself only being able to after I knew Harry was asleep. I would methodically spin my head around to see behind my seat, and eventually his eyes were closed and arms crossed over his stomach. He used to look so calm when he slept, but now his face is always tarnished with a frown and he never seems peaceful.
We'll all be spending our time backstage at the Today studio, and the boys will eventually leave to perform and for the interview, and then come back here to leave afterwards.
'Hey, do you know where Niall is?' Tara asks, gently touching my arm and pulling me out of my thoughts. 'He wanted me to bring him a coffee and now I don't know where he is.' She laughs lightheartedly. I don't know how Tara always seems to look so put together, but she does. It's as though she got a full 9 hours last night and is living carefree. Meanwhile, my relationship is crumbling and I can't seem to sleep properly to save my life.
'I don't know, but I can help you find him.' I offer, adding in a small smile to try and match her enthusiasm.
'Thanks. I swear that man is always going walkabout.' She laughs, and we begin to wander down the various corridors of the studio. Like many studios that I've been backstage at, this one is made up of corridors with yellow lights and brown carpets, with doors on either side. While Tara busies herself knocking on a door beside mine, I do the same. I hear a vaguely familiar voice from behind the door responding to my knock and telling me to come in, and so I open it.
Out of all the things I expected to find behind this door, it was not the 2020 version of Harry Styles wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and chelsea boots. I'm so dumbfounded by the sight that I completely forget why I entered the room.
'I found Niall.' Tara says with a smile, snapping me out of my trance and popping her head through the doorframe to give Niall his coffee.
'Great.' Is all I manage to respond with before Tara walks away, thanking me for my help. Both Niall and Harry are in the room, with one of the new stylists for the band. The look on my face is obviously nothing short of pure shock at the sight in front of me, and Niall seems to pick up on it.
'Is everything okay Soph?' He asks. The whole room is looking at me as though I don't belong, and after seeing a 2015 version of Harry with short hair, I'm not sure that I do belong. I didn't meet Harry until 2016.
'Um..yeah, fine. Just looking for you, Tara wanted to give you a coffee. But she's done that now.' I say, putting my minimal acting skills to use and adding a casual tone to my reply. Without waiting for a response, I leave down the hallway. I'm not sure why I'm suddenly so lost for words at the sight of Harry in skinny jeans, but I am. Harry hasn't worn skinny jeans in years, and his style has evolved so much since then. I know him well enough to know that this wardrobe choice was not a choice that he made, and it just feels like this is a physical representation of how the band isn't being allowed to evolve to fit the boys as they currently are. First it was the nailpolish, then it was the album following the themes of their 2012 album, and now it's Harry wearing clothes he hasn't worn in years. Of course it would be fine if Harry still wore skinny jeans, but he doesn't. This styling is yet another example of the band being forced into being their old selves as though nothing has changed. But things have changed, the boys are different and 5 years older now, and I'm so tired of nobody getting that through their heads.
'Hey, talk to me.' Harry says quietly from behind me. I spin around at his words, shocked that he followed me out of the room. His beautiful eyes are pouring into mine, and they're filled with concern.
'It's just all this, everything. It just doesn't feel right.' I whisper, discreetly waving my arm around the room. I didn't mean to let out my concerns about everything onto Harry right now, but I've gone and done it anyway.
'What do you mean?' He asks, brow furrowing in concern.
'Um..nothing..I just didn't expect to see you in skinny jeans, that's all. You're okay with it, aren't you?' I respond, pushing all the other worries I just released back into the box. I don't want to put more pressure on Harry with my concerns.
'The jeans? I'm uh..they're just jeans. Don't worry about it.' He says quietly, obviously conscious that someone could overhear him. The fact that he's so concerned about someone hearing him only heightens my worry more.
'Okay, sorry for bothering you.' I swallow, moving my gaze to my shoes.
'Don't worry about it, you're not a bother.' He breathes calmly, and then turns on his heel and walks back into the room with the 'wardrobe' sign on the front. How I didn't notice the sign earlier, beats me. I let his words settle in my chest, as a way to reassure myself that I'm not a bother, no matter how many times it seems to feel like I am.
