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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6. Private French lesson at McDonalds

 

 

I finish off the last note in “I Want” with a weary push on the by now pretty used keyboard keys. The music sheet to the song are placed right in front of my eyes, but I’m sure I won’t need it anymore: Throughout the last hour we have practiced the music and ran through the song for what feels like a hundred times, and therefore I am convinced that I now can play it freely without even looking at the papers a single time.

“That was the last one, guys!” the light and slightly raspy voice of the sound check team’s leader, Tim, calls out. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning!” And with those words we are off from work—knackered from the past four hours rehearsals of the show, but feeling great and refreshed from the energy that arises when you are on-stage and doing the thing you love the most.

Sloppily I grab the music sheet off the music rack in front of me, almost knocking them down on the floor with my slipshod hand gesture. I rise from the piano chair and back away towards Harry and Liam who is standing in their own corner of the stage, chatting about something and in the process of turning off their microphones.

“Hey—” I start out, but am cut off when something knocks me down to the ground, punching the breath out of me. When I look up to find the person laying on top of me, the first thing I see is a couple of nice blue eyes and strands of blonde hair.

“Oh, sorry. I was going to do a surprise piggy bag on Harry. You look a bit like him from behind!” Niall says whilst climbing off me and rising to his feet. I regain my balance and put a hand to my throbbing head as I stand up. Trying not to glare too much at him, I make a hurtful grimace.

“What a nice thing to say to a girl, Nialler,” Liam notes from beside me, the sarcasm dripping in his voice. I point at him, still wearing the painful frown on my face: “What he said.”

I notice Louis and Zayn approach us from behind, their faces filled with a surplus of energy. Unlike me, they certainly are used to long and sweaty rehearsals like this.

“Now I understand why you always have a throng of screaming teenage girls behind you,” I blurt out, completely out of nowhere.

“I know,” Louis cockily says and smiles genuinely at me. “We’re hot.”

I roll my eyes at him and giggle. I’ve known him for less than a day and I'm already aware of one of his biggest characteristics: How overconfident he can be at times. “No, not that,” I beam. “You just sing like a dream.”

They all exclude a sweet, but loud awe when they hear my comment. “Oh, stop it you!” Louis bawls.

“Hey,” Niall says and pokes Harry’s arm with his one index finger. “I want to go to Nando’s.”

“What?” Harry exclaims and pulls a clearly dumbfounded face. “How can you already be hungry?”

“He’s always hungry,” Zayn tells me; I guess he thought I didn’t know about that fact, but throughout the day I have observed it by myself … Niall is hungry pretty much all of time.

“Um, nothing to say, Niall,” I note and glance at him. “But there’s no Nando’s in Paris. At least not any I know about.” I can’t help but laugh when I see the sad expression on his face.

“What?” he complains with a large pout. “I can’t have Nando’s for a whole summer?!”

Liam understandingly pads his back. “You’ll be all right mate,” he tells him with a smile on his face. “You’ll be all right.”

“Okay, then,” Niall sighs and with a deep breath pulls himself together. “At least tell me you have McDonalds?”

“Of course,” I smile. “It’s Paris. We have more than you know of—just not Nando’s.”

“Right. Let’s go then.” Throwing out his arms and running off the stage, he yells: “To McDonalds!” Whilst Niall runs on, I look at the other boys with a questioning glimpse in my eyes: “So are you asking me to grab a bite with you?”

“No,” Louis says and slids his arm in between mine, beginning to walk with me after Niall. “We’re taking you out for dinner because we don’t know a thing about this city. You, as a Parisian, should know pretty much everything about it. Oh, and we also have to get to know you better since you know have to stand being in our presence for the next ten weeks.”

“You know, I could take you guys eating at a much more exciting place than a fast-food chain.”

“Yeah, you probably could. But Niall is in the mood for unhealthy food—and you are more than welcome if you want to give it a try and convince him not to.”

“I’d rather not.”

 

 

 

I watch as Niall recklessly pushes his way through the line up to the cash register, where Liam and I are already standing. We are just about to order for everyone, when he begs for Liam’s attention and pads him on his shoulder. “Now that we’re in France,” he heavily breathes, “I think you should give your order in French.”

“Um, sure thing Nialler…” Liam slowly speaks. “But you must have forgotten that I don’t speak French.”

