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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13. Pianist debut

 

>>Gabrielle<<

 

The faint roars from the crowd of fans are making echoes resonate inside my head like a shout through a long, dark tunnel. I try not to let myself get lost in the screams and dragged away by the loud fuss as I tilt my head towards Harry, who’s standing right beside me, so close that I am almost able to perceive his calm breathing on my neck. The soft, black cotton-fabric of his shirt brushes against my bare skin as I take his hand in mine. When he feels the tender touch of my fingertips grasping for his hand, he sends a warm gaze in my direction along with a small, affectionate smile.   

It’s the opening night of the boys'  summer tour and even though my chest is inflated with excitement of getting to play in front of a crowd as big as this, I’m standing on a knife-edge of feeling deadly anxious. What if I in the middle of everything mess up?

So, I try to hold onto the last sedate moment before the show opens by sharing it with the company of Harry by my side. Somehow his calmness about performing manages to cool my nerves down.

I try to forget all of the stressful actions surrounding me, but after shooting a look at the clock on the wall above my head, I realize that I can’t overlook the time any much longer. Just outside a few of the thick, white brick walls is an loud audience of teenage girls only waiting to see one certain boy band play their music live in concert.

“I have to go,” I tell Harry, knowing that I as a part of the band will have to get on stage five minutes before him and the other boys. I take a step away from him, but quickly get dragged back to the place I left when he pulls me back towards him.

“Does it have to be now?” he complains with a vexed frown on his forehead.

“I’m afraid it does. And it has to be now—before I get fired.”

“Oh, we can’t have that,” he says with a roguishly smile and takes my head in his hands to lean in and kiss me. “I’ll see you afterwards, okay?” I nod at him before I reluctantly and slowly start to let go of his hand. Soon only our fingertips are touching and at last I’m clinging onto nothing but the air. He grins when I send an overdramatized pout in his direction and turn away from him, wiping a fake tear off my cheek. Then I exit the room and walk out towards the arena.

When I get onto the stage, the amount of people staring at me gives me a smart heart attack. I knew the arena could house thousands of people, but never had I ever imagined so many to be in the same place this evening. It's pure insanity.

The screams from the crowd of teenage girls are ringing in my ears as I walk to my own, personal spot and settle down at my piano. I have barely even caught my breath before a couple of sliding doors behind me opens up for the crowd and a man’s deep, commentating voice speaks out two words in a thick French accent over the stereo:  “One Direction!”

 

 

 

“Sweetheart, you did amazing!” my dad tells me once he’s gotten away from the crowd after the concert and made his way backstage to meet up with me. I pull him in for a warm hug and whisper a low thank you into his chest. “No,” he says and plants a soft kiss on my hair. “I’m the one who should be thanking you; for giving me the opportunity to see you out there doing what you love.”

A loud, clinging metallic noise from behind me makes me break out of the hug and spin around to see what caused the chaos. I quickly detect Niall lying on the floor beside a toppled metal trashcan, now covered in bits of bread crumbles and finished apple cores. A second later the boys shows themselves in the doorway behind him. When they see him lying on the floor after his clumsy stunt, they all break out laughing. Even though my dad is standing right beside me, I can’t hesitate but to let out a silent snicker too.

Niall gets up from the floor and confidently brushes the bread crumbles off his clothes like nothing has ever happened to him. Something tells me that his fall hasn’t hurt his pride by the slightest. “Who’s this?” he points out as he walks towards us, clearly referring to my dad. I glance behind Niall and wave the other boys towards us.

“Boys, this is my dad,” I say when they’ve approached us. “Dad, I hereby present you to One Direction.” My dad let out an amused chuckle. “So this is the famous boy band she’s been talking about!” he says with a smile, making me winch back in awkwardness. I haven’t mentioned the boys to him more than a few times…and all of these has been within the last week and a half I have known them.

“Oh, she has?” Louis exclaims, sincerely interested in the subject.

I let out a low sigh. This conversation is definitely not going to turn out the way I want it to.

Whilst my dad starts chatting with the boys, I notice the cheeky grin Harry keeps sending towards me. By the promising mischievous twinkle in his eyes I’m sure that he’s up to no good. He sends a single stare towards my dad before looking back at me, and then I realize what he’s up to.

I mouth the words “no!” to him, but he doesn’t seem to notice them. He wouldn’t do this to me, would he? Not now.

I decide to shut his mouth before he gets to tell my dad the—right in this moment—most unwanted thing: That Harry and I are dating.

“Dad!” I burst out of nowhere, maybe a little louder than I had wanted to in the first place. “I think it’s probably time for us to get home. You've got work tomorrow morning and I'm feeling completely knackered.” He quickly agrees and we say our goodbyes to the boys. For good measure I send a glare in Harry’s direction as we turn around to walk away. I'm not mad at him, but maybe now he knows how close he's been to stepping over the line. It is actually incredible how he can make me that anxious just by one empty and unspoken threat.

“They’re all really nice,” my dad tells me as we walk away from the boys, towards the backstage's exit. “Especially that Harry-boy is charming, I think.”

“Yeah, he is,” I say with a small but genuine smile on my lips. I want to disagree with him, but after all I can’t. If only he knew how that charm has gotten to me…how it has affected me ever since he first showed the slightest interest in getting to know me.

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