'Hello Liam.' I smile, staring at the smiling face on Harry's iPhone that I'm holding. Harry decided that we need to call back Liam this morning, after blowing him off all of yesterday to be at the hospital. I wasn't in any state to talk to anybody yesterday, and neither was Harry. It's all still processing and the sadness and hopelessness we both feel is far from gone. I struggled to sleep last night because I kept thinking about Zoe, and all the children like her, but, right now, Liam's mystery call is what we're focusing on.
'Howdy, you two.' Liam says, a very typically Liam Payne sentence. 'Looking in love, just what I like to see.'
'Thank you, Daddy Direction.' I laugh, looking to my side to see Harry with a big smile on his face.
'You know us too well.' He laughs too. 'And, sorry about the other day.' Harry continues, turning to look at me. 'We were..busy.' He says, hiding a smirk. I widen my eyes at him, discreetly telling him to shut his trap.
'You made that pretty clear, actually. I wasn't calling for any rubbish reason or whatever else, though.' Liam laughs. 'I just wanted to tell you that I'm engaged..with Maya obviously. Who else would it be?' He laughs to himself.
'What?' Harry and I ask, gasping in unison. It's typical of Liam to announce this news so casually.
'I proposed to Maya two nights ago.' He says, eyes flitting away from the screen. 'Maya darling, can you come in here?' He shouts, and then Maya appears behind the camera too.
'Hey y'all!' She smiles, the Texan roots coming out.
'Haz finally called me back, so I told them.' Liam tells her, eyes fixed on her face, quite obviously mesmerised by her as soon as she's near him.
'I see.' Maya nods. 'Thanks for finally getting in touch.' She laughs teasingly, looking back to Harry and I.
'Congratulations!' I gleam with a laugh, so happy for the two of them.
'Congratulations!' Harry adds in too. He's a sucker for pregnant women and proposals. 'You're lucky she said yes.' He teases Liam.
'I wouldn't have said yes to you.' Maya shoots back with a smile, attitude coming through that I'm sure Liam adores. Harry and I both laugh in response, and he wraps an arm around my waist, drawing a pattern on the small portion of exposed skin. It's an affectionate gesture, like many of his gestures are, but they never fail to surprise me.
Maya lifts up her hand and wiggles her finger, almost as though to prove she said yes, and on her hand is a huge ring. There's massive rings, and then there's massive rings, and Maya certainly has the latter. The ring is rectangular cut, with small diamonds surrounding the massive centre diamond. It's certainly not my type of ring, but it is beautiful nonetheless. Not even Harry, the king of rings, would wear a ring this big. I'm almost stressed just looking at it.
'Is your finger going to snap with that..like, massive thing on it?' Harry gapes, eyes popping out.
'Let's wait and see.' Maya laughs, winking at Liam, who smiles back at her with all the love in his eyes. My mind drifts back to the conversation I had with Eleanor and Maya a few months ago at that restaurant, when she told us that Liam had talked to her about proposing. The rollercoaster that we've been on between then and now is something for the movies, and their engagement is like the final tie to bring us full circle.
'Can I ask how Mr. Payne proposed?' I ask, changing the topic.
'If it's as extravagant as that ring, then I'm calling it a day.' Harry comments, pulling me closer into his side.
'You'll be lucky if she says yes.' Maya teases, referencing Harry's earlier dig at Liam. 'Would you like to explain?' she asks Liam, wrapping her arm around his shoulder and leaning into him.
'I certainly would.' He states. 'Well, so..I arranged it with Maya's mom, and we set up this beautiful room at your favourite restaurant.' He says, looking at her and completely lost in her eyes. It's almost as though he's recounting the story to her and not us. 'You thought we were going for dinner, but anyway-'
'I did think that.' She adds in, nodding.
'We organised this room full of flowers, and I was waiting in the middle of this array of flowers. And that's how I proposed.' He explains, and now it's her turn to look at him, completely dazed and so very in love.
'I'm impressed.' Harry nods approvingly. 'Were you shocked, Maya?'
'Yes and no. I had a feeling it was coming, but I didn't think he was going to do it then. I didn't think he had it in him to put together such a beautiful proposal.' She grins, trying to tease him, but her gushing delivery of the line unfortunately takes away the effect.