I find myself back in the main lounge area backstage, with my laptop open and reading through my work emails. There's nothing much exciting, just more of the same forwarded messages about appearances from the band. That is, until I see a little mail notification pop up on the right hand side for my personal emails. My heart skips a beat when I see who it's from.
To Ms Sophie Lawson,
Our media team at Yves Saint Laurent has become aware of your blog, Écharpe en Cachemire. We believe that your blog is very much in line with our ideals at YSL.
With this, we'd like to formally invite you to attend our Summer 2021 show at Paris Fashion Week in late August 2020.
If you wish to accept our invitation, your trip will be fully paid for. Flights, accommodation, meals and second row seats to the show. We are more than happy to provide the same for two guests of your choice. We only ask that you produce one post for Écharpe en Cachemire with relevance to the show that you and your chosen guests attend.
Yourself, along with your two guests, will be styled in YSL at a fitting on 25 August in L.A. along with all our other guests from the U.S.
The show will be taking place on the evening of 28 August, so your trip will span from 27 August to 29 August.
Please get in touch with us at this email address and let us know if you'd like to attend, and we can continue preparations from there.
Many thanks,
The Yves Saint Laurent team
Oh my fucking god. I'm going to Paris Fashion Week? A blog that I started as a way to dodge boredom has resulted in an invite to Paris Fashion Week. This can't be real life. It has been my dream since I was a child to be able to do something like this, and now it's happening, and with two guests of my choice. Any of the sleep deprivation I was feeling seconds ago has now been thrown out the window after reading this one single email. There are tears streaming down my cheeks, and after what feels like two weeks of hell, I didn't expect to be crying tears of joy at 7 in the morning in New York. I look up to see Harry walk through the doorway, and as soon as his eyes meet mine, panic fills his face.
'Sophie what's wrong?' Harry frantically asks, kneeling so he's in line with my seated position. He grabs my face in his hands and starts wiping away the tears. The rest of the boys are all standing by the door, watching the scene unfold, obviously ready to leave to do the show. The three of them look borderline horrified at the sight of Harry and I.
'No, nothing is wrong. The opposite actually.' I laugh, some of the salty tears somehow ending up in my mouth. I haven't genuinely smiled like this in what feels like forever, and Harry obviously notices and starts laughing with me. We are both so tired, but neither of us seem to care right now.
'What is it?' Harry asks with his award winning grin. It seems that my enthusiasm has rubbed off on him, and that makes me smile more.
'I just got invited to Paris Fashion Week.' I say, wiping the remaining tears away.
'You what?' Harry stutters, completely dumbfounded.
'For the blog, Yves Saint Laurent just invited me to Paris Fashion Week.' I say, rushing to get the words out.
'Holy shit! No way!' He says excitedly. 'I'm so proud of you. So, so proud of you.' He whispers into my ear, pulling me into the tightest hug I've ever felt. It hasn't been like this between him and I in so long, and I couldn't hold him tight enough and take in every detail if even I had forever.
'Don't start crying with her Haz, we gotta perform soon.' Liam teases.
'I don't see an invite from Gucci lad, your girlfriend just one-upped you.' Louis shouts, and all the boys burst into laughter. Before I can join them in their laughter, the shrills of a devil on earth pierces the air.
'What antics are going on in here? You're all on in 15 minutes, and this is how you spend it? Not warming up? What are you doing Harry? This is completely inappropriate!' Leslie shouts, and the whole room silences.
'Sophie got invited to Paris Fashion Week Leslie, let them have their moment.' Louis snaps. This is the first time I've ever seen one of the boys argue back with the management, and it sort of scares me it hasn't happened sooner. Nonetheless, I remind myself to thank Louis for his remark.
'That doesn't change the fact that warming up should be going on in here. God, you're all just children.' She huffs, and with a wave of her hand she stalks off to go wreak havoc elsewhere.
