Harlequinne

- prologue -

I remember when papa first got the job. I was back home for a Saturday dinner and he decided to have a family discussion. I paid more attention to the moth flailing around inside the light than his words. At first I didn't really understand why he was so happy to be leaving his family for ten months but then I understood: it paid well. I should clarify, he wasn't exactly happy to be leaving mum, Henri, Emilina, and me, he was just elated to be getting a high profile job that was stable and would boost his credentials.

I remember what I thought about it, I was over the moon. First of all, I was a fan of you. It was more of a casual love for a band that only took place on twitter than the crying over posters of you on my wall or anything related to that. I always (still do) enjoyed dancing around my tiny Parisian apartment to your music. I didn't like the idea that you were taking my dad away for ten months, but it was his choice and it was the coolest thing to have your dad work for the person you've been secretly in love with for the past year and a half. Albeit my love for you was over a computer screen. I remember that when papa first left I didn't really mind. I was the one who drove him in my beat up Jeep to the airport. It was only after the second month that it really set in that he wouldn't be there to hug me and talk me back to sleep in the middle of the night when I was scared of a nightmare or there to assure me that I wasn't going through a midlife crisis at eighteen, it was only stress over exams. It was definitely strange that you taking my dad on a world tour caused me to realize just how close I actually am with him.

I remember when we first met. You were definitely proper and charming; a perfect gentleman. You didn't care that I was only in cutoff jeans and a yellow vest top and had just come back from feeding the chickens. That Sunday afternoon I was mortified that you all first met me when I was a sweaty mess, but none of you seemed to mind. I wasn't expecting you and your bandmates and three other bodyguards that were mates with my dad to show up. I had even forgotten that my dad was coming home. You later told me you liked the scent of sunshine on my skin.

I remember the first time I joined you on tour. It was during summer holiday and papa assured me it was okay to tag along. It was only going to be two weeks but I don't think he was comfortable with the idea of me being around so many grown men and five boys around my age. I do think he invited me because he felt sorry my best friend was going to America for the summer and my other friends had bailed on me and the only plans I had was to feed the chickens, walk the dogs, and read book after book. It was a blast going all over Europe on that bus; felt like that movie Eurotrip. Every chance you got you would do your best to keep me entertained. I had a lovely time. You have a special talent to make someone feel like the words they're saying are the only things that matter at the moment; you're such a good listener.

I remember that summer when we would always be texting at ungodly hours. It was fun learning about the rest of your travels while I was back home again. You never failed to make me laugh. You were always asking me about my family, friends, and university even though I would tell you the same things, treating you like a casual friend and never letting myself get too attached to you. I felt myself getting attached to you. You even asked me about my tatoos and I actually explained to you the real reason behind each of them. This was the point I found myself trusting you. The weeks passed by and I saw your life getting more hectic. You probably didn't think of me often. It's sad to say I kept up to date with you through update accounts, it was so silly, but I was curious. Sometimes weeks would go by that we didn't speak.

I remember when you first kissed me. I was crying hot tears on a chilly December day and you kissed them so sweetly, gently away. It was breathtaking. You caught me in a vulnerable moment. The cool breeze in that clearing in the forest reminded me that it wasn't a dream. Snowflakes started floating down when you left your lips linger on my right cheek. It was delightful. I had no inkling that you were even remotely attracted to me, but three years later when I asked, you said you just wanted me to stop crying. I didn't believe you. I'm glad you kissed me though. For all of my false confidence and overly loud voice, I would never have had the nerve to actually tell you I fancied you.

I remember it was three months after you first kissed me, every chance you got you would compliment me, and things started to get weird. I just wanted to be friends, I couldn't bring myself to admit my feelings. I couldn't fight the raging butterflies I would get every time I thought of you. It was definitely foreign. It seemed like just yesterday you finished your world tour and you were already starting a new one. It was odd to have papa back for a few short months then called back again. I wasn't complaining, but... you invited me again to be at one of your concerts. You said it was only going to be a weekend because that's how long you're in the city for. I was trying to make excuses about how much revising I needed to do but you sure know how to persuade people. You and your voice like silk over marbles. Naturally I said yes. You invited me to your hotel room. The soft glow of yellow from the dim lamp made you look other-wordly, I was mesmerized. Instead of just hanging out and watching a movie as planned, you decided to order Chinese, stay up all night, tell me sweet nothings, twirl my hair lazily, wrap your arms so securely around me, kiss... the morning after, we woke up curled in each other's arms. I don't know at what point it was that I decided I wouldn't mind waking up to your eyes that stared back with such sincerity and warmth for the rest of my life.

~ Quinne ❃