'For you, darling, I'll do it.' Liam says, completely to Maya, likely forgetting Harry and I are even here. Harry watches the interaction between them, and then curls his head between my neck and my shoulder, wrapping his other arm around me so he's clinging to me like a koala. His one cheek rests on my shoulder and he's now positioned sideways, so he can still see Liam and Maya. I reach my hand up to run my fingers through his curls, watching the two of them just stare at each other.
'Can I ask why you didn't answer my first call, H? Were you busy or something? It was pretty late anyway.' Liam asks after finally pulling his gaze from Maya, completely ignoring Harry's clingy behaviour and genuinely curious. I don't know if Liam wants to know.
'Uh..' Harry clears his throat awkwardly, a grin spreading across his face.
'He had matters to attend to. Duties were calling.' I supply, imagining he'll appreciate my response with its many different interpretations. Technically, I'm not lying. He did have duties to attend to, me being the duties.
'You could..uh..yeah, you could say that.' He laughs, burying his head further into my neck.
'Watermelon sugar, of course.' Maya catches on, nodding her head. These 20 year olds are always perceptive.
'Hey.' Harry defends, mouth growing into a lopsided grin. 'That's personal.' After his little rendezvous with Kelli-Anne yesterday morning, I don't know when he became concerned about personal details.
'Watermelon sugar?' Liam asks, looking to Maya for assistance, completely confused. 'His song?'
'You don't get it?' She asks quietly, brows furrowed in lighthearted concern for her clueless fiance.
'No, darling, I don't.' He laughs in amusement, but confusion still very evident on his face.
'I think we need to end this conversation so I can inform him on that sex song, H.' Maya decides, taking the phone out of Liam's hand to end the call. He looks at her in complete bewilderment, totally lost in confusion at the topic at hand.
'We'll leave you to it.' I laugh. 'And congratulations! I'm so happy for you both.'
'You'll make a really good husband and wife.' Harry compliments, in his own unique way, keeping his head on my shoulder. 'And please, inform him on the record.'
Soon after, the call ends, and it's just Harry and I left in this big house. Both my parents are at work, Olivia is at NYU and BL is somewhere with Emmett, likely the only person in the world he has a soft spot for.
Harry spots a chunky cream knitted blanket on the edge of the couch, and pulls away from me to grab it. Olivia and I made this blanket during my last year of college, and it's probably one of my greatest achievements. It was made with a chunky cream merino wool, and Livvy and I took turns hand knitting each row. Harry wraps the massive blanket around him, sitting down in the corner of the couch.
'Come here.' He says quietly, reaching his blanketed arms out wide. His eyes are sparkling, and he doesn't have to ask twice before I'm moving to sit on his lap and his arms are pulling the blanket around both of us. I hold either side of his neck with my hands, my hair falling around us and over the blanket. We're a similar height now, our eyes almost in line.
'We're going to a wedding.' He looks at me innocently, with a gleam in his green eyes. I adoringly smile at him as he reaches one hand up to hold my jawline, brushing the pad of his thumb on my cheek. 'You'll be my date?'
'Of course.' I smile softly. Sometimes, all he'll do is look at me in a certain way, and I'll just melt.
'Good.' He nods, closing the distance between us and kissing me gently and softly, basking in the feeling. He slowly pulls away, and then just watches me, examining every part of my face like it's the first time. First his gaze starts on my eyes, and then it moves to my nose, and then it settles on my lips, thumb continuing to brush my cheek.
'What is it?' I ask quietly with a smile, brushing a stray curl off his face, watching his eyes come back up to meet mine.
'Nothing.' He smiles softly, eyes flitting down to my lips and kissing me again. His hand that was holding the blanket around us moves to my lower back to pull me closer to him, and the blanket falls around my hips. I ignore the loss of warmth, moving my hands up into his hair, to play with the chestnut curls I'll forever be obsessed with.
He slowly pulls away for air, leaving our noses brushing, foreheads touching and pulling the blanket around us again. Then he leans back in, kissing my top lip and leaning backwards on the couch, so my body is pressed into his chest. His one arm reaches right around my back, pulling me even closer into him, with his other remaining on my cheek.
'Everything changed, because of you.' He murmurs against my lips, out of nowhere. 'I didn't think anything would change, and then it did.'
I open my eyes and look at him expectantly, because that wasn't nothing. I wait for him to extend on what he means by his words that almost sound like lyrics to a song, but he doesn't. He just looks at me, taking in every feature of my face, almost watching my reaction to his sentiment.
