Fade {Harry Styles}

Chapter 3

Kelsey leaped down the flights of steps with a bubbly cheerfulness that set Marcel’s teeth to a grind. Fucking peppy people.

"Where are we going?" He scoffed, disdainfully.

Kelsey only smirked knowingly at him; it was her only reply. 

It felt good to stretch his limbs. He had been cooped up all day on his own accord watching shows and mourning about being forced to play the roll as Marcel. As far as he was concerned, he could still act as himself, just with a different name and face. Who said he had to change?

Well, he figured he could fake that he’d changed. It wouldn’t take much to fool management. But the boys…he wasn’t so sure.

"Come on.” She taunted from next to a gray car no doubt hers. Marcel had fallen behind despite the fact his legs were drastically longer. His gaze fell over the contraption on wheels. It was certainly not a luxurious sports car that Harry’s eyes had been trained to recognize. Her car was an older model, probably from the 90’s, and a few noticeable scratches, unlike his prized beauty back in England.

He did give her props though. Her car was in better shape that Marcel’s.

"Do I have to?" Marcel went on, drawling like a child. Kelsey swung her keys around her finger. "We don’t get have to get flapdoodles.”

"Fap to poodles?" Marcel yelped in laughter. He came to a stop on the passenger side. He raised his voice to a mocking girly octave. "Girl, you is into some cray-cray shit."

Kelsey let out a hearty laugh before calling him an unprintable name. They both slipped into the car. “It’s an ice cream parlor.” She explained, still smiling in amusement at Marcel’s comment. He felt a pang of pride at the way he was able to make her smile although he knew it must not be that difficult of a task.

"What an awful name." Marcel noted, "Somebody’s gonna get the wrong idea with a name like that." Her eyes left the road to shoot Marcel an irritated look. "You and your profundities." Marcel’s smirk was directed at the window as his gaze wandered to the scenery outside. Rochester wasn’t necessarily a small town, it just wasn’t the quantity of large he was rather used to. 

The world seemed to fade before him as his mind fell deep into a canvas of memories; flashes all around, blinding him to see only the first few rows of seats. Despite his ability to only see directly in front of him, he could feel the thousands of eyes. Hear the thousands of screams. His voiced had echoed over booming speakers in the large arena, drawing even louder screams from deep within the heart of the crowd. He had taken the stage presence for granted then, not exactly realizing how lucky he was, only knowing how famous he had become. 

He could see it, how he ranked himself higher now than ever before. How he had skyrocketed in ego to the point of disturbing. He could see how he had changed himself, yet he couldn’t figure out how to backtrack. He couldn’t just erase what the fame had made him. He couldn’t just start being who he was before. Quite frankly, he didn’t want to be. He liked being richer, famous, andbetter than everyone else. How was he to just stop?

Buildings began to form in his vision again as he filtered back to reality. Kelsey had kept silent, hinting that his silence was one caused by the depth of thought. Lucky for them, they had arrived.

A tan building with black trim stood before them. Pink letters spelling out “Flapdoodles” hung at the front in some sort of crazy font. He probably would have insisted on leaving the premises if it weren’t for the ‘homemade ice cream’ sign. Marcel had a weakness.

Seated with his hands wrapped around cone mounted with colorful ice cream, Marcel studied the girl before him. Her small fingers clutched at a large cup overflowing with some absurd combination of colorful flavors. Her large gray eyes eagerly were cast downward as she shoveled heaping spoonfuls into her agape mouth.