DUNKIRK | HARRY STYLES

[Scene Twenty]

6 months later

I stood, slightly drunk and worse for wear in the corner of Christopher Nolan's kitchen, petting his dog and eating the nachos laid out on the counter. After six months of filming, we'd finally wrapped today on what seemed to be the next big blockbuster. The whole cast and crew had crammed inside Chris' rented mansion and had proceeded to get absolutely wasted, me included. 

I watched Hugh Jackson rummage around in the fridge then, too tired to continue looking for whatever he was searching for, simply lay his head down on the top shelf and fall asleep. Beside him, Chris was perfectly sober as he refused to drink and had taken the opportunity to take pictures of Hugh in this compromising position. 

I sat down on the pristine floor and let Chris' dog, Scruffy, clamber into my lap. After feeding him a nacho, he too fell asleep, head rested on my knee. Drunkenness was clouding my vision and I yawned widely. Within minutes I too had joined Scruffy and Hugh in alcohol-induced sleep. 

I woke to someone shaking my shoulder. When I looked up it was Annie, one of the group of friends I'd made within the crew. Without the distractions Dad and Harry had provided me with I'd actually managed to make some friends, all of which were lovely. 

"Come on, let's go." She said, pulling me up on my feet. She shook her head disapprovingly at me but her smile was humour filled, "I knew I would find you by the food and the pets."

Even after sleeping, I was too drunk to think of a smart reply so settled on a grunt. If I opened my mouth to speak I couldn't trust myself to not throw up. 

The sun was rising as we left the now trashed house, tendrils of rosy light spreading over the Alaskan horizon. I stumbled into Annie's car, nodding along as she chattered on about the lighting guy she'd finally made out with during the party, after months of crushing on him. I felt too nauseous to babble along with her. 

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I looked at the screen to see Chris' number. I swiped across and lifted the phone to my ear. 

"Hi India, just calling to say goodbye." He said. "I'm flying out in an hour or so but I didn't really get a chance to speak to you last night. Wanted to say thank you for the past few months; wouldn't have been able to survive without you."

"No problem," I said, my stomach flipping over with nausea as Annie turned a sharp corner. "Thank you for the opportunity."

"You're welcome." He said. "Anyway, I guess this isn't a proper goodbye. We'll be seeing each other very soon."

"Huh?"

"Has your Dad not told you? Dunkirk's London premiere is next week. We'll be seeing each other then."

I knew who else I would be seeing there.

The thought was enough to make me lean my head out the window and throw up violently. 

/

Instead of flying back home I instead went to London, where Dad was working on a new TV show. I stayed in his rented flat, buried in my bed and trying not to think about the next week contents. 

Eventually, after three days straight of slouching in bed watching romcoms and worrying myself sick, Dad intervened. He strode into the dark, dingy room and took a long, disapproving look at me. 

I squirmed underneath his reproving gaze, knowing that my hair hadn't been brushed for days, my eyes were red raw from crying and there was chocolate smudged on my cheek. 

"India." He said and the worry in his eyes caused me to burst out crying. 

After that horrible phone call with Harry, I'd cried until my body hurt with sadness. Since then, I hadn't cried about him. I'd refused to; instead, I'd immersed myself in work. 

I'd repressed my feelings about him for the past six months. Now, under the pressure of knowing I would see him next week, I was breaking apart.  

Dad didn't know the depth or intensity of Harry and I's relationship. When he'd asked about him I'd answered vaguely that it didn't work out, acting as if I wasn't affected by it. So he was a little confused as to why I was sobbing, surrounded by empty chocolate wrappers with Titanic playing in the background. 

"What's the matter chicken?" He said, sitting down gingerly on the littered bed. I took the tissue he was offering me. 

"It's-it's the Dunkirk premiere next week," I said, words interspersed with occasional sobs. This only increased the confusion in his eyes. 

"Yeah?" He said. "What's wrong with the premiere? What's going on?"

"H-Harry's going to be there," I replied. Even saying his name hurt, so much so that I began to cry even harder. By saying that, Dad seemed to realise what was going on and pulled me in for a tight hug. 

"Now, will you tell me the actual truth about what happened with the two of you?" He said when I'd pulled myself together a little. I wiped at my eyes and looked up at his wise face, wondering how parents always knew when you'd told lies. 

"How'd you-"

"The way you two looked at each other- there was too much there for it to end well," He said softly. The words almost set me off crying again because there had been so much there. That was why I was scared to see him again; I would be forced to feel those emotions again. 

"But India- you worked hard on Dunkirk. There's no way I'm letting you miss the premiere," He said. 

Dad had raised me to not give up in the face of fear, to never let someone prevent me from doing something I loved. But the thought of Harry turning up at the premiere, having moved on to someone else, scared me half to death. And even if he hadn't found a new relationship, what about if he didn't want me anymore?

"I can't," I said chokingly. "It's been six months. He's gonna have found someone else."

"No one will ever compare to you," He replied, holding me close. Through the film of tears, I managed to roll my eyes. 

"You have to say that- you're my Dad," I said. "And Harry has girls constantly after him. No wonder, I mean, he's amazing. He could have any girl in the world."

"If he really liked you, he'll have waited the six months," Dad said knowingly, as per usual the voice of wisdom in my life. "If he hasn't, then he didn't deserve you anyway."

"I know, I know," I said, wiping the remaining tears from my cheeks with the palms of my hands. "It's just so scary having to see him again."

"I raised you to never let fear hold you back." He said. "When you were 5, it was spiders. When you were 10 it was the mean girls at school. Now it's love that scares you half to death."

/

so nearly finished!! eeeeek

-eden xx