What a guy.
It's not everyday you get to meet Harry Styles. Let alone spend hours wandering the streets of New York talking about nothing and everything.
Harry freaking Styles.
The famous singer, actor, model.
And all round lovely company.
I cannot fathom the fact he wanted to spend time with me.
If it wasn't for my insecurities getting in the way then I would have asked for his number.
You can't exactly blame me.
It is the Harry Styles. The same man who probably has thousands of girls asking for his number day in day out.
And I think I'm special enough for him to actually give me his number.
Not a chance in hell.
So to save myself the heaps of embarrassment, I chose not to say anything more.
But I must admit, it was nice to be that girl for once.
I don't know if it's something I'd be able to do on a regular basis, so I admire Harry for that.
The thought of all attention on me, is my epitome of fear.
Dance is different. Because in dance no one knows who you are. They see you in costume and from afar.
But to have someone knowing all details of my life with a constant watch over me seems so suffocating.
Still, these types of things never happen to me.
Esme on the other hand. I'm surprised she hasn't met Harry Styles with her lifestyle.
She's the girl you'd expect these things to happen to.
The same girl who'd be photographed, looking effortlessly stunning on the front cover of a magazine.
Oh God.
I hope nobody saw us together.
The last thing I need is for Harry to be affected by talking to me.
With my luck, I'd somehow manage to ruin his career in one night.
I walk myself over to the coffee machine, physically shaking the thoughts from my head.
Right now, I need to just take a deep breath and not think about it too much because I'll get worked up over literally nothing but my imagination.
I reach for one of the mugs on the drying rack, placing it under the machine and clicking the button for black coffee.
There's really no point in me going to bed, I'd rather push through the day with somewhat productivity rather falling asleep now and not getting up until nine in the evening.
Ever since I was little, I've been an early riser. There's something about the fresh crisp air. It almost feels cleaner.
That with a mix of the gentle sound of birds chirping and the glow of a rising sun is so soothing.
Like there's nothing else in the world.
It's selfish of me, I know.
But for that small moment where I can just breathe and not think about all the negative in the world.
No war.
No pollution.
No extinction.
Instead I see it as new.
New beginnings.
New opportunities.
New life.
I'm so encapsulated by my own thoughts I barely register the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen.
"And where on earth have you been, you party animal? It's not often I find you walking in at five in the morning from a night out." Esme's tired voice speaks from behind me.
I can't believe I forgot to mention her.
She doesn't know about Harry.
What on earth am I supposed to say?
I can't suddenly blurt out 'Oh I was just hanging out with the man you devote your life to'.
She'd have a multitude of reasons to kill me.
1. I didn't tell her
2. I didn't introduce them.
3. I didn't get any memorabilia from meeting him - not even a photo.
4. I didn't get his number.
And those are only the first few that spring to mind.
I just know she'd have more reasons to be frustrated with me.
"Oh I was with Michael." I lie, keeping my back to her so she can't read my facial expressions, which would obviously give away my lying.
Well. Technically I'm not lying.
I was with him for a small while.
I'm just withholding some of the truth.
"Ooo. How are you two love birds?" She questions with another yawn, hopping up onto the counter.
I pass her the cup of coffee I just made and put another cup under the machine, clicking the same black coffee option.
"I think he's my soulmate Es." I say with a quiet sigh, finally admitting the truth.
It feels so weird to say that aloud.
"Well duh. Of course he is." She replies nonchalantly, like it was so obvious.
Which I guess it was.
I hum a reply, not wanting to further the conversation.
He's a lovely guy.
I just have to keep telling myself that.
But I just don't understand that if he really is my soulmate, why haven't I fallen in love with him yet.
"What's wrong E?" She questions. She's always been able to read me like a book.
I shake my head, refusing to look at her because I know if I do, then I'll start to cry because I can already feel the wetness in the corner of my eyes becoming heavy.
"What's up babycakes?" Esme asks again, this time grabbing my arm and pulling me to stand between her legs.
I rest my head on her stomach, her fingers brushing down my hair in a soothing manner, similar to how my mum used to when I was little.
It's weird how scared I am of the future.
I have this irrational fear that I'll never be happy. That I won't find true love that supposedly lasts forever. That I'll never be happy with what I do in life. That I'm going to let everyone around me down.
It's like what I was saying with Harry, dance isn't something I went into by choice, and although I love it, I don't think I'd ever be able to leave. Even if I wanted to.
My family expect me to work myself to the bone, stop at nothing until I am the best.
Not the best that I can be.
