The Love Club

I can’t decide if I love or hate this place. I wonder if Harry feels the same.

There’s something to be said of L.A., the way everyone becomes enamored with it. There are plenty of admirable things about it: the weather, the views, the shopping, the dining. I like the architecture and the melting pot of cultures it has become. I like the complexity of the city and the variance of people and personality types. I like In-N-Out burger.

But it’s dirty and poverty ridden. People turn their noses up at the homeless and there are street performers who are too young to be living such a difficult lifestyle. The air is thick and the city smells of hot garbage and gas fumes. The magic of Hollywood is ruined once you’ve seen it, and worse, there’s always a friend of a friend who heard from the neighbor of a movie star that they’re cheating on their significant other. It’s all smoke and mirrors.

I try my best to keep my attitude positive as I stick close to Glenne’s side, feet heavy on the stars of directors and musicians honored on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. I keep trying to peer down to read the names, but we’re moving too fast and the street is too crowded. A few times, Glenne has offered to take my photo at various historic locations, but I’ve declined. A photo alone seems sort of pathetic.

At least the company isn’t bad. Glenne has taken an immediate liking to me, though I’m not entirely sure why. Whatever intel she has from Jeff or Harry must be positive, which is a good sign. She tells me about working for a talent agency and how she met Jeff. She fills in small details of her life, like the general area in which she lives and her favorite places for gyros or home decor. It’s a mindless chatter that feels like a reprieve after too many days with Harry. I don’t realize until I’m alone that I’ve been stressed about things between us, how they’re developing. There’s a tension that has been going unnoticed, mostly due to how much time we’ve been spending together. It’s like a breath of fresh air to be away.

It occurs to me that we’re going about this all backward. We’re spending far too much time together for this to be healthy, but simultaneously I don’t want to back away. With Harry being who he is and with the career he has, it’s an all or nothing situation. I’d rather be giving too much than too little, but I also know things between us are far from normal. He’s an international popstar with an endless schedule and I’m a matchmaker who happens to know the soulmates of everyone I meet when I stumble across them; there’s nothing about this that will ever be considered “normal”.

I must be completely lost in these thoughts because Glenne laughs at me as she snaps her fingers in front of my face. I look over at her, a blush creeping up my face.

“Jeff tells me I’m boring all the time, but I didn’t think he was actually right,” she jokes.

“No, no. You’re fine. I’m sorry, I’m just out of it today.”

“Things have been pretty crazy for you. It’s understandable.”

I smile a thanks to her and she tucks a strand of flyaway hair behind her ear as we plunge forward through the crowd, past the Chinese Theater. I don’t know where we’re going exactly, but I enjoy being out and doing something. I like the feel of the sun on my arms and the dull ache in my feet from the numbing shoes I’m wearing. I should invest in a pair of Nike’s if this walking thing is going to become a habit for me.

There are an endless amount of stoplights in the street ahead and the crowd of people seems just as infinite. I don’t mind; it’s nice to be immersed in a sea of faces and bodies, anonymously strolling the streets of a foreign city. It’s a feeling that’s new to me, but quickly becoming one of my favorites.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Harry, and I understand why. He’s great and he really likes you. You two seem like you’re really good for each other and it’s the honeymoon phase and all that, but are you doing okay with everything?”

“How do you mean?” I ask, furrowing my brows together.

“I just mean that I’m sure your life is drastically different now, is all. As opposed to life before you went on tour and how you’re living today. That adjustment can be tough.”

I take a moment to ponder over this. Everyone keeps telling me how I haven’t been thrust into the thick of things yet, that everything will change once I’m exposed to the negative aspects of Harry’s life. I’m certain that paparazzi and fans won’t change anything about how I feel about him, or what in my gut I know to be true about us.

Still, I haven’t taken the time to really think about how much of my life has changed already. When I compare my life now to how I had been living before Niall stormed into my apartment, pet my cat, and invited me to join the circus, there are more differences than there are similarities. I’ve been so distracted by the whirlwind that I haven’t really noticed.

So how am I doing? It’s a question I haven’t really asked myself.

“I dunno,” I finally admit after a few moments. “I guess it was a welcomed change. I wasn’t really doing anything except working and when I joined the tour, I found a new appreciation for travel and exploration. I’m still just as busy as when I was working, I guess, but I’m finding out more about myself.”