'At least we're children that know how to treat people.' Louis mutters, and I hear Niall snort.
Tara, James, Oli and myself watch the boys perform live on TV from backstage. The performance goes off without a hitch, and the boys are naturals back on the stage together. They sing their three songs, What Makes You Beautiful, Story My Life, and Best Song Ever. The three songs, while being slightly basic, are 'oldies but goodies', as Harry would put it. The boys perfectly mask their exhaustion, and put on an incredibly high energy performance. I don't think anyone could've asked for a better first show back, and I hope all the boys are proud of themselves. Harry in skinny jeans receives mass excitement from the crowd, who don't seem to share my opinion on the situation. Maybe because they don't know everything that has been going on behind the smiling faces of the 4 most popular boys in the world. It's almost scary to think about how well they let their adrenaline take hold of them while they perform, and how it's clear they're experts at using it to their advantage.
The interview goes just as smooth, with the same style questions they were asked during all their interviews on the 23rd. If they're excited to be back, what they're looking forward to, and what to expect from them now. The boys, accompanied by their outstanding media training, ace every question.
Just as the boys arrive back to the Today studio, my phone starts ringing.
'Hi sweetie, you didn't tell me you were in New York. Your sister just saw Harry on Today. You grew up here if you don't remember.' The familiar drawl of my mom teases.
'Hi mom, sorry I didn't call.' I respond, laughing. The news about Paris Fashion Week has put me in a very good mood.
'Don't worry, you're my daughter and I forgive you. Anyway, how does brunch sound?' She asks. A large part of me just wants to go back to the hotel and sleep, but a larger part of me misses my mom.
'That sounds good. Where do you suggest?'
'I'll take you to that cafe where we went with Harry when you two visited last.' She decides. I can imagine her nodding her head as she says it and pulling out her planner to write it down. Why she'd need to put it in her planner, I don't know, but it's very characteristic of her. 'Do you remember the name? How does right now..say 9ish sound?'
'That sounds good, I remember where it is. I'll see you soon.' I reply.
'Okay, bye sweetie. Love you.' She says, and I go to end the call before I hear her shrieking on the end of the line. 'Sophie! Say it back!'
'Sorry, Love you too mom.' I laugh. Again, I try to hang up, but she keeps talking.
'Kylie, get a load of this! My daughter is way too big for her boots. She dates a cute rockstar for three months and then won't tell her poor mother she loves her on the phone!' She shouts to Kylie, who must be nearby. Kylie is one of my mom's friends from work, who reminded me so much of her that I went through a phase of calling her mom when I was little.
'I'm hanging up now. Bye mom!' I laugh, and hang up before I can cop any more abuse. I never seem to realise how much I miss my family until I speak to them. I never call as much as I should, and especially not lately. I've had so much on my mind that simple phone calls to my family often slip my mind, which is probably a characteristic of a bad person. Harry is forever sending texts to his family, especially Anne, telling him how much he misses them.
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'Have you not slept in days? You look like a wreck!' My mom, never one to conceal her true feelings, announces, pulling me into a hug.
'Just a lot going on.' I nervously laugh, praying she doesn't question further. I like the feeling of basking in my happiness about Paris and not thinking about everything else for one second. 'You're still in your scrubs..are you on your break now? You didn't have to come so far if you have to go back to the hospital soon.' I ask, taking in her appearance.
'Nonsense, Sophie. My boss, Fiona..do you remember her? Gave me the rest of the day off after she found out that you'd be back in New York. Said that I could spend the day with you.' She explains, pulling her chair out and sitting down. The cafe we're at is called Brooklyn Roasting Company, the same one we went to last time. It's not my type of cafe in appearance, but the food is to die for and there's something beautiful about the place anyway. The ceilings are high, and there's an industrial factory feel to the place.
'How'd Fiona know I was back in New York?' I ask, confused as to how a woman who I've only met a few times could be so well informed on my whereabouts.
