Wanderlust

What a beautiful day for a shoot! What’s everyone up to?

I closed my tweet and looked up from my phone, staring back at myself from the mirror in front of me. A young woman with long blonde hair was playing with my own locks, having been instructed to create a messy ‘beach meets streets’ look by the director of the photo shoot I was about to stand for. My face had already been made up, bronzed deeper than my naturally tanned skin could provide and smoked over at the eyes.

To say I was in a good mood would have been an understatement. I had managed to avoid my brother for two days while he preoccupied himself elsewhere. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where he was – his own twitter pronouncing how happy he felt to ‘get away for a while’ and be around ‘such down to Earth people.’

A sly jab via social media could not put a damper on my mood – not even Lila herself could ruin it because not only was I sitting in hair and makeup; I was also sitting in Paris.

Kara messaged me only three hours before my arranged flight from Heathrow to the Charles de Gaulle of Paris, France; her text only short and simple – Car will pick you up in an hour. Flight to Paris for Vogue shoot at 8. K.

At first, having received the message at five in the morning, I was livid. Did she think it was funny to spring such information on me? Of course, I had thought, she must still be bothered by our disagreement at the café a few days earlier. And then, as I was stuffing sweaters and socks into the nearest bag I could find, muttering curse words and tripping over throw rugs in the dark, I realised something.

Paris.

I was going to Paris.

In all my nineteen years I had never been to France. And to think it was only a car drive away.

But, due to scheduling, it wasn’t a car that delivered me to the city of love. A very quick plane ride and two taxis later and I was on set, meeting the Vogue representatives and listening to Kara discuss the days agenda – the first photo shoot in the afternoon and then the second shoot, as well as follow up interview, the following morning, leaving half a day of France to myself before I was jetted back straight to London.

The woman behind me, who I had learned was called Melissa, started spraying a mist in my hair, followed by hairspray, before she let out a breath of what sounded like relief.

“All done, hon. I don’t want to toot my own horn, but...” She smiled, fixing a last strand into place.

“It looks fantastic, thank you.” I complimented, beaming at both my reflection and hers.

While we both admired her work, my phone began ringing in my lap, William’s name flashing on the screen.

Deciding it was best not to ignore his call considering we were in different countries, I prepared to answer as pleasantly as I could, however he beat me to a greeting.

“You’re in Paris?!”

I couldn’t hold the smile from my face, sadly. Neither Kara nor I had clued Will in to the Paris trip because, in all honesty, I didn’t want him there. After what he had said about me, not to mention straight to my face, I wasn’t sure Will deserved to roam the streets of France while I stared at a camera for hours on end.

“Hello William, how are you?”

Killing him with kindness was almost as satisfying as just plain killing him. I could hear his seethes from beneath my speaker, a rushing sound telling me he was walking somewhere.

“Why didn’t you call me? I call Kara and she tells me you two are in France! What the hell, Lucy? What are you doing?”

I stood from the chair and waved goodbye to Melissa, not sure I was happy for anyone to hear the conversation between my brother and I.

“I’m working, Will, what are you doing? Doesn’t sound like you’re working, does it?”

He spluttered for a moment, a door slamming in the background.

“Of course I’m not working; you didn’t call me to tell me about this trip! I’ve only just got home, why didn’t y—“

“Just got home? Gosh, I hope you weren’t out at Lila’s house – you know how that might look. Don’t want to look like a whore, do you?”

“Oh, shut up, Lucy.”

I smiled, “Sorry, I have to go - got a lot of work to take care of. You know, to pay for that flat you’re standing in. Bye!”

I ended the call before he could reply, satisfied whole heartedly with what I had said to him. I didn’t regret it in the slightest, he deserved to be told off and he deserved to be left out of the trip. I knew in my heart that a sixty second phone conversation wouldn’t calm the waters between Will and I, especially when I had retaliated almost as brashly as he had started it. I knew that once I was back in London I would be getting the silent treatment again or worse even - a confrontation.

I had never been a fan of conflict, in fact, I was much more the type to shy away from disagreement and let others speak louder than myself. Of course, it’s always different with siblings – for some reason they’re just easier to yell at – but I didn’t want to fight with William. I didn’t want any of it at the moment. Not the jabs or the insults; especially not Lila.

I couldn’t figure out her motive to set Will and I at each other’s throats. Days earlier I had overheard her tell my brother that she had told him so. So, she had been bad mouthing me for God only knows how long before an actual dispute had occurred.

