#dogyears

This was the most fun I had since moving over here to England, and in the presence of all these ‘misfit’ like personas, I felt at home. There was no awkward beats, shame or egos. The whole atmosphere was completely judgement free and as light as a feather. I talked to everyone, chatting away about California, good food spots, sports and more. I found it so refreshing to be able to relate to other people’s stories about my home state, a place I was starting to long for.

It was fair to say that we were all peak drunk around 12, dancing along to old 70’s hits as well as current ones. Jamie tried to teach us all  ‘TikTok’ dances she had learnt from her children back home. Of course the 5 of us tried our best to be choreographed and in sync, but failed miserably. Little did they all know I spent most of my free time perfecting these stupid dances. Of course any videos we took, were never posted publicly...but some did make the cut as a private post to a whopping 0 followers. Watching Harry Styles sing the words “I'm a savage. Classy, bougie, ratchet, sassy, moody, nasty” with a bunch of hip pops was an award winning scene.

So as it reached 1 am, I was near my max of what I could handle for the night. My head which was once spinning was now beginning to pound and that gross dry feeling in my mouth was taking over. I hated this part. I didn’t feel sick to my stomach yet but I knew if I didn’t get sleep soon I’d be regretting it.

“Hey, so do ya need a ride back home?” Harry’s raspy voice asked, reading the room very well. He had taken a sudden seat next to me on the couch, spreading his legs apart and laying his head back fully — complete relaxation.

“You drank tonight,” I reprimanded him jokingly. But I meant it, he was the most plastered of all of us. “You can’t drive, even if it’s just down the hill.”

“Can’t argue with that,” He hummed. “’M pretty trashed still.”

I turned my head towards him, he was still looking up as if he was admiring the wood paneled ceilings, taking every detail in. But when I looked closer, his eyes were shut. His face structure was flawless if I’d say so myself. His jaw looked like it could cut someone, his eyebrows full enough to make any girl jealous, and those floppy, thick waves — it was hard to admit that he wasn’t handsome. I blinked my eyes hard, trying to get out of the small trance I was under. I was drunk after all.

“Well…” I began, “I need to start heading down to my casa.”

“Well…” Harry chirped, directing his attention towards me. “If I can’t drive you back down, the least I could do is walk you there.”

“No, please,” I scoffed. 

“Yeah, yeah. Shaddup and grab your coat, it’s about to get chilly out there.”

I knew I’d manage doing the walk by myself well enough alone. The premises of Soho Farmhouse were protected with heavy security and gates. I knew I had no reasons to worry about a swift 5 minute trudge down a hill.

“No Harry, seriously. I’ll be fine!” I argued back, forming a tight lip smile to reassure him.

“Who knows?  A bloody chicken could be loose and start chasing you, ya? Plus, it’s my duty to make sure you get back safe. Now, up!” He instructed. “’M a gentleman.”

I knew there was no point in fighting back, he was adamant about it. Plus the look on his face when I obliged was well worth it. 

The two of us said our quick fair wells to everyone  who was still gathered round the kitchen island talking amongst each other. It might have been the alcohol, but I felt oddly emotional saying goodbye to all of them. For the first time in a month I made what felt like real connections with a group of people and all I wanted was to hang out with them forever. I was bummed knowing Jamie and Jeff would only be here for another week or so.

“Shall we take the wagon, bar cart contraption thing?” Harry offered, pointing to the blue wagon filled with alcohol. 

“I don’t even have the keys.”

“Fair enough, walking it is.”

“Thanks for having me tonight,” I spoke tiredly.

“Don’t even worry about it. Glad to be of assistance in the ‘lit’ department,” He laughed, using quotations around the word lit.

“You’re very Americanized,” I noted. He turned his head to me, raising his eyebrow as if he had just been accused of something terrible.

“That’s why I’m back here in the English countryside. Trying to ween away from all that LA bullshit…” He admitted, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“LA bullshit?” I asked, appalled...maybe even a little offended. Although I had lived in Northern California, an insult to one city of my state was an insult to all.

“Yeah, erm, spent too much time there ‘s all...” Harry mumbled. I was almost sure by his tone he was not giving off the complete truth but I didn’t want to push. Harry started to fiddle with his bottom lips, hit teeth constantly biting it over and over. Most likely a nervous habit. 

We continued walking along the cobblestone in silence, the click-clack of our shoes echoing through the emptiness of the night. Despite the quietness of it all, it felt pretty comfortable.

“I love LA,” I offered sheepishly. “I mean, as long as you surround yourself with the right people, I think LA’s one of the best places you could be.”

“Well you’re just saying that,” He countered. “You’re from California, you’re supposed to say that.”