I lean my forehead to touch his, and continue with my hands laced in his hair, brushing through all the unstyled and freshly washed curls, because I don't know what to say to such a raw feeling.
I curl my head into his neck as he wraps both his arms around my lower back, so I can be closer to him. I'll always be his, whether he likes it or not.
I wonder if it's just a culmination of yesterday's events, and Liam and Maya's engagement that made him feel this way, that I changed everything. Those children changed my perceptions towards my own life, so I can only imagine he's feeling the same. That, paired with finding out someone he grew up with is now engaged, is surely a reason to be hit with a wave of such sentimental emotions.
I don't think I changed everything, because I don't know how I could have changed everything. He let himself love me, and I stopped pushing away that I loved him, but I didn't change everything. He gave me a forever, and he changed that, but I don't know if that's everything and I don't know if that's what he means.
'I really have to go.' He murmurs, tightening his arms around my waist like he doesn't want to go.
'Where?' I ask, confused, with my cheek pressed into his shoulder, no clue on what he's talking about. I don't want him to go either.
'I don't really want to tell you that.' He says quietly, and I can feel him smiling against my cheek. 'Maybe you'll find out, on,' He trails off, trying to remember something I know nothing about. 'October 30, I think. Or maybe I'll tell you sooner.'
He moves his hand under me on his shoulder, and lifts my face to meet his, gently kissing me again and holding my cheek delicately.
'Tom and Tyler are waiting.' He mumbles against my lips after a while, with our foreheads pressed together. 'Mitch might be there too.'
'Tom and Tyler are in New York?' I ask, pulling away to study his face and process his words.
'They are.' He nods shyly, breaking out into a big grin and looking down to my hands to conceal his smile. Obviously whatever he's doing with Tom, Tyler and possibly Mitch, is enough to make him smile so bright that his dimples come out and his adorable bunny teeth are on display.
He reaches to twist the rings on my fingers, still smiling. When he's not wearing any rings of his own, he'll play with mine, which are much smaller and far more dainty.
'What are you doing with Tom and Tyler?' I laugh at how adorable he's being. I look down at my hand as he slips a silver ring off the top of my index finger and slides it onto his own pinky, twisting it around. 'Is it a day for the boys to catch up and do some shrooms?' I ask. At this stage, that might be the only possible explanation.
'I..uh, no.' He laughs, sliding the ring back onto my finger and letting go of my hand to brush his finger under his nose, like he often does when he laughs. 'I didn't do mushrooms for this one.'
'I don't know what this one is referring to.' I smile, because he's just so precious with his shy little smile and one piece curly hair falling into his face.
'You're not supposed to know.' He smiles too, leaning in so his lips touch mine. 'But you'll know soon.' He kisses me, and I can feel the grin on his face.
In 10 minutes, Harry leaves, and I'm left alone in the house. After realising that I have nothing to do, but deciding that I'm also not in the mood to go out of my way to catch up with any old friends or anyone else, I decide to go spend some time exploring New York, a place that always seems to house more surprises despite living here my whole childhood.
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I opted for the same straight leg jeans and black turtleneck as yesterday, now freshly washed, given my limited wardrobe and Harry's mirage of pink and purple on my neck. It's getting colder in New York, so I added a tan brown double breasted trench coat, long enough to reach below my knees. YSL has started sending me clothes because of our affiliation after the blog post and me going to the show in Paris, the trench coat being one of the pieces they sent me. It's massive, and the only reason I was able to bring it to New York is because I wore it on the plane. I added a pair of mossy leather green heeled boots for some colour, and Gemma's Goodbye Stranger sunglasses with Kenmark, in the palm colour. There's no need to be wearing sunglasses, but paparazzi can run rampant in New York, and I'd rather stay somewhat concealed.
So, as I walk down the streets of Chinatown, admiring all the classic brick architecture I'll never not love, my mind drifts back to yesterday and the children we met.
There are a lot of things that happen in my life that I'm able to put behind me and ignore. But sometimes, something happens that can't just be ignored and forgotten, and seeing those kids yesterday was not something that goes away. While I may no longer be at the hospital, their stories and their lives have followed me since we walked out.
For the last day, my mind has continued to drift back to how lucky I am. It's little things that I wouldn't think about, that make their lives so much harder. Like how Chloe was so excited to play with Harry's hair because she didn't have any of her own to play with. At first glance I could see there was no hair under her light blue beanie, but things like not having the ability to run her hands through her hair or play with it when she gets bored wasn't something I'd ever thought about. Or Zoe, not being able to move to touch her foot. The reality of not being able to move to scratch an itch or soothe a pain isn't something I've thought about before.