“How so?”

“I’m trying new things, getting out of my comfort zone. Harry sort of pulled me out of my shell and it’s like a whole new world. It’s nice. An adjustment, but not bad.”

“That’s good, then,” Glenne nods approvingly, but her eyes won’t meet mine. “I mean, that’s how relationships should be. It’s about finding yourself but also working with someone else to be better as a whole. It’s just this bubble you two are in that has me concerned. From past experience I can also say it’s not so healthy to build a world around someone. But it’s really none of my business.”

I don’t make a response, mostly because I’m lost in thought. I see what she’s saying and it makes sense. On the other hand, the way Harry and I are developing probably has a lot to do with the whole soulmates thing. I may have the advantage of certainty when it comes to us, but I think sometimes that Harry can sense it in a more subtle way. Sometimes I wonder if he knows, with the way his eyes light up when he smiles at me or the soft way his hands brush over my skin. Things are different here, and we’re settling in fast, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Maybe if it wasn’t meant to be, but I know that’s not true.

“I hope I didn’t offend you,” Glenne finally mutters. “Sometimes I don’t know when to shut up.”

“You didn’t. I’m just thinking.”

“Good,” she sighs as she grabs my hand. I’ve been headed in the wrong direction and she’s taking a turn. I’m momentarily confused before I see a tourist trap of a store. “I’d hate to think I was the one who scared you off.”

“You just might if you plan on taking me in there,” I tell her, eyeing the building warily.

“Oh, come on. It’s a tradition. We’ll get you an airbrushed tank top with ‘Mina and Glenne BFFs Fo Lyfe’ on it or something equally as stupid. Maybe an Oscar paperweight.”

I don’t argue, mostly because her grip on my arm is strong and I know if I tried to get away, she’d just chase me. Glenne is open and easy to get along in that respect, but I’ve always been sort of vexed by the type of people who are agreeable to everyone. I’ve always had to work so hard at getting people to trust and like me, I envy those who have the natural talent.

The store is comparatively dark. In the sunlight, I’ve had glasses resting on the bridge of my nose, eyes squinted. Here, I push the glasses up into my hair and breathe out a sigh. I wonder how red my face is from the rays of the sun, if I’ll be sunburned. I hope not. I have the feeling Harry would have too much fun if I were.

Glenne disappears into the masses and I decide to make the most of the situation by scanning a few shelves with various cheesy picture frames. There are shot glasses and baby clothes with Hollywood printed on the tummies. Racks and racks of shirts make up most of the store, with hats and hoodie displays lining the walls. They’re playing Katy Perry six notches too high on the volume and even if I were to call after her, Glenne wouldn’t hear me.

I busy myself by sorting through some of the discounted shirts, most of them misprints or otherwised slightly damaged to the point of sale. There’s a damaged Pink Floyd shirt that brings a smile to my face just because it reminds me of The Beatles one Harry bought me from a stall in Rio.

When my phone begins to ring in my pocket, I smile to myself and think he must know. My caller ID, however, has different ideas. My smile fades, but doesn’t disappear. It’s an unexpected call, but I’m happy to take it. When I scan the store and still don’t see a sign from Glenne, I push the sunglasses back down over my eyes and step back outside into the sunlight. There’s no way I’ll be able to talk with Katy Perry belting in my ears.

“Hey,” I greet easily as I raise the phone to my ear.

“I’m on my way to L.A.,” Tinley blurts.

“What?” I ask, furrowing my brow as I turn up the volume to make sure I’ve heard her right.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I wasn’t going to, but then Niall really wanted me to, and I probably shouldn’t be taking this much time off work but also screw it. How many girls get to travel the world and follow a dude in a boyband?”

“He’s just a dude in a boyband?” I ask skeptically.

“Shut up, don’t be weird about it. Things are going well, but let’s not push it.”

I can’t help but grin. I’ve missed Tinley and I’m happy to hear she’ll be in town, but suddenly I pause.

“Wait, Niall’s in L.A.?”

“The guys have a meeting with management, I think. Some weird last minute thing they scheduled, so everyone is headed that way. You’re just ahead of the game.”

“Oh,” I say, all other words failing me. “Well that’s good, I guess. I might be able to see all of you.”