“False!”

“I loved LA too,” Harry admitted, focusing his attention back to the cobblestone ground ahead of him.

“Loved?” I asked inquisitively.

He turned his gaze to me and laughed, “It’s complicated.”

“LA can have that effect,” I said back, trying not to delve any deeper. I had just met him today after all, there was no reason for him to trust me with any of his problems. 

“I think you staying here will definitely be a big change. It’s about as simple as it gets.” I didn’t want to delve any deeper and invade his privacy so I took his explanation as it was. I couldn’t help but think there may have been a direct correlation with his quick mood change yesterday and his reasoning for disliking California. 

“Looking forward to it,” He smiled. “‘S kinda just like, the perfect situation for me. No press, no distractions, just focusing on myself...the music.”

“Mmm, exciting.”

Harry caught my gaze, “You’ve got no idea.”

We began to approach my cottage, the smallest one on the property. The lights on in the kitchen we’re still on from when I left. They were now shining through the windows giving a angelic glow to the darkness of the night.

“No rush to get up early tomorrow.” Harry insisted as we approached the large wooden door. I looked at him excitedly, all I wanted to do was sleep in after tonight and he had just granted me his permission to do so.

“Really?” I questioned.

He nodded his head, “I’ll be sleeping in late too. Bloody tired.”

“Alright I’ll just wait for a text from Jeff..”

Harry cut me off swiftly, “Or myself.” He pointed a finger to his chest playfully.

“Or yourself,” I agreed.

“But don’t worry, like I said, sleep in and uh I’ll see you tomorrow maybe.”

For some unknown reason the air between us felt extremely awkward. I was still a little tipsy, but coming down quickly. I thought to myself that if this was any other guy, I’d probably be on my tippy toes and ready to kiss him, because why not? But it was Harry Styles. He was like my boss, I guess, and he’d have no interest in me. If anything he’d file a restraining order if I tried to pull something like that. I pulled my jacket closer to my body as the air swirled around us.

“Alright well goodnight!” I exclaimed bringing him in for a quick side hug. Harry quickly turned it into a full on hug, giving me a tight squeeze. He smelled divine. How badly I wanted to arch my head up and meet his lips, which were probably freezing. The alcohol just does something to me and makes me want to kiss almost anybody to be fair. Making out with friends whilst drunk was one of my famous traits. It was like he had handed his warmth over to me because being embraced in him I instantly felt warmer, any shivers I once had were gone.

He let go of me and awkwardly stood there, his hands flying into his pockets. “Just want to make sure you get in safe,” He noted, bringing his lips into an awkward smile, shooting his gaze towards the door.

“Oh yeah, of course,” I laughed nervously. I emphasized the key in my hand, giving him a big smile as I twisted it and unlocked the heavy door.

“Right,” He muttered.

“Get back safe!” I chirped, allowing myself to fully walk in the warmth of my cottage and turning to face him.

“I’ll text you.”

“Oh?” I arched my eyebrow at him jokingly.

“Goodnight, Colette.” And with that he turned on his feet, slowly waking back up the treacherous hill and to his abode.

I slammed the door fast, the thunderous noise vibrating through my whole cottage. I rested my back against it in a state of relief and confusion of the encounter I had just endured. Pulling myself back together and avoiding any intrusive thoughts I may begin to think, i decided to start up a hot shower and brew myself tea.

HARRYS POV

I felt weird. I hadn’t felt this way since the night I had met Camille, years ago at a friends party. It was a feeling I longed for, but also was scared of. The creative side of me wanted to embrace the feeling, the broken side of me wanted to steer clear. I knew the girl I had just waved goodbye to depended on this job, I couldn’t just ask for a replacement — plus, I was intrigued. I felt like I was at tug of war with myself over a girl I had just met earlier today. It was a tad ridiculous.

I figured the best thing for me to do was to only call her around when trulynecessary. It wasn’t like me to be this unwelcoming, but the feeling in my stomach that was creeping up to my mind was telling me to be this way. I wasn’t going to text her tomorrow for anything. Colette, right? Yep, that was her name — how could I forget it. A face as pretty as the name. I didn’t say much when I came back into my temporary home, instead I insisted I needed sleep and get a propers nice rest of what was left of it anyways. It was the most polite way to let my dear pals know to fuck off for the night. I loved them all, but I needed to get situated and I wanted space. Time to myself is what I cherished most.

I rushed up to my bedroom, shutting the door and entering the attached bathroom. I neatly undressed myself, taking a deep stare in the mirror. I looked at myself hard, the alcohol was still in my system so I appeared a little fuzzy. I felt older, my hairline was not what it used to be in the 1D days, it didn’t bother me but I had seen some tweets about it. My facial hair was growing in kind of unevenly, this is what I get for wanting to be independent and not have a stylish take care of how I look. I preferred it that way though, that’s how it should be.