Their lives aren't supposed to be like that, and especially not their childhoods. I can't even begin to imagine how little of a normal childhood Zoe got to experience before everything was stripped away from her.
It's settled in me during the last day that there isn't really anything I can do to take away their pain, and there isn't anything I can do to directly help either.
That's when my phone dings with a text from Harry, and I move to the edge of the sidewalk to read it.
I really like this one. It's special.
I don't even know what he likes and why it's special, but the words still bring a smile to my face because he's talking about whatever he went to do today.
I imagine it must be perfect.
It's not perfect yet, but I'm giving it to you. My prettiest baby is yours.
I bite the tip of my thumb to hide my smile when I read his words, feeling the warmth of realisation spread in my chest. I think he's writing a song, and he's giving it to me.
My prettiest baby is a reference to how he once described Fine Line in an interview, a song he once told me he wrote about us. This one, is referring to that song, and he's doing it with Tom Hull, Tyler Johnson and Mitch Rowland, his writer companions.
That sparks an idea in my head. He's giving me a song, and I want to give something to all the children like Zoe and Chloe.
I'm going to donate half of the money the blog makes, which is much more than I need, to the American Childhood Cancer Organisation. An organisation that I've become familiar with, who could do so much good with what I make from the blog.
I've gotten to know kids like Zoe and Chloe my whole life, through all my visits to my mom's work, and this feels like everything I should have done so long ago. It's the piece of good that I can put into the world, in the hopes that maybe it can help support these children and their families in a battle that they never should have had to fight.
'Hi..um..' A little boy comes up to me, mumbling, pulling me out of my reverie. He has a phone in his hands, and his mom..I think his mom, is standing a little way away, watching our interaction with a smile on her face.
'Hello.' I smile, crouching down to meet this little boy with brown curly hair. 'What can I do for you?'
'Can I please take a photo with you?' He asks, handing me the phone in his hand. He can't be any older than 9.
'Of course you can.' I smile, slipping my own phone into my jacket pocket, and taking the one in his. 'What's your name?'
'Kieren.' He grins. 'My brother has a crush on Harry. Sometimes I see you with Harry in photos.' He shrugs, giggling. 'My mom told me to ask for a photo.'
'Did she?' I smile, humoured. 'I am with Harry a lot.' I laugh, holding out the camera to take the photo. 'Are you ready to smile?' I ask him, turning my head to see his little button nose. He nods, grinning for the camera, with one missing front tooth.
We take the photo, with me crouched on the ground and him standing with our shoulders touching.
'How's that?' I ask, showing the phone screen with the photo of us. I realise that I look slightly intimidating with Gemma's big sunglasses on, so I quickly take them off. 'How about you wear these?' I smile, sitting them on his nose. He has a round little face, with chubby cheeks, and the glasses nearly slide off his nose and fall off his face, but he manages to keep them up. He just giggles, pushing them up the bridge of his nose and holding them in place.
I take another photo, this time with my tongue sticking out, and I capture the photo when he's in the middle of laughing, showing his toothless grin.
'Are they good?' I ask Kieren, swiping between the two photos.
'Mhm.' He nods enthusiastically, passing me back my sunglasses and sticking them on my face like I did to him. 'Thank you.' He smiles, quickly wrapping me in a tight hug with his small arms.
'Tell your brother that Harry is very flattered that he has a secret admirer.' I tease, scrunching my nose as he pulls away from our hug. I'm not entirely sure if he knows what flattered means, but he seems to be going with it.
'I will.' He nods, and then excitedly runs back to his mom with the phone outstretched to show her the photos. She gives me an appreciative smile and mouths a 'thank you', as Kieren wraps his arms around her leg, and I smile back.
Quickly after they're gone, I continue my walk down Hester Street, and I come to the conclusion that once we're back in LA I'm going to organise meetings to get this donation plan organised as soon as possible. I want to post my latest post tomorrow, and I'd like to start the donations from there. Before I can get too engrossed and excited about the idea that finally makes me feel like I can do something to help these children and their families, I notice a man on the other side of the street taking photos of me. I didn't think the paparazzi would find me in Chinatown, but I was obviously mistaken.
