We'll Always Have Paris - A Harry Styles Fanfiction

Gabrielle Moreau is a 19-year old French girl living in Paris, the “capital of love”. To most people she looks ordinary, but behind her high-built façade hides a girl that suffers. She tries to shut the inferior sides of her life out by doing the things she loves and letting her thoughts circle around something elsewhere—and she succeeds in focusing on the good things in life flawlessly.
When Gabrielle an early morning gets a call from One Direction’s manager, who offers her the opportunity of working with them on their summer tour in Paris, she immediately replies him with a yes. She doesn’t know it just yet, but within the next few months she will get to grow a close bond to each of the boys in the band—and particularly one of them. Before she knows it, Gabrielle has been thrown into something she this time won’t be able to pull herself out of … Will she finally start opening herself up to someone and let them in without any conditions? **Check out the trailer in the right sidebar**

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48. Endings or beginnings

A/N: Next and final chapter of the book will be out this WEDNESDAY. Look out for it. xx

>>Gabrielle<<

 

The black tee hangs lonely on the empty clothing rack. With its simple, thin fabric and slim fit it does not look very abnormal, but to me it means more than the eyes shows. In this T-shirt, I've blown over France night after night with One Direction, filling their ears with our smooth pop-music. Tonight, I will wear it for the last time. The summer has gone by too fast. Memorizing it all won't be a trouble of mine...I clearly recall how I the first time I met the boys hadn't even known who they were, only able to recognize them when they had started discussing me and the matter of how I'd gotten into the building. I might not have been a fan back then, but those boys have certainly flipped everything upside down and changed my view of things.

They have to go home. I know that. Tomorrow morning at 11 o'clock the plane will be departing, taking them back to the UK. I understand why they need a break and why Paul say that they can't stay even just a day longer: They've been touring for almost three months now and they miss their families. Zayn and Louis hasn't seen Perrie and Eleanor since they left Paris 5 weeks ago, and rumors are that Liam has a thing going on with a girl called Sophia back in London. At some point, they have to leave...I guess I've known it all along without really realizing it. The thought has always been stuffed away and hid in the back of my mind. 

Now it's up close and coming towards me faster and more dangerous than a sports car speeding up towards me.

I grab the tee from its coat hanger and pull it over my head. The fabric feels soft against my skin, the scent of soap helping to clear my head. I adjust a bit on the shirt when I take a glance in the mirror behind me. My reflection is clean-cut in the glass, the lines of my frame standing out more as I look closer. My hands are twisting and turning in each other as they pick on my black nail polish while my eyes seem strangely darker than my ordinary brown color and my glooming strands of hair falling gracefully down my back. I look pretty.

If only you look away from the odd sense of vacancy radiating from my facial expression. 

"Gabrielle?" Somebody knocks on the door and smoothly lets it creak it open. When I spin around I see Paul's wide shoulders stand in the doorway. As he sees me, he pulls on a soft smile. "It's time."

I follow in Paul's footsteps out of my dressing room and out into the backstage area's hallway. Walking close behind his big body frame, he leads me to the point backstage from where we get on stage. The crowd just outside seems to be even louder than usual...maybe because tonight will be their last chance of seeing their favorite boyband live. I bet the stadium is stuffed out there. 

Looking to my left, I reckon the boys approaching me. Their expressions are mixed; Niall and Liam smiling while Louis, Harry and Zayn all look a bit cast-down. It's funny how their personalities reflect each other so well, but yet they manage to show themselves throughly: Liam and Niall are trying to look at the happier parts of tonight while the other boys think about how they don't want it to end.

Yes. Frankly, by now I can almost read their thoughts. 

We all line up beside each other and end up forming a team-circle embrace, arms put around each other's shoulders so that we're facing everyone in the circle. When I glance around our perfectly formed circle, the faces that has almost become family within the past months show; Louis, Liam, Niall, Zayn, Harry, Lou, Tom and baby Lux, Paul and Josh. Now, I can happily let myself grin alongside the others when I see that all of the boys are smiling widely.

"This is it, guys," Paul speaks loudly to all of us. "Last show of the summer." He puts his hand in the middle of the circle, and everyone quickly does the same. When I reach out my arm I can just fit into the bundle of sweaty palms. 