But simply the best. The best of the best.
And I thought I wanted that to.
Except now, after talking to Harry I feel so unsure if that's me or that's what I'm taught to believe.
And I don't mean to sound rude but the thought of Michael being it for me, scares me.
It's so staged.
The way we are with each other, it feels so forced.
I guess I just never really thought of it like this before. But I'm pretty sure he's only the way he is with me because he always assumed I was his soulmate.
And I can't help but feel so ungrateful.
I have this life.
This perfect life that I have dreamt of since I was little.
It's always been the plan for me and Esme to move to New York together once I got into The Royal Ballet School.
I dreamt I'd meet the perfect man and then once I graduated, I'd get an offer from my dream company.
Then I'd move to France and live out the rest of my life there.
But dreams change.
I just don't want that anymore.
The irony is, all throughout highschool they tell you how you need a plan. How you must know exactly where your life is going and to have it pinned down, each second accounted for.
But I had that, and it's not gotten me anywhere.
Whereas Esme doesn't have a clue what she's doing, she takes it day by day and she's so happy.
Even after her terrible tinder dates.
All night I was hearing these spectacular stories from Harry about how he's travelled all over the globe with his tours and it sounds so magical.
It sounded like actually living. rather than barely scraping by which is how I feel most days.
"E, why don't you go and lay on the couch and put on a movie. I can stay home with you if you want. You're probably feeling a little low because it's unlike you to stay out all night and you can get very cranky when you're sleep deprived." Esme tries to joke, making me smile a little.
"You don't have to stay home. You gotta help pay the bills somehow." I say pulling away from her embrace as she lets out a chuckle.
As she hops down from the counter she pulls me in for another hug, planting a soft kiss on my forehead as she does so.
I'm so lucky to have a best friend like her.
"Love you Es." I speak out as a last minute thought just before she disappears into her bedroom to get ready.
"I love you too E." She yells back from inside her bedroom.
I walk into my room, deciding a change of clothes is necessary.
If it weren't for Esme then I'd probably have next to no clothes. But she always gives me her old outfits as well as spontaneously ordering me things.
I kick off my heels and unzip the black dress.
Never in my life do I think I've felt more glamorous than I did last night. I'm eternally grateful for Esme's makeup and fashion assistance because God knows what I would've shown up in.
Whatever it would have been, I can tell you with confidence that I would not have caught Harry Styles attention if I had picked my outfit.
But right now I can't exactly be bothered to look fashionable, so instead I pull a knitted pastel blue jumper that stops just above my belly button, pairing it with white joggers and fluffy socks.
I grab the pink teddy-bear from the end of my bed and walk back into the living room slash dining area, throwing myself down on the blankets already thrown across the couch.
Esme re emerges from her bedroom holding a hot water bottle in one hand and some folders in the other.
She walks around until she's standing in front of me.
She then proceeds to crouch down in front of me, so she isn't so intimidating and places the water bottle onto my stomach.
"For the pre-period cramps." She explains with a smile.
Mine and Esme's periods have been synced with one another since we first got our periods.
Luckily for us, she becomes emotional and has the majority of the side effects post-period week and mine is pre-period.
Otherwise we'd disagree over every minor detail and I don't think either of us would have the energy for constant arguments like that.
We're complete opposites meaning our views or opinions often clash.
The majority of the time we overcome our differences, but she can be very stubborn. As can I.
"Thanks again Es. Good luck with the audition." I refer to the folder containing her portfolio, remembering she has another interview with a modelling agency.
"I love you and I'll message you when I'm on my way home. Ooo and then we can order Chinese take out." Before I can respond she's already out of my line of sight, knowing how I would've told her we don't have the money to repeatedly order take out food.
That, and I'm not supposed to be off of the diet plan my dance coach set for me.
Only a few more moments pass before I hear the sound of keys rattling and the door shutting.
I let out an unsteady breath, still feeling incredibly overwhelmed from the thoughts swimming in my mind.
There's only one thing that can make me feel better right now.
More specifically one song.
I stand from the couch and walk over to the television and switch on the DVD player, knowing the movie I want is already in the machine waiting from when I watched it the other day.
As the TV comes to life the familiar tune fades slowly in and I can't help but smile a little, a feeling of relief washing through me.
I grab the DVD casing from the chest next to the television where all the other DVDs are kept and skim read it on my way back to the comfort of the blanket covered couch.
My favorite movie with my favorite song.
Grease.
Hi, I'm back and I'll be posting more regular now. Also thank you so much for 15k in a month ahhh!