I'm getting used to being photographed in a lot of the places I go now, whether it's with Harry or not. I'm yet to be swarmed again after I was in the airport the night I got home from Paris and everything fell apart, but I'm beginning to get used to paparazzi. I don't know what I'll do if I get swarmed, but I'm getting increasingly familiar with being photographed by one or two people.
Regardless, I'd rather not be photographed on a walk I was just trying to enjoy in solitude, so in some sort of attempt to lose the paparazzi, I slip into the store I'm walking beside.
I only realise once I'm in the store that I've walked into Bode, one of Harry's greatest loves. So many of his shirts and jackets are from Bode that I'm starting to lose count, and I'm a huge fan myself. I've met the designer and owner, Emily, a few times through Harry, and it seems I'm about to run into her again.
'Sophie? Is that you?' Emily grins, appearing from behind a wooden pillar with a massive bag on her shoulder.
'It is Sophie.' I laugh, quickly taking my sunglasses off, pushing them up on top of my head, and walking over to give her a hug.
'What brings you to New York? How are you?' She asks, as I take in the surroundings. I've been in the Bode studio before with Harry when he's tried on custom pieces, but I've never actually been in the store before. Emily once mentioned to Harry and I that there's only one Bode store, which can be found in Chinatown, and I've obviously found it.
The store is like a complete alternate universe from the bricked streets I was just walking down. Inside, the lighting is warm, to create a real ambience, and there's wooden arches, pillars and alcoves that deviate from the main space. There's a portion of the roof that isn't made from the mahogany wood, painted with different trees and plants, hosting a chandelier that hangs in the middle. The initial entryway and opening area transitions to a larger room further back from the door, with a green accent wall and a purple couch, set up like a living room. The store is an intimate experience in itself, with various niches and areas holding different shirts, jackets and pants. The store is hard to even describe in words, but it's by far the most beautiful looking store I've ever seen.
'We came to watch some friends perform and to spend time with my family.' I explain, snapping out of my trance. 'This store is incredible.' I admire, still completely mesmerised.
'Thank you.' She smiles, putting an appreciative hand on my shoulder. 'We designed it to be like an old American hotel lobby.' That's probably the perfect way to describe it.
'That makes a lot of sense.' I laugh.
'I came over to look through all the designs in the store, but I was just about to grab lunch and go back to the studio. Did you want to join?' She asks. The studio is also in Chinatown, not far from here, but I'm not sure that the paparazzi are going to let a trip to grab lunch be particularly easy.
'I would love to, but I actually came in here because there was paparazzi following me, and I was trying to escape. They might still be out there.' I laugh, appreciating her offer nonetheless.
'Oh.' She hums, realisation setting in. But before long, I realise she's not actually humming in acknowledgment, but she's thinking. 'I have an idea.'
'Yes?' I laugh again, shocked at how friendly she is. Emily and I aren't strangers, but we've only spoken a handful of times one-on-one, yet it feels like we're falling into conversation like old friends would.
'What if you change into some of the unfinished pieces I have here?' She suggests, pulling open the bag on her arm to reveal a bag full of folded fabrics. 'That way, they won't know you're walking out of the store, and we can leave in peace.'
I don't even know what to say to her idea, but it could actually work.
'I'll just sandwich you between the wall and me, and then if they even try to get a look at your face, all they'll see is me.' She offers. 'And, my car isn't far, if you want to just come with me. I think we could do it.' She laughs, set on this idea.
'It could work.' I decide, completely humoured and smiling. In any other circumstance I'd feel like I was seriously imposing on someone, but Emily seems to be more excited about this idea than me. I also wasn't in the mood to have to interact with other people today, which is why I didn't organise to catch up with any New York friends, but Emily has a magnetic personality I'm just drawn to.
'Great. Follow me.' She grins, beckoning me to an area hidden from the public.
Once we're in some sort of back room, she starts rifling through her bag and pulls out a long sleeved canvas shirt that I could see Harry wearing, and matching pants in a cream colour. There's a separate laced fabric stitched around the middle of the shirt and the ankles of the pants in a diamond pattern, but the rest is plain. There's something nautical about the set, despite the lack of decoration.
'These might be a little too big on the waist, but I can pin them for you.' She laughs, the inner designer coming out as she examines the size of the waist. 'These are unfinished, by the way. I want to embroider some designs on the both pieces, but I just don't know what yet.' She includes.