“Niall’s set on a lad’s night out on the town, but I think he wants us to come, too. I think he thinks if there’s a bunch of people there that maybe the paparazzi will be a little more tame about pairing people off and starting rumors? Not that they’re true, but... I’m rambling. I’m just nervous when I’m getting on planes and I’m about to get on one and I’ve never been to America. I’m sorry. You’re probably busy. Are you with Harry? You’re probably with Harry. Tell him I say hi, I’ll see you guys soon.”

“Take a breath,” I chuckle into the phone. “It sounds like Niall knows what he’s talking about. I could use a night out, actually. I think I’m starting to get cabin fever, and it’s good to have human contact aside from Harry, I’m learning.”

“I’m sure he’s driving you nuts.”

“Nah, he’s fine. I just miss everyone. I’m excited to see you all again. We should definitely celebrate with a night out. And I’m not with Harry right now, but I’ll send him your love when I see him tonight.”

“Love’s a bit strong of a word coming from me. Maybe you’d like to try it out, but not really my style.”

“Stop,” I roll my eyes.

“You move fast!”

“Unusual circumstances! And coming from the girl who snogged Niall for an entire four hour flight, I think that’s rich!”

She’s launched into a rant, but I’m not paying attention. Feeling a tap on my shoulder, I turn to see Glenne with two bags in her hands. She thrusts one toward me and I catch it before gravity takes over and it falls to the ground. Slightly startled, I adjust the phone on my ear and cut Tinley off, promising to see her soon before hanging up. Her flight is leaving in fifteen minutes regardless and I’m certain I’ve heard the flight attendant request her to turn it off at least three times already.

“What is this?” I ask Glenne, peering into the bag. The scent that overwhelms me makes the answer obvious, but I gag harder when I realize there are two shirts in there.

“Please for the love of God don’t tell me...”

“I got this sweet print for me and Jeff. It says ‘I’m with stupid’ and Jeff’s says ‘I’m stupid’. Honestly, it’s like they designed it with us in mind. And I couldn’t leave you and Harry in the dust...”

“Jesus,” I breathe, hesitantly pulling out the pair of shirts.

“Mine was an obvious choice, but yours was a little more difficult. I thought I’d throw the poor airbrush artist a bone and have him do something more creative, maybe a little less cheesy, though I suppose couples shirts are inherently awful...”

I stare at the tee shirts blankly, taking in the details. An overlarge playing card is printed on each of them with our names airbrushed in. A king and queen of hearts. I want to gag. I want to laugh, because there’s irony here somewhere but I’m not sure where.

“Baller, right?” Glenne asks.

I don’t deem that worthy of a response as I roll my eyes and tuck them back in the bag. She huffs like she’s offput by my lack of response, but I’m secretly amused.

“Harry will be much more appreciative, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure,” I agree with a grin in her direction. She smiles back and puts an arm around my shoulders, her bag hitting me in the side heavily.

“It’s getting late, I need to get home. I’ll drive you back,” she says, and I only nod in agreement, following her down the road in the direction of the parking garage with her arm around my shoulders all the way.

-

“Do you know the code?” Glenne checks as I step out of her car at the end of Harry’s driveway.

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” I assure her as I shut the door softly behind me. She’s leaning over the center console and offers me a warm smile. “Next time I see you, you’d better be wearing those,” she jokes, gesturing to the bag.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” I reply with a laugh, and she only shakes her head and rolls up her window again before pulling away. I’m still smiling to myself as I enter the code into the keypad to be let in. The garage door parts slowly and I walk through, running a hand through my hair.

The house is dark and I falter in my steps for a moment, wondering if Harry is home. As far as I know, he was having some more people over this afternoon, and I’d been mentally preparing myself all day to meet more of his friends. Now, I wonder if he chose to go out instead. As I walk, I pull out my phone to check, but I don’t have any messages. When I try the front door, it’s unlocked already, so I step inside absently as I tuck my phone back in my pocket and shut it with my back. When I look up, I freeze.

