MUSE // A Harry Styles Story

Bad Day

They didn't talk about it.

Louise was in a tizzy when they got back to the house. Photos of Harry and Niall together had gone viral, as well as speculations about what that might mean. Both men had PR teams working on revealing just enough to keep people hoping a collaboration was in the works, without giving any specific or definitive information. The reality of the upcoming album was inching closer to exposure.

Even more pressing, however, was the request for a television appearance in Nice on the day Stevie was scheduled to arrive; they would have to spend the previous night there to be ready for the seven am call time, and wouldn't be back to the house until three at the earliest. Stevie was due at lunchtime.

"I'll be here." Lia spoke quietly from across the kitchen island. Then more forcefully, "I'll be here so it'll be fine. I can entertain her until you get back. I am capable of doing more than sailing and sewing and sex." She didn't like the tone of her own voice, but she was feeling particularly on edge at the moment after the conversation about Anne and Gemma.

Harry, Louise, and Ed looked at her like she was a mute who suddenly found her voice. It was Louise who broke the silence.

"Well of course you're capable, that's never been in doubt. I believe we all assumed you'd be joining us." Ed nodded. Harry glowered a bit before voicing his opinion.

"Of course you're coming with us. Or we'll just cancel."

Louise and Lia spoke together, "You will not cancel."

"Harry, I don't want to go to Nice. I don't like Nice. I would like to stay here. I am going to stay here. End of discussion." She left the room, stomped all the way to her workroom, and slammed the door.

Her thoughts were racing as she found something, anything to do with her hands. She fell back on an old soothing standby, sorting and folding fabric.

She had just thrown a tantrum. Well, almost a tantrum. An almost tantrum that might have bought her a few hours playing hostess to Stevie Nicks and her witchy cohort. What was she going to say to them? Were they even going to deem her worthy of conversation?

Harry was obviously upset that she wouldn't be going to Nice. It didn't matter if he was upset. She was asserting herself. They needed to start preparing for August thirty first. The end. This was a good start.

Lia suddenly realized that she still didn't really understand how he felt about her. He cared. He appreciated. He desired. She inspired. And that, she supposed, was what made a muse.

Her folding had slowed, and she began to actually look at the fabric in her hands. She remembered what was going to happen tomorrow. Maybe it wasn't a good idea, since things were tense between them. No, she thought, she wanted to do it for herself. She wanted to see if there was something more than just a good seamstress in her.

She jumped at the knock on the terrace door. Harry stood outside in his red swim trunks.

"Please come swim," his muffled voice came through the glass.

She nodded, "I'll be right there."

He waited on a chair in the grass beyond the pool, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. She didn't see a pouting boy, this time. She saw a man lost in his thoughts, and they weren't happy.

"Aren't we going to swim?"

"I want to be in the sea. Will you come?"

"Of course."

Without a word, they walked to the water's edge, where he dropped his towel and walked in until he was chest deep. The breeze blew his hair around his head, down into his eyes. He went under, coming up face to the sky, hair slicked back. Lia loved seeing him this way, hair off his face, his eyes catching the light. But today they didn't flash. They were dull and sad. She swam out to him.

"Are you so upset that I won't go to Nice with you? It's just one night. Think of it as practice."

"For what?"

"September first." She had to work hard to keep her voice neutral as she spoke about the end.

He frowned, and there was the boy who wasn't getting his dessert.

"Come on Harry. Can't we just make the best of what's left? I'm so eager for tomorrow. Then there's Stevie. And Calvin. I'm a little nervous about that, but I'm going to do it. Someday, when I'm fifty and my kids think I'm a loser, I'll pull out those pictures and show them that their mother was very cool for a summer. There's a lot to look forward to."

He didn't reply, didn't even look at her, just stared out past the rocks to the horizon. She heard it again, the echo of someone else's song...

And he's long gone,

When he's next to me

She had been paddling in place as she spoke, but now she stood and reached out to put her hands on his shoulders and shake him.

"Say something. Do something."

He sighed and pulled her close, until their skin was pressed tight.

"I'm having a bad day."

It was better than nothing. She began to massage his shoulders, his back, feeling great knots of tension release as she worked. He sighed as his body began to relax against her.

"You're very good for me, Lia. I wonder if I'm good for you."

She wrapped her legs around his hips and leaned back, happy when he looked her in the eye.

"Of course you are. You've taught me about music, fashion, and being famous. That's a lesson I never in a million years thought I'd learn. You've taught me to be naked, and to enjoy eating fish like never before. You've taught me that I'm worth your appreciation. Harry, you're one of the most desired men in the world, and you've chosen me – me. No matter what happens in my life, this will always be the summer, the experience, of a lifetime."

"It's getting more difficult."

"What's that?"

"Thinking about the end. It gets more difficult every day, sorting out what will happen after, but you're right. We should make the most of it." His expression lightened as he said it. "Tomorrow's going to be good. And Stevie will be fine. You'll be fine with her. And one night away won't kill me, will it?" He shook his head, hair spinning water around them. He smiled.