MUSE // A Harry Styles Story

Everywhere

The next night everyone from the house, all ten of them, watched the holiday fireworks over St. Tropez harbor from the tailgates of the SUVs, parked on a quiet road above the town. There had been champagne, a quick midnight swim for some, and everyone slept a little later than usual the next day.

Lia and Harry were catching their breath and cooling off in the shower after a morning tumble when there was a loud knocking on the bedroom door. Slinging a towel around his waist, Harry went to answer. It was Louise. Lia found a robe and joined them in the sitting room.

"The photos are everywhere. The nightclub and Cannes. They waited until after the holiday to avoid competing for headlines, I suppose.  We're really lucky they both dropped on the same day. I have to give it to Paul, the Croisette idea was brilliant. A lot of places are running those front and center, with the hand in the skirt as a sidebar. Your legs photograph very well, Lia. You should be thankful; it could have been very unbecoming. They don't know who you are yet, but I doubt that'll last. Well, do you want to see them?" She opened her laptop.

Lia did photograph well from that angle, and Harry's hand was obviously planted between her thighs, but it could have been so much worse. And as Louise said, that photo wasn't the one getting the attention.

The pictures from Cannes were everywhere. The snaps of them walking down la Croisette were nice; they looked cheerful, they were holding hands, they made a beautiful couple. 

It was the photo taken at the red light that was front and center of every website, every tabloid.

The mystery woman. The kiss.

Lia had never seen herself kissing, being kissed. She found it fascinating and uncomfortable at the same time. Eyes closed, mouths slightly open, pressed firmly against one another. Undeniably romantic. 

Her cell phone was blowing up. Texts, emails, missed calls. It was really happening. "Louise?" The little woman turned at the sound of her name. "What do I do?"

*****

It took days for Lia to catch up with all the friends and acquaintances who had recognized her. She Zoomed with Paul for some media training. Harry, long considered one of the most adept celebrities when it came to not saying things, was always there to guide her.

She had finally had Mariam to the house for lunch and an afternoon by the pool. Harry and the band were in the middle of recording a song, and stayed in the studio trailer nearly the entire time. Lia texted Harry as Mariam was leaving, and he came out to say hello and chat for a moment before getting back to work.

There had been a relaxing afternoon with Emma. Her home was only a ten minute sail from the house. They went in the opposite direction to prevent the young woman from trying to figure out which house was Harry's. She was very pragmatic about the photos, and her instructor's newfound celebrity.

"The one picture wasn't so bad. My friends all think he was being fresh. I told them I thought it might also have been an accident. You looked so beautiful and happy in Cannes. Nobody seems to know who you are, and I haven't told a soul that I know you. But someone will figure it out, I suppose, and life will become more difficult, won't it?"

"I'm sure it will. Harry has someone who helps him with these things, and they're going to help me too. And it won't last forever. I'll go back to Paris when school begins, and Harry will go wherever he goes, and the fuss will be over."

"But won't you stay together?"

"We're enjoying the summer together, that's all."

"Hmmm..." The young woman sounded uncertain about that statement.