“What’s that?” Harry asks calmly, gesturing to the bag in my hands with a glass of red wine, as if he isn’t surrounded by candles and a three course meal isn’t laid out on the dining room table. He’s wearing a white button down shirt, open to his stomach in typical fashion, and a pair of dark skinny jeans I’m almost certain has made an appearance at the VMAs. His lips are tinted dark red from the wine and his hair is falling in that ungodly manner it sometimes does when it’s least convenient for me to run my hands through it. My heart leaps to my throat.

“What’s this?” I retort, letting the bag fall to the ground with a soft thud.

“Well,” he begins, standing from where he’s been perched on the arm of the couch. He holds another long-stemmed glass in his hand and offers it to me. I take it hesitantly, eyes still darting around the room at the embarrassing yet endearing setup I’ve just stumbled upon. I ignore the former and cling to the latter.

“Aside from Paris, it dawns on me that you and I haven’t really had a proper date. Which is odd, since you’re apparently my girlfriend or something,” he tells me with a slight smirk.

“Semantics,” I say, waving a hand in the air.

“Right, yeah. Anyway, Paris might not technically count because I tricked you into coming and also we were drunk police for Niall and Tinley most of the evening,” he trails off, wetting his lips before he continues. When my eyes meet his, they’re soft and apologetic. “And I was sort of mean to you last night. It was uncalled for, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.”

I set my wine down on the edge of the dining room table we’re standing at now and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him to me in a hug. His arms fold around my torso and squeeze me to him.

“Please always apologize like this,” I say, and I can not only hear the soft rumble of his chuckle, but feel the way it builds in his chest where it’s pressed to mine. I smile into the crook of his neck before pulling away to look at him. He leans down and presses a firm kiss to my lips that we’re both smiling into.

“I hope you’re hungry, because this is a lot of food,” he finally murmurs against my mouth when he’s finished.

“Did you make this?” I ask, twisting in his arms to survey the spread.

“God, no. I’m good, but not that good. I hired caterers.”

I slap him hard on the side and he only rolls his eyes as he pulls out a chair for me.

“You didn’t need to hire caterers, you freak. I’m good with saltine crackers and canned cheese.”

“Exquisite taste you have, Miss Underhill,” he tells me sarcastically as he plops into his own chair beside me. “Nothing says romance like sprayable cheddar.”

“And saltine crackers,” I remind him.

He smiles, side-eyeing me, but doesn’t deem that worthy of a response. He’s too busy arranging silverware and I quietly watch the way his hands work.

“I thought since it’s not wise of us to go out alone that I’d bring the restaurant here,” he explains quietly. “And I know seafood is your favorite, but I brought you salmon last night, so I hope you like steak.”

“I do,” I confirm.

“Good, I couldn’t remember if I’d seen you eat it at any point while we were on tour.”

I spread my napkin over my lap and get to work with the salad on the plate before me. Around a mouthful of salad, Harry says, “You didn’t tell me what’s in the bag.”

“Nothing. Garbage,” I respond.

Harry frowns, giving me a look. I sigh, knowing he’s not going to let it go until I sate his curiousity. I’m still not thrilled about telling him, probably because I know his dorky side will be enthusiastic.

“Glenne bought us couples shirts.”

Harry’s eyes light up and I suppress a groan.

“Sweet. We should put them on.”

“I hate you,” I tell him bitterly as I put a forkful of salad in my mouth.

“Do you?” he muses casually.

“Yep.”

“What about me in particular?”

“Your eyes are stupid.”

“Mmm.”

“You never button your shirts and your boots are five years out of style.”

“Continue.”

I can’t help the smile as I work at a grape tomato, trying to get it on my fork. Before I can manage it, Harry’s fingers are in my plate and I watch in stark horror.

“I hate that you do that!” I cry in earnest. “Germs!”

Harry’s laughing, unapologetic as he chews.

“I hate that your eyes crinkle when you laugh.”

“You do?” he asks, once he’s swallowed.

“Yeah, it’s dumb,” I grumble.

“Anything else?”

“How long have you got?” I ask, and he’s laughing again. I love everything about this, especially being the one to make him laugh. I like the high I get just being near him, like an addiction I can’t ever fully get my fix on. I could sit here and watch him do nothing all day and be happy with just that. Despite how clumsy he is, he moves with a certain grace as well. Your eyes can’t help but be transfixed.

“What do our couples shirts say on it?” he asks once we’ve settled into a comfortable silence. He’s already finished his salad, but I’m taking my time with mine.