'What about something nautical?' I suggest, my inner designer coming out of nowhere. 'Like sailboats and waves, or something like that? Maybe with purples, blues and yellows to compliment the colour of the fabric?' I suggest, but it doesn't take a second longer for me to realise that I just started to give design advice to Emily Adams Bode, and instantly try to retract the last 15 seconds. Who do I think I am? Alessandro Michele?
'Sorry, that was completely unneeded.' I laugh, attempting to save face. I'm borderline mortified. The space fills with silence for a second, and I nearly combust from my actions, until Emily starts speaking.
'Did you just come up with that?' She asks incredulously. She must be horrified right now.
'Please don't ask.' I cringe, willing to do anything to pretend I never said anything. I cannot believe I started giving design ideas to Emily Adams Bode, the first female fashion designer to ever show at New York Men's Fashion Week. I really am getting too big for my boots, that just so happen to be a mossy green colour today.
'What are you talking about, S?' She laughs. I'm so confused. Now she's calling me S, and she's saying it like she actually likes my idea. 'That's perfect. I could embroider sailboats here and here.' She says, pointing to the spaces below the back pockets and on the back of the knees. 'And some simple stitched waves and a sun, and then figures here.' She continues, pointing mid thigh.
'You could do it on both sides of the pants? So..like, matching embroidery that corresponds with one another on each side of the legs.' I comment, suddenly becoming a fashion designer again. I told myself at Paris Fashion Week that I wanted to pursue something in fashion, and obviously that alter ego has reappeared.
'Yes, S, yes!' She cheers, putting her hands on my shoulders in celebration. 'I have to tell Carolina about this!' I have no idea who Carolina is, but apparently she has the same name as one of Harry's songs. 'Carolina is my studio manager.' She informs me, nodding. 'Can I postpone lunch with you while I call her?'
'Of course.' I laugh, dumbfounded at the fact she actually likes this idea. I don't even know what came over me when I suggested the idea, and I'm thanking my lucky stars that she's not seriously offended by my audacity. I have to have entered the twilight zone.
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My time with Emily extended much longer than I thought it would, and it's almost started to get dark. She gave me a much more in depth tour of the studio than I've had before, and showed me all the pieces that her and the Bode team are working on.
Harry has always been a huge fan of Bode, and I've always loved their pieces, but seeing the process and truly getting to witness them work was incredible. It not only put into perspective the effort that goes into each piece and the passion each designer has, but also gave me such a great respect and insight into how they source their fabrics and design in a way that is so sustainable and authentic. It goes without saying that I felt out of my depth in the studio with such talented designers, but I also felt like I was strangely in my element.
When I walk back in through the door to my house, no longer dressed in Bode menswear, I find my mom in the kitchen in a tense conversation with my dad.
I can't hear what they're saying, but Kelli-Anne has the same look on her face that she had when my dad brought up Harry at breakfast yesterday, and I know not to interrupt. So, I just slink up to my bedroom and don't disturb them. My parents very rarely disagree on anything, and it was so uncommon for me to see them ever raise their voices at each other throughout my whole childhood, so I don't want to get in the way.
I half expect to find Harry in my room when I walk in, but he's not there. The room is empty, but as I turn the lights on and bend down to take my boots off, I notice a small box on my bed.
On closer inspection, I realise the box is a box of pregnancy tests, 3 tests to be exact, alongside a note in my mom's cursive.
Sex creates babies! You might need these after your evening shower escapades. Mom.
If mommy dearest wasn't in a discussion with daddy dearest, she would be getting berated right now.
I grab the box and the note and put them in my suitcase, already knowing that my mom won't take either of her little gifts back, regardless of the fact they'll probably be expired by the time I actually need a pregnancy test.
I quickly change into sweats and a tshirt, sitting down on my bed and opening my laptop to work on the blog post that I want to get done for tomorrow. Breaking the boundaries of gendered fashion design.
Not long after that, I hear my door open and look up to find Harry.
'Hey-' I go to smile, until my gaze settles on his face, with deep frown lines and a frantic look in his eyes. He leans back against the door, with one palm flat on the wood and the other pinching his lip. I don't even know if he's registered that I'm in the room.
I quickly get up, uncrossing my legs and closing my laptop, walking over to him. There's tears threatening to spill out of his green eyes.
'What is it?' I murmur, moving my hands to hold his jawline. I really don't even know if he realised that I was in the room, because his eyes snap up to meet mine when my hand meets his skin, as though my touch surprised him.