“But I do!”

“No you don’t.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But we always have Google Translate.” He pulls out his phone from one of his pant’s pockets and enters the translating website. He then types in a few words and hands it to Liam, ushering him to start ordering by using the French words on the display.

“Puis-je s'il vous plait…”

When I hear Liam’s bad pronunciation of the foreign language I have to stop myself from laughing. It's no wonder that the McDonalds worker in front of us is wearing an uncomprehending frown; no native French speaker will be able to understand what Liam is trying to say. It doesn’t make things any better that Google Translate always complicates a sentence much more than the necessary. The message you want to get out always gets longer and so much more confusing.

“No, it’s more like ‘Puis-je s’il vous plait—” Niall corrects Liam without realizing that he actually is saying it worse than his friend. His accent is way too Spanish for a Frenchman to understand. I roll my eyes at their weak try of speaking French before snapping the phone out of Niall’s hands and waving them a bit off to the side.

“I’ll take it from here,” I tell them and turn to the worker in front of me to order. “Six hamburgers avec des frites et soude s'il vous plait.” The worker smiles at me and turns around to get the order prepared for us. When I glance back at Liam and Niall they are gaping like they don’t believe their own ears.

“How’d you do that?” Niall curiously asks me. I shrug my shoulders and reply him with a short and simple, “I’m pro.”

When the food gets delivered we immediately grab the trays and hurry with them to our table in the other end of the restaurant. In the exact moment we settle down beside Louis, Harry and Zayn, Liam gestures towards me and blurts out the words: “This girl is sick. She just ordered the food in French and she didn’t have any trouble in doing it. She’s mad.”

Niall leans a bit forward from the other side of the table. “Are you French or something?”

“Uh, yeah,” I say and glance individually at all of them. At first they stare back at me like they’re not believing a word of what I'm saying, but then their expressions change by the slightest.

“Wait, you didn’t know?” I confusedly ask them. They all shake their heads at me as an answer.

“No. You just presented yourself as Gabrielle and judging by your amazing English I guess we all thought you were British,” Harry tells me with a charming smirk. I take a sip of my coke and cross my legs under the table as I nod towards him. “Well, thank you for the compliment.”

“You’re welcome, love,” he smiles at me, a couple of amazingly cute dimples showing in his cheeks.

“How come you’re so good at English?” Louis asks me. “Most Frenchmen can’t speak an as flawless English as you.”

“My family had an au pair when I was younger. She was from England and therefore I learned to speak a good and fluently English even before I was 10,” I tell him with a small smile on my lips. Every time I think of our old maid Keira, I can’t help but feel happy. She was fantastic and I had throughout the years she had been with us experienced so many great things with her and gotten so many unforgettable moments to remember. Sadly she had gone back home to England when I was 12, but because of the close bond we had developed she would occasionally return to Paris for a few weeks to stay with us.

“Tell me, where exactly was your au pair from?” Louis asks me.

“Bradford, if I remember correctly.”

“Well that explains the accent,” he silently laughs.

Zayn harshly nudges his friend, obviously feeling a bit offended. “I have never commented on your accent,” he pouts.

Louis slips an arm around his shoulders and pads his back. “Sorry mate,” he says, but still snickers on.

We start to eat, the boys shoving the food so fast and unlovely into their mouths that you could have believed they are animals. Whilst I’m eating my food in a nice and slow pace I growl, “How can your girlfriends stand to eat in your presence? You eat like pigs.”

“Oh, we don’t even have to worry about that,” Niall says and points at himself and Harry. “Being single is life, right?” he declares.

“Oh, just stop it already,” Louis says and rolls his eyes at them. “We all know that you both would like to have a girlfriend if you met the right bird.”

Niall stares down at the table in a try to hide his blushing cheeks. “Yea, I probably would.”

“I think I would, too,” Harrys says and smiles a shy but yet secure smile. I quickly seem to notice something about his cute gesture … and the thing about it that catches my attention is whom it’s heading towards.

Me. 

 

A/N: 

Hey guys! :3

Remember to "like" the story if you obviously like it so far. I'd love to get some more feedback and a few more readers, and I will only make progress if more people see the story - therefore, I need a few more likes...I love y'all! ;) xo

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