Take Me Away

Brielle Kidd always wanted to be an actress. Travelling from her hometown close to Paris, to London to persue multiple auditions, Brielle suddenly realised that her acting career would never take off. Her agent and boyfriend, Bradley has a massive surprise for her back in Paris.

Certain steps she takes will eventually lead her to finding out the truth of her agent. And certain accidents lead her to Harry Styles' heart.


11. 16



The one thing I hated so much about myself; apart from the way my eyebrows looked. My nerves made me feel sick to the stomach, like I had eaten four gallons of ice cream in two hours. I didn't understand why I was nervous. Harry had helped me pack up my remaining clothes and special items the day before. I stood out front of my childhood house, Harry carrying the last box out into his car. It was snowing heavily, so no one was outside our house. It took effort just to open the door to Harry's car. Noelle stood in the doorway, looping her arm around Mom's waist. She wasn't crying. Mom was. Harry placed the last box in his car, and we both walked to the front door. Harry started thanking Mom for letting him stay. I hugged Noelle, feeling her body harden at my touch. She hates me. I leaned back, kissed my mom on the cheek and promised her that I would call. And then I left. I walked to the car, opened the passenger side door, shuffled my way inside, and slammed the door shut. I wouldn't cry. Harry returned to the drivers side and started the car. With a wave, he left the curb and started driving down my street, and turned onto the main roads. 

We didn't talk for hours. Harry didn't insist on it. Last night we had stayed up until four am, swapping childhood stories. Most of mine were about how Noelle and I would dress up as one of the backstreet boys and dance to their songs. Then we talked about the future, and how his was set on a certain path and he couldn't change it because he didn't want to hurt the people he was close too. We talked about how I would settle down in a small town and teach little children about numbers and shapes, and how I would find a guy and settle down and forget any of this happened. How I would forget about accidentally knocking into Harry Styles at Heathrow airport, forgetting that he took me out to dinner. And maybe some day I would remember the Christmas I spent with him, sitting around a fire, eating turkey until our stomach hurt. I would remember exchanging silly gifts with him. I would remember going outside and stuffing around in the snow, feeling like I was 16 again. I wasn't. I would soon be twenty, with little-to-no choice on growing up. We were sentimental last night, and it showed today. 


"I should get a nose piercing," Harry said when we arrived in Paris. I slept for a few hours, and awoke to Harry pulling off the highway. 

"What?" I questioned. 

"I should get a nose piercing," he repeated, indicating to turn left. 

"What in the world would possess you to do that?" 

Harry turned right into the airport parking. "I don't know, I might be hot."

I opened my mouth to profess something but I was cut of at the sheer amount of girls lining the airport entrance. They screamed, seeing Harry's car. Apparently while I was sleeping, Harry had arranged for airport security to guide us both inside. Luckily he did, because it was a job and a half to get all my stuff into the entrance. The girls stood patiently aside, Harry promising to take photos after he had helped me with my stuff. Once everything was inside, I waited by the car to watch Harry fumble about, trying to reach every girl and take photos with them all. Once he was through about half, he apologised.

"Our flight leaves in, like, ten minutes," he exclaimed. "I'm sorry."

With protest, girls started swarming him, the patience they once had flying out the window. Security latched onto my wrist and pushed me indoors. With my attempt to balance myself, I tripped over Harry's foot. I landed on my side, and my arm was under me. 

"Oh my god!" I roared, my laughter taking over me. "God damn it Harry!" 

Harry laughed as well, reaching out for my extended hand. He pulled me up and gave me a small hug, apologising for having big feet. I noticed my boxes were gone, and that the time was two minutes before we had to leave. With Harry still in hand, we raced towards our gate, dodging people with prams and trolleys and people who were trying to take photos of us. We didn't care any more.

Harry was getting a nose piercing and I was going to be 16 again.


The plain ride was horrendous. Harry convinced me to join him in first class, and that was amazing. What made it horrendous was, we sat next to an elderly man that would not shut up. He explained his whole life story to Harry, who was patiently and eagerly waiting for him to finish up. When our flight landed, and my luggage was being sent to my old apartment, Harry and I were shuffled into a taxi which drove us to where the others were staying. 

It was December 29th, and Louis still had his apartment decorated. Red, green, blue and silver lined each and every wall. A tall fake Christmas tree stood proudly in the furtherest corner of the room, it's branches lined with pendants and Christmas balls. The star atop the tree was glowing red when we arrived. Harry placed his overnight bag next to the front door and jumped into Zayn's arms. They were all babbling and cheering. I made my way into the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. Turning into the white room, I noticed a room off to the side, away from the kitchen. The door was open and inside rested a bed, a mahogany dresser, a guitar and four chairs. I couldn't tell what color the room was painted due to the millions of photos plastered onto every square inch of the walls. I glanced at a few of them, and they were innocent photos that the boys had taken together. One that I particularly liked was of Niall and Harry, which were both in the pool, playing volleyball. I smirked, and eased myself into the lounge room, finding the five guys on the couch discussing something. 

"Who's room is covered in photos?" I asked innocently, my smile never leaving my face. 

"Mine!" exclaimed Louis. He jumped up and lead me into the room. He closed the door and turned the lights on, since the sun was setting into the horizon. He stood on one of the arm chairs, and stared pulling down seemingly random photos. At first I thought he was pulling down all of the photos above him, but as he leapt across to the next chair, he pulled down two more. He balanced his way across the dresser and came to a rest on his bed. Panting, he sat down. I followed suit. "These are all my favourite photos. Most are of silly nights where one or more of us couldn't sleep."

Louis handed me seven perfect photos. The first was of Zayn and Liam cuddling on a long sofa. They were watching a movie on World War II, and there were V cans littering the ground. I shuffled through three photos, quickly glancing at them. One photo made me stop. I could see all five boys, all rugged, half naked, sleepy, on top of a Jeep. They were facing the sun. I guessed it was a sunrise in Australia, due to the perfect beach in the background. They were all so peaceful and happy, it nearly made me cry. 

Someone knocked at the door. "What's taking so long in there?"

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