He just vehemently shakes his head, pulling me closer to him and softly kissing my forehead, leaving his lips there. I look up to meet his eyes after a while, and he looks back with a pained and hurt expression on his face.
'You need to talk to me, please.' I whisper, pleadingly. Our problem is communication issues. That was made very clear after everything that happened only a month ago, and I refuse to let us become those people again.
'I just..I sort of don't care what people think of me. I'm not living to please these people who won't ever have an impact on me, but I..I care about what you think of me, and to an extent you're one of the few that that applies to. And there's your mom and dad and like..I don't want to be the man who they'll, I guess..just never be happy with for you.' He chokes.
'What?' I breathe, pulling away to study his face and feeling a sting behind my own eyes. It hurts me just as much it hurts him to think that my parents could feel that way. He's my person, and I have every intention of him being my person until the day I die, and like him, I care about what they think. 'They love you, Harry.' I say, feeling a tug in my heart when the honest truth is that I don't know how my dad feels about him, but I don't think it's positive. I know my mom adores Harry, but I'm not so sure about my dad.
'They, um..they don't. Not your dad.' He whispers, letting his head fall so I can't see his face, just like he always does when he cries. 'I didn't try to, but I heard them talking..he thinks I'll leave you and that I'm not, I guess I'm not committed to you, and it's the whole..' He admits, trailing off.
'The womaniser thing.' I supply, hating the word. I knew he wasn't always the most enthusiastic around Harry, but the thought that my own father could think that I'm being strung along, is a stab in the chest.
'Yeah.' He nods tinily. 'You know that I'm not..that that's not me, don't you?' He asks, so scared, still avoiding looking at me, and it feels like the ground has just come out from under my feet.
'Hey, look at me.' I say gently, moving my hands back up to his face to make his eyes meet mine. 'I promise I know that. Please don't ever let yourself think like that.'
He just nods, scrunching his nose to try and stop any tears from falling. He lets his head fall so it meets my forehead, only bringing our bodies closer together. 'I'm in so deep with you.' He murmurs, lips barely even moving it's so quiet.
'I know.' I nod against him, reassuring him that I know he's in just as deep as I am. 'I'm going to go talk to my dad.' I decide, knowing that I can't let this go on for any longer.
'Okay.' He breathes, bringing one hand up to my cheek and kissing me, sighing against my lips. I know that this is what he does. When he doesn't know how to express how he feels in words, he'll kiss me softly, telling me through that. It's exactly what he did this morning.
I reluctantly leave the room, and go down the stairs to find my parents.
I find them in the living room, so I assume Harry walked into the kitchen when he got back and overheard their conversation without them being able to see him. Just before I walk in, I unintentionally hear part of the conversation too.
'I can't tell you that he's genuine if that isn't how I feel. She's our little girl, Kelli and he's a rockstar who travels the world with people throwing themselves at him on every continent. What's to say he has any self control with the lifestyle he lives.'
'This is all because you've made no effort to get to know him. I don't know what picture you've got painted, but I can tell you with certainty that you're wrong. In the few times you make an effort to actually speak to him, you just undermine him, Daivick.'
'I hope you know he heard you, dad.' I snap, walking into the room, already hugely annoyed at the part of the conversation I overheard, as well as whatever he said that caused Harry to react the way he did.
For a second my dad looks taken aback, but then quickly recovers.
'I'm sorry, Soph, I am. But that's how I feel and I don't want to see you hurt.' He says, words that are meant to bring peace, but only anger my mom and I more. Ever since we came to New York after the last tour ended, he's been cold, and it's coming to a head now.
'What more can he do to show you that he's genuine?' My mom argues, looking at her husband in complete annoyance.
'I am hurt, because you're telling me he's some unfaithful, womanising rockstar. You're hurting me. He's not hurting not me.' I almost yell.
'That's not what I said-'
'But that's what you think.' I interrupt. 'Out of all the things he could be doing, he's here, in your house. He suggested we come here, and was more than happy to stay in this house to spend time with my family, when he could have easily gone and done anything else, or gone to see his own family, whom he also hasn't seen in months, dad.' I snap. 'So don't start talking about how he isn't genuine, or insinuate he's only keeping me around out of boredom, when there are a million other things he could be doing right now than here, with us.'
'I understand that, and I think that's great, but you can't tell me that someone with as much fame as him couldn't easily get distracted by someone new, when there are millions vying for his affection.' My dad retorts. My mom's phone starts ringing beside her, but she quickly declines the call.