'She knows you're Harry's assistant and dating him, so figured you'd be here with him after she saw him perform. The band did well by the way. Your sister texted me to tell me she was swooning over Niall.' She shrugs casually, smiling at the memory of Livvy, who I can only imagine was glued to whatever screen she watched them perform on.
'Fiona knows I'm dating Harry?' I ask, ignoring the second part of her response and running through all the explanations in my head. From what I know of her, Fiona is not the type to read the gossip columns.
'Of course she does! Everyone in my ward knows!' She says excitedly, and my mouth nearly drops to the floor. 'I've told everyone. When your daughter is dating the Harry Styles, you tell people.' She laughs, completely failing to sense my discomfort.
'Mom! He's just Harry. We don't like him because he's famous, remember? I'd appreciate it if you didn't spill my private life to all of New York.' I laugh, trying to take a more lighthearted approach to the situation. While she'll always be my biggest supporter, sometimes she gets ahead of herself.
'Sorry, sorry, of course. I'm just excited that you two are finally together. I watched you pine for each other for years, let your mom be excited she's finally going to get grandkids! There's no hope for that brother of yours, and your sister is halfway through college, so no kids there.' She laughs, and I join in. The memories of Harry and I before Sydney make an appearance in my mind, and I look back fondly at them. It's funny how much yet how little has changed in such a short amount of time. Even still, it's not right between us at the moment, and I want nothing more than it to be like what my mom saw last time Harry and I were in New York.
'Don't get so ahead of yourself about the grandkids just yet.' I smile, pushing down my fears about Harry and I. While I don't adore kids, of course I want to have my own one day. However, at the moment it's too much to think about because the more I do, the more it will hurt if I lose him.
'Why? Is there something wrong with you and my future son in law?' She asks, suddenly panicked. Sometimes I wonder if she's more excited about my relationship with Harry than I am.
'No, nothing wrong. Just don't want to think so far into the future yet.' I smile, trying to hide the little knot in my stomach at the thought of my future and if he's in it. My mom, always a good read of facial expression, picks up on it.
'Don't lie to me now. A mother knows her daughter.' She says, eyes narrowing.
'It's nothing. Just a little rocky lately, don't worry about it.' I say, swallowing down the avalanche of other things I could say, alongside the fact that I am worrying about it. A waitress comes by our table, filling up our glasses with water before my mom gets the chance to respond.
'Ready to order?' The waitress asks.
'If I'm going to be honest, I haven't even opened the menu. My daughter here is back home in New York for the day so we're catching up. Sorry for the delay.' My mom laughs, gesturing to me across the table. It is typical of my mother to overshare to people who don't care. The waitress's gaze settles on me, eyes instantly going wide.
'Oh my god! Sophie! I'm sorry this is probably so annoying for you, but can I get a picture? I love your blog so much, I'm a massive fan. And Harry of course, he's the cherry on top.' The young waitress laughs, and I smile back. I'm forever mesmerised by the people who read my blog. It still doesn't feel real.
'Of course, what's your name?' I ask, getting out of my seat and pulling her in for a hug.
'Stephanie.' She grins, and pulls out her phone. We smile for the picture and she thanks me profusely, letting us know to call her back when we're ready to order.
'So my daughter has a blog and I don't know about it?' My mom teases, as I sit back down. 'Not only that, this blog has real readers. Sophie, am I dead to you? Tell your mother these things.' She laughs.
'Sorry, a lot going on.' I reply, repeating my earlier sentiment. It hits me in this moment that I'd like my mom to be one of my guests at Paris Fashion Week. 'Actually, this blog somehow got me an invite to Paris Fashion Week with Yves Saint Laurent, and I was wondering if you'd like to be one of my two guests.' I smile, and my mom starts to tear up.
'Yves Saint Laurent? Your blog got you an invite to Paris Fashion Week? My daughter, a guest at Paris Fashion Week? I knew my genes were going to do good things!' She practically squeals, clapping her hands together, mouth open wide in shock.
'It's Yves with an 'ee' sound, not an 'I' sound, mom. But yes to all, I'd like you to come with me.' I answer, her enthusiasm growing in me.