Paul grins at all of us. "Give it your all."

Then, we throw our hands up together in a last and final roar that echoes down the narrow hallway. 

 

 

 

At tonight's gig I do make sure to give it my all. Being a pianist as a job has learned me more than I had ever expected, and I'm showing off my skills as if it's the last day of my life I'll ever be able to play music. Everything about the show is making a rush of ecstasy run through my body; the crowd screaming so loudly that the unusual seems noiseless, the boy's acting out with each other and reaching more than ever out towards their fans. Even in Josh's drumming you can hear how he's feeling that tonight is special and that he has to do a more than an excellent job. 

With Liam taking the word, the band goes into the last song of the evening, of the tour, of the summer...and what not, but I don't want to think any much further.

He settles down at the front stage with his legs dangling over the edge. While the girls on the front row literally becomes nuts, he starts speaking, "We would like to dedicate this song to not alone all of you guys who came to see us this summer, but also to all the staff we've encountered while we've been here. It's been truly wonderful doing this tour and I think I speak for all of us, when I say that we wish our time here doesn't have to end. Sadly, it does." Liam moistens his lips and sends a dejected gaze at the ground. When he lifts his head again, he holds the mic a bit closer to his mouth and smiles half-hearted at the crowd. 

"Finally, we would also like to dedicate this tune to Gabrielle Moreau," he says. He tilts around to regard me. "We love you, babe." Making my heart skip a beat he turns back to the crowd and announces, "Here's 'Summer Love'."

I don't know why, but somehow the song ends up touching my heart in a way it probably shouldn't have. Noticing that the boys sing it with a much more earnest edge than they usually do, my mind completely falls apart. The boys are singing the song directly to me. I'm not the only one thinking this...I can see it in the faces of the fans, too.

"'Cause you were mine for the summer
Now we know it's nearly over
Feels like snow in September
But I always will remember
You were my summer love
You always will be my summer love...

So when the music finally stops playing and the crowd has left the arena and everyone has said their goodbyes and gone backstage, I rush off.

 

 

 

 

Letting the leather bag slip from my shoulder and thump to the ground, I wearily push my room door close behind me. Nobody is home, yet I anyway seem to be alarmed. Night-time to me always seems to be the same as quiet-time, which means that you in you're own house also have to stay hushed. Even if you're feeling as miserable as you haven't felt in years.  

I slip off my beige trench coat, soaked from the rain, and approach my bed on trembling feet. I flop down in the foot of it and gather my hands in my thighs, cupping them as I swing my legs up into the bed. Feeling the softness of the quilt beneath me is strangely soothing. 

My calmness does not last for long, though; before I know it, tears are rushing down my face and dripping from my chin down onto the red sheets, making the drops look as dark and scarlet as blood. I don't know why this happens--it just does. Maybe it's because I throughout the past few days have recalled too many memories of the summer and thought too much of how it's soon going to be over. 

Tomorrow morning, they are leaving. My boys, my comedians, my saviors, my best friends whom I can always count on and lean on when I'm not feeling strong. Or, according to my clock, 11 hours and 52 minutes.  

And what is there I can do about it? Nothing. There's no solutions. None.

My dad lives in Paris. My mother is hospitalized here. I can't leave my family, it's simply as impossible as the earth being as flat as a pancake. They need me. 

Or do they?

I embrace myself and try to shut everything out, but as always I'm unsuccessful. The tears are providing me with a headache, but the drops keeps forming in my eyes. All there's left to do is to wait for myself to calm down.

Then completely out of the blue, I feel a pair of arms slipping around my trembling body. Their warmth are more than known to me, their muscular tattooed biceps and their tanned skin so familiar that I don't even have to glance up to know who's holding me. 

I curl up against Harry and he draws me closer into his arms. Gently he whispers a few soothing words in my ear, but he doesn't take it any further and begin to ask questions. 

He lifts my body from the seat beside him and place me on his lap, my legs lying across the duvet as I slip my arms around his torso. My head digs into his shoulder as another sob goes through my body.

"Shh, babe." He rubs small circles on my back and holds me closer. "It's gonna be all right."

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