'I cannot believe you, Daivick!' My mom shouts.
'There might be millions, but I have his affection, and I find it insulting for both him and I that you think he'd drop me if someone better came along.' I argue, getting more annoyed the longer this goes on. My mom's phone starts dinging with texts, and then another call, and this time she leaves the room, answering his call.
'That's not what I mean, Soph. Any man would be lucky to have you, I just worry that someone with his reputation might not have your best interests at heart.' He continues.
'And what reputation is that?' I bite. 'The reputation that his whole philosophy is Treat People With Kindness? The one where he preaches equality and donates to charities at every location when he's on tour, or visits a children's hospital to meet sick children? Maybe the one where he spends his days off spending thousands of dollars on food to give to homeless people, or the one where he waves pride flags and Black Lives Matter flags on stage?' I list, getting on a real roll. 'Or are you talking about the one where he sleeps his way around the country with every woman in sight? Because it seems like you might be referring to that one.' I finish. Is it disrespectful to talk to my own father like this? Just before my dad opens his mouth to reply with something I don't really want to hear, my mom speaks from outside the room, saying something that's hard to decipher through her sobbing.
'Oh my god.' I think she says, and then rushes up the stairs.
I walk out of the living room to go follow her up the stairs and see if she's alright, not wanting anything to do with my dad, but then she comes rushing down the stairs again with tears streaming down her face and Harry in tow.
'I can tell him, can't I?' She rushes out, asking Harry as she wipes her eyes.
'Yeah..uh, yeah. Sure.' Harry nods hesitantly, eyes still red rimmed and looking right at me like he's trying to warn me about something that my mom is about to say.
'Fiona called me and told me that the hospital processed a donation earlier today.' She begins, nearly skipping words in her frantic state. '$300,000 donated anonymously.' She starts crying again, letting go of Harry's hand and wiping under both her eyes. 'It's from him. He donated it.' She says, tipping her head to point to Harry. Oh my god.
'Is that true?' My dad asks, with a softened tone, because he loves his wife like nobody else, and if something Harry did made her this happy, then of course he's going to soften.
'Uh..yeah. It's anonymous, but it was from me.' He admits, standing on the stairs and fiddling with the bottom of his hoodie.
My eyes start filling up with tears and pouring out like my mom's, because he's an angel.
I walk over to him on the stairs, reaching to touch his hand playing with his hoodie.
'You did that?' I ask quietly.
'Yeah.' He nods, wiping away my own tears with a glazed over look in his eyes. I don't really have any words to show how much this means to my mom, and to these kids and their families, and how much it means to me.
At the same time, we both stop looking at each other to survey my mom beside us and my dad standing beside the counter.
'It's not a..um, big-' Harry starts.
'No, it is a big deal.' My dad interrupts. 'Thank you.' He nods, so obviously genuine. I look at him with a look on my face, and I think my mom does too, both waiting and hoping he's going to say something more about what was just going on 5 minutes ago. 'Look, I'm sorry. I was being a protective father, scared to give up my little girl and I took it out on you, Harry. That's my fault.'
'It is your fault.' My mom adds in, still annoyed but more focused on Harry right now.
Harry just nods, acknowledging the apology and I think, accepting it, but I already know that not all will be forgiven. 5 months of treatment like that with such a skewed outlook isn't fair.
'I can't thank you enough, Harry. I really can't. This is going to do so much good.' My mom says, tears still welling in her eyes, as she pulls Harry away from me and into her own arms. 'Now go and have thankyou sex with, Sophie.' She laughs, shooing us away.
'Mom, that's just inappropriate.' I cringe, while Harry laughs beside me. Typical.
Once we're back in my room, he obviously turned the light off when he left, because it's dark. He quickly turns a lamp on, sits down in the middle of my bed and starts justifying why he did what he did.
'I just..yesterday, I felt like I couldn't do anything and it killed me to see those little children face that every day. And I just..I guess I hate being that person to watch something happen and..like, not do anything about it, and I know it can't change everything, but maybe it can change something.' He explains.
'It's going to do so much.' I simply reply, holding his face in my hands and kissing him. 'You have no idea how much this will mean to everyone there. It's going to change so much.' I decide, not needing any expert knowledge to be able to conclude that much.
'Speaking of change, I finished a song today.' He says, starting to smile again. 'I think I'm going to call it Changes, and it's for you.'