“It’s really embarrassing and I want you to know I had nothing to do with it.”

“Yeah, I know. You don’t like fun.”

“Hey!” I pout, kicking him in the shin. He doesn’t even bother to try to look put off. Shrugging, he takes a long sip of his wine, gaze flickering over to me.

“They’re playing cards. King and queen of hearts with our names airbrushed on,” I answer his original question.

“Fitting,” he grins.

I suppose it is, but I don’t say so. With my particular talent and his hordes of teenage girls fawning over him, I’ve found the irony but haven’t done anything with it quite yet.

“What did you do today?” I change the subject as I finally finish up my salad and set my plate out of the way. Harry passes me my steak and I thank him with a smile.

“I had an early tee time with some friends. Then I realized there was a startling lack of mood lighting in my house and I had to go out and buy some candles. Between that and checking in with the caterers, I haven’t done much of anything, really. It’s nice. I like it,” he shrugged. He lifts a piece of meat to his mouth and chews before asking, “How was your day?”

“It was pretty fun. Glenne took me to Hollywood Boulevard to see all that insanity. Earlier we grabbed lunch at In-N-Out. Went into a few boutiques, but I didn’t see anything I particularly liked. Got a picture of the Hollywood sign from afar.”

“We’ll have to hike it sometime. It’s fun,” Harry comments, then chuckles when he sees my nose wrinkle in distaste.

“Do you really want to do physical activity of any sort with me after last time?” I question.

“Maybe not the running, but I’m sure we could get creative,” he responds immediately with a wink, and I choke on the bite of baked potato I’ve just taken. Harry smirks. “There’s that blush I love so much.”

I’m not quite sure how to recover from that, so I choose to take a long drag from my wine glass and ignore it. After a few moments of Harry’s amused silence, I think maybe it’s gone away. It’s just as I’m about to cut another piece of steak that Harry casually asks, “Are you a virgin?”

Flustered, I blurt out, “Is that your business?”

“As a potential sexual partner, probably,” he replies easily, but there’s a gentleness to his voice. “But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not exactly dinner conversation,” I inform him.

“Suppose not,” he agrees.

I channel my energy into sawing off a piece of the steak and lifting it to my mouth. Unwillingly, my eyes flicker over to him where he’s just as intently focused on his meal. My heart softens. As much as I know he likes to see me flustered, I also know he doesn’t particularly enjoy making me feel uncomfortable.

“Yes,” I finally say aloud, and though I’m not looking at him, his brows furrow when his eyes dart to me. “My virginity was not really something I ever actively persued getting rid of.”

“Why not?”

I shrug, forcing myself to meet his gaze. The subject isn’t one I’m particularly comfortable with in and of itself, but I know I’m safe with Harry. I can trust him.

“Before tour I was all about work. I like structure and schedules and helping people connect, but I didn’t want to make any of those connections myself. I wasn’t particularly outgoing or social, I avoided going out unless it was on business errands or for groceries. Sometimes I’d hang out with Duncan, but only out of obligation. The opportunity never fell in my lap, so I didn’t persue it. I was focused on other things.”

I offer him a soft smile before returning back to my plate once it’s apparent Harry isn’t going to make an immediate reply. Reaching for my wine glass, I take a sip and run a hand through my hair, a nervous habit I can’t refrain from carrying out. My eyes dart around the room to the candles, strategically placed for optimum lighting. I think maybe Harry’s a little neurotic, too, but maybe to a lesser degree. We balance each other out.

“Why me?” he finally asks, and I turn my head to look at him again. He has that thoughtful look he sometimes gets, his soft green eyes scanning my face as his irises move back and forth, gaze steady.

“Why you what?”

“Why did you choose me to be the one you let in?”

I swallow thickly, unable to break this eye contact. There are so many things I could say to him, and every single one of them would be honest. Because he was so persistent. Because he was kind. Because he saw who I was when everyone else saw me as a means to an end. Because my heart latched to his and refused to let go, even when I tried to wrench them apart. Because even when I thought I wasn’t meant for him, I knew he was the only one who was meant for me. But instead of saying any of these things, I try to find the simplest yet most truthful answer.

“I chose you because it never felt like a choice.”

I anticipate the taste of his mouth moments before he presses it to mine.