(Completed.)
Seeing Harry on stage is always an overwhelming experience. He becomes a new person, like he lives just to be in front of thousands people. On stage he is Harry Styles: he runs, dances, says his stupid knock knock jokes and plays with...
" 'Cause they say if you love her let her go And they say if it's meant to be you'll know Know I met a superhero I lost her I want her back She did things to me that no one else could And I miss that"
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Noelle
Funny how life seems to bite you in the ass when you don't expect it to.
It's been two weeks since I came back to London, and in the last week, I lived in a hotel.
Why?
Let's start from the beginning, shall we?
The morning after I worked at the restaurant, I took Thomas to the airport and stayed there with him until his flight was called. Then, I want back home, packed my bag and took it with me at Kleinfeld. I spent there more time than I thought I would. The dress needed several modifications since - apparently - I had lost a few pounds in the last two months and the dress no longer fit me like a glove. The tailor scolded me telling if I lost more weight, they will have to do more arrangements for the dress and it might not be ready for the wedding.
Problem is, I eat like a pig. I really don't know how I managed to lose weight. The only plausible cause is that I'm smoking more than usual - almost too much even for my liking. But I'm stressed, hence the compulsive eating and smoking.
Since the appointment went on longer then I expected, Harry didn't come to pick me up but send me the address of the photoshoot location - much for his dismay, he wanted to send his driver.
I wasn't expecting what I saw when I got there.
He was wearing makeup for God's sake. And no, not the makeup they put on you for a normal photoshoot or record something. It was the feminine kind of makeup.
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I stood there, on the door, watching him speechless. Honestly, I didn't know how to react. When he told me hearing my opinion would have been interesting, I never in a million years thought it would have been about something like this.
The problem was though, that he looked so beautiful it took my breath away. And, no, not only for his appearance but also for the way he proudly wore it. And let's not talk about the tights they made him wear or the big yellow hat they put on his head while his face was completely covered with a white face mask. Awesome, really.
My heart was swollen in pride. He was changing every conventional rule and showing his true self. And who cares about common thought. I've never felt so proud of anyone in my life as I did of him that day.
And it scared me honestly. Be so proud, feeling my heartbeat so fast, it wasn't normal.
I lost count of how many times Harry asked for my opinion that day. He listened to Harry Lambert and Harris Reed - another stylist and his friend that was there that day - but his eyes kept searching for my approval before a picture was taken or he gave his okay for an outfit.