Sighing, I went for the toothbrush and started on my nightly routine. I wanted to create a new set of routine now that I was becoming accustomed into this place I’d be calling ‘home’ for the next four months.

After freshening up, I let my body get underneath the cool covers, pulling them up high up to my neck to keep me warm. I stared at my phone that was sitting on the wooden table side. I always kept my phone on Do Not Disturb when I was taking time off for myself. Seeing a bunch of missed calls and emails stressed me out, and I wanted to detach from all that. I let out a puff of air, knowing what I’d be seeing if I decided to take a look at my phone. But the alcohol that was left in me couldn’t hold back so I reached for it anyways.

I quickly opened up the safari tab and typed my own name, something I was never keen on doing. I hadn’t done it for weeks actually, but I knew there was a part of me that needed to see what was being said. Just like that, a bunch of highlights of new articles and my name as well as hers were everywhere.

“Fuck..” I sighed, closing my eyes shut for a second. “Why..”

Camille Rowe, model and famed ex girlfriend of musician and heartthrob Harry Styles releases tell all book — including steamy details of  her former romance with the star!

Click. I waited for the page to load, nervously biting my lower lip.

There’s a lot of things we should thank Camille Rowe for — her Vogue tips on how to achieve the perfect Parisian makeup look, inspiring the fabulous Harry Styles Fine Line album and now releasing a book telling us ALL about her old relationship with the man himself!

Details in the book delve deep into her once what seemed great, but now known doomed relationship with the singer. She mentions details of cheating, jealously and what Harry’s really like in the bed. Thanks Camille — you’ve answered all of our questions. Turns out, Harry is just as packed as we thought he would be!

I couldn’t read it anymore, I felt humiliated and invaded of my privacy. Privacy. The one thing I valued most in my life, the one thing I hold onto like it is the most precious jewel in the world. Privacy — the one thing Camille knew was the most important aspect of my life. I grew up in the spotlight, placed under a huge amount of pressure and scrutiny. I felt as if I was made from a testing tube so specially to fit into a mold of a person I wasn’t.

For so long in my life I had felt as if people knew everything about me, even more than I did — and that’s a harsh feeling. I regained that privacy back after leaving the band and learned how to maintain a healthy balance of showcasing who I was to the world but holding back at the same time. It was what made my albums, my art, so special. Making my songs and putting them out there was  my own personal invitation to those who listened, to get a glimpse into my life.

I felt sick and the alcohol in my stomach stirred the more I thought about that damn book.I was getting older, and alcohol didn’t clique with my body the way it used to. I opened my messages up, seeing Camille’s name at almost the top of my list of new messages, probably trying to apologize.  What she should have done was ask if I was comfortable with her releasing a book that almost solely focused on our past relationship. A relationship that was well done with for almost 3 years now. For fucks sake, I’d always have love for the lady, but she never knew when she took things too far. I finally felt at peace and fully over her, and here she was ambushing my life and swiping away my beloved privacy.

I swiped left on the unopened messages, deleting them before even reading. I had to focus on the positive, that’s why I was here in the countryside after all. I hadn’t answered my publicist since the damn book came out last week, I didn’t even know where to start or what to stay. I wanted to keep silent, MIA.

Tonight with Colette though, I forgot about it all. She was stunning, there was no denying that. Funny too, and a little shy. She didn’t come off star struck by my presence, she treated me like any bloke off the street. Normal. Dropping her off at her cottage tonight, after spending the past few hours with her bloody gorgeous face, I wanted to snog her face off. Was I getting too old to be acting that way? I didn’t want to scare her off though, and that wasn’t really my style anymore.

Hookups and shit. The amount of one night stands from my days in the band were shameful. Thinking back to having security bring girls we thought were hot to our hotel rooms for a quick fuck, was so common back then, it was insane.  It was a part of my life that I felt deep regret for, and sickened me to think about. I was young, horny, and willing to give my body up to any girl. Most of the time, I felt awkward. I’d see a girl at the bar in a fancy hotel we were at, I wouldn’t even say a word to her, 20 minutes later I was back in my room, waiting for my security to drop her off for an hour or so. No phones, sign an NDA, show ID of proof of legal age, be my type and bam, she got to be fucked by Harry Styles.

Things were so much different now, I focused more on making those connections, I found it built more of an attraction. The lead up to the sex or the relationship, was now my favorite thing. After years of getting instant sex, waiting for it had now become the best part.