Soon, My Friend (Currently Editing)

Easy to impress.

"But, hey, Billie? We can't talk much, it's so fucking expensive. Then we should just.. Skype or somethin' instead." June told me as we talked on the phone.

"Mh, I know. I just need to, like, sort my mind..." I said and covered my eyes with my arm in frustration.

Fuckin' hell, Harry clouded my mind more than geography did.

He'd be back soon, I assumed, and I planned mentally how I was going to behave and what to say. Not like Charlotte in Sex and the City: The Movie, screaming "I curse the day you were born!"-kind of thing, I just..

I actually just wished for an apology, hoping he would explain to me why he overreacted in that way. It pissed me off.

I was lying stretched out like a star in the big bed. I could reveal that the cleaning staff had been in here. They had replaced the rubbish, refilled the minibar in the lounge, replaced all of the paper towels and the loo rolls. And the bed was made with fresh, white beddings.

"Something wrong?" June questioned in a slightly indifferent tone, as if she was being sarcastic, as if something being wrong wasn't possible at all. She was eating - I heard her chew on something as she sat in Ian's flat back in London.

"Nooo, no, no. Nothing terribly wrong. I mean, things are just a little.. deflated at the moment and I basically just understand, like, 9 % of everything that's going on around here."

"Why are things deflated? Has something happened to Harry?"

"Eeerm, both yes and no. Nooyeees..."

"Hmm?"

"We had.. somehow... Well, we didn't argue. But there is something strained in the air. We can't, like, we can't.. be together for quite a while here without beginning to peck at each other, y'know?"

"Oh, er... Erm, yeah, I think I get it..."

"And it's like.. Like, now, only about ten minutes ago, he confronted me with my now-and-then-smoking and he's all about the... 'don't die when you're 70' when he's not really hearing me out, y'know what I mean? And goes on all about how he doesn't approve it. Also, I sort of made a fool of myself, but he criticizes my drinking - again without asking for an explanation, really. He was calm confronting me, wasn't directly mean, like.. But it was like... 'I do not like that you're smoking and that's why you have to quit', y'know what I mean?" I said, imitating Harry's voice as I mimicked what he more or less had told me.

"Ha-ha, I see... Been there, done that. With Pete, I mean."

She'd stopped chewing now, but something was distracting her. For a moment there I wasn't sure if she wasn't being alone after all, and that perhaps Ian was there eating her out, or something, but then I heard her flush the toilet.

"Yeah..." I breathed. 

"It's just... I don't want him to change me. I don't want him to think that he can improve me, somehow, so I'll fit better in. Fixing me. Zayn's smokin', Louis' smokin'. Liam? I've seen him with a pack of cigarettes, or, it was placed in the pocket of his, like, leather jacket. And Harry does know."

"Harry knows?"

"Harry knows."

"It'll be fiiiine, he'll get over it."

"D'you think he will?"

"Yeah. He's a mature man, he's got no choice."

Pfft. Mature man... Was the reaction of his mature? Maybe it was.

"Whatcha up to now, then?" June asked. I rolled over on my stomach and peered out of the giant windows. They were opened slightly.

"Naah..." I sighed. "Well, now I feel like shit. I'm lyin' in the bedroom inside of the hotel room. I'm a little bored. I do want to do something, like, read something or watch a good film, but I have so many thoughts and I get distracted so easily. I don't expect myself not achieve anything unless I'm a little social. I've texted this woman a little while ago who wants to show me the sights of Paris, erm, one of stage designers of theirs. However, she replied that she was too busy anyway with some tweak of the stage 'til tomorrow. They're doing a little show in town then, and now they are behind schedule, so..."