Harry had told me that some people want nothing more than to stir up trouble and I wasn’t doubting that. Lila had stirred up trouble, and now I was left to clean up the mess that was my brother and I’s relationship.

I hadn’t told Harry I was in Paris, either. I hadn’t really told anyone. When Kara messaged me that morning the only thing I was concerned with was remembering to pack clean underwear as well as get food in my stomach. Now that I was settled with both my hair and makeup complete, I re-unlocked my phone and opened the messages shared between myself and the curly headed Brit and started typing.

‘Hello! You’ll never guess where I am!’

His reply was faster than I expected.

‘On your way over? :)’

I was glad no one was around to see the smile on my face – it may have looked deranged.

‘Nope... Paris! France! I’m doing some work here, everything is so pretty!’

‘Then you must fit right in! I love Paris, mum used to take Gem and I when we were kids. Have you seen the tower yet?’

I continued texting Harry throughout the day. When Kara came over to tell me the wardrobe department was ready for me, I was telling him about my plane ride. When I was ushered out onto a balcony overlooking the Paris skyline, he was telling me how happy he was to have the week off. And when I was finally walking into the hotel I was staying at, I told him all about my day while he told me about his, regardless of us having chatted throughout it.

Perched at the window seat of our hotel suite in the comfort of a complimentary bathrobe, I watched as Kara emerged from the bathroom and walked across to sit on the chair adjacent my position. We had spoken particularly professionally while in company and barely at all in private, yet now she looked as though she had something to say. I put my phone down and watched as she cleared her throat and smoothed out her skirt.

“Lucy, I’m sorry." She began," I’m sorry for interfering without consulting you and I’m sorry for what I said during breakfast.”

I’m sure my eyebrows were raised fairly high as she continued to apologise to me, her legs crossing over while her hands held together.

“It’s okay, Kara." I assured, despite thinking slightly otherwise. "I know you had good intentions when you called Syco. But, please talk to me before going all hardcore-manager again.” I laughed earnestly, seeing a smile hint on her face as well.

“I promise.” She said, “I just want to look out for you, and I’m not sure how appropriate the picture Harry put up was. His fans would get the wrong idea and God knows what kind of back lash you would get an—“

“Kara.” I stopped her, “Harry and I... well, we kind of... I like him. And he likes me.” It felt awfully strange to say it out loud; it almost felt like I was bragging. “So there probably will be backlash. But, I can deal with that.”

Kara looked momentarily surprised, before her managing instincts kicked in and she leant toward me as if this were a meeting.

“Are you sure you want that? You are at the peak of your career, Lucy. This could go either way but I’m sure you know which is more likely. Is it really worth it?”

I barely had to think before I answered yes. Yes, it was worth it. All the bad publicity in the world, all the hateful twitter mentions or blogs dedicated to disliking me couldn’t have me say otherwise.

“Yes, it is. So I need you to be on board."

Kara nodded absently for a moment, the gears in her head turning while I patiently waited.

"Of course, Lucy. But what has one Direction's team said? Surely they've had words with Harry about this?"

I looked back out the window across the Parisian lights and buildings, pondering Kara's words. Harry hadn't mentioned anything about his management, only ever when the picture he had posted of us on his Twitter was taken down. Was he speaking to his team like I was with mine? Did he have to? Maybe it wasn't necessary, maybe he could just date whoever he wanted.

But Harry and I weren't dating. So, maybe he hasn't bothered. Maybe he thought our minuscule relationship wasn't worth the trouble of a meeting or a phone call. Maybe he just didn't care...

Or maybe I was working myself up over nothing. I had a tendency to do that, I'd been told. But what else was I to think?

Kara was still watching me, her eyes narrowing more and more the longer I didn't answer her. I could feel the apples of my cheeks beginning to redden as they so often did.

"Um," I coughed, stalling pathetically. "We haven't really talked about it. I mean, we haven't put a label on it or anything..."

Kara gave me the look I knew she would - confused. I could tell exactly what she was thinking.

But why haven't you put a label on it? You like each other, don't you? You just said so yourself - he likes you and you like him. What are you waiting for?

Of course, Kara never said any of it but I could see it in her eyes, the way her head tilted as though perplexed.

Before she could reply I found myself standing, tightening the knot around my dressing robe and clearing my throat.

"I'm actually quite tired... I think I'll go to bed."

I walked away faster than necessary, nearly bumping into the coffee table on my way, and secured myself behind my bedroom's door.

Falling down onto the large four poster bed, I huffed. While Harry and I had seemed to have taken a step forward, it appeared my own thoughts had once again taken me ten steps back.