'Sorry, I forget my daughter is fluent in French. Of course I'm coming! Send me the link to this blog of yours!' She says, wiping away the few stray tears on her cheeks.
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When I get back to the hotel, I'm in a very good mood despite my lack of sleep and all the issues relating to Harry and I and his work. My mom always has this effect on me. We spent our whole brunch talking for hours, my mom filling me in on all I've been missing out on in New York. I avoided too much mention of Harry and I, unsure what to really say. Fans came up all throughout our time, asking for pictures. I'm used to a few fans, but not the amount I've encountered recently, and even she was shocked.
Somehow, Harry and I were lucky enough to be given a hotel room together for the night here. This surprised me, since nobody from the band's management seems to be in favour of Harry and I. I wouldn't have even been shocked if I was booked into a motel in New Jersey at the support he and I have gotten from the management recently.
When I walk out of the shower, I find Harry sitting on the ledge that separates the white wall and the window with the view of the city. He's pinching his lip, eyebrows knitted together. A look that has become all too familiar recently.
'What is it?' I ask, moving to him and holding his face in my hands so I can look in his eyes. His eyes meet mine, but even then, it's almost as though he's fearful to do so. Before I know what he's doing, his mouth is on mine. At first it's hesitant, but then it becomes completely desperate and all consuming.
We move back to the bed and Harry starts undressing me, exploring every part of my body as though it's the last time he's ever going to have the chance. He touches every line of toning and every curve, eyes raking up and down my bare body. I've never experienced anything like this with him before. Instead of the air being filled with lust, the whole room is somber.
'So beautiful.' He mutters, before resuming the trail of kisses he was making up my neck. This is so far from what I'm used to with him, and the moment is completely desperate. His need for me is overtaking any logical thought that I could have. Sex is not going to solve any problems that we have, but I don't care at this point. He needs this, and I need him. I need to feel close to him, and if this is the only way to feel like that again, then I don't care.
He pulls away from my neck, where I'm certain he's left a trail of marks. His eyes pour into mine, completely intoxicating my every sense as I lift his shirt over his head and unbuckle his belt.
Before I even realise what I'm doing, I'm laying flat on the large bed, and Harry is resting on his elbows above me. One knee is in between my legs, the other on the left side of my body. His perfectly shaped lips are parted slightly, a deep red caused only from my lips on his.
I lift my neck up to kiss him, scared to look at his face tarnished in so much confusion for any longer. He looks so lost, and I don't know what else to do to make him forget everything. Maybe he's just using me as a distraction for whatever else is on his mind, but I'll happily be his distraction forever if he lets me.
My lips brush his, and I hear him breathe something so quietly I barely even hear.
'Don't leave me, ever. Please.' He whispers, eyes now closed.
'I won't.' I whisper back, pressing our lips together. I pray that he lets me follow through with those words. It's true, I won't ever leave him, but I'm scared that he wants me to.
I savour the feeling of his hands all over every inch of my skin, doing my very best to remember what it feels like. I don't want to ever lose the feeling. Harry is completely captivating my body and my mind, and I don't ever want it to go away.
My lips don't leave his as I reach down to touch his perfectly toned stomach, tracing every line of muscle across it. This earns a sigh from him, and that earns one from me. The moment is hot and fervent, but completely filled with an intense feeling of desperation from both of us. It's not a feeling I'm used to, and the unspoken words are making the air heavy. Nonetheless, I can tell that we both need this, even if it's just a tactic to forget everything else for a while.
Despite being so closed off, Harry is strangely vulnerable right now. Like it was on the plane, it feels like he's trying to tell me something without using any words. I'm doing my best to try and figure it out, but I have no idea what he wants to say. I give up, and let myself get lost in him.
I revel in the way his cold rings feel on my skin and how his lips mold to mine. I'm completely submissive under his body, and at this point he could do anything to me and I'd let him without a second thought. I'm doing everything in my power to never let it end. Scared that if I let it end, it won't ever happen again.