"You said, no you sang, you sang that everything was gonna be alright. You said that we'll be alright, Harry. But did you mean that?"
Where Belle Olivia Granger encounters five young boys who happen to be in the biggest boyband on the planet, and sh...
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I've been to France before, but never like this.
It's been my life long dream to come here and explore the country for its beauty and strong culture, but the few times I have actually been able to visit, haven't gone exactly to plan.
Charles and Celia used to come a lot, at first making me come with them only to visit stupid art galleries, at least me at twelve and thirteen thought they were stupid, but me now would love to go. However, traveling with a tour that involves One Direction doesn't leave much room to explore anything other than a hotel room.
Now I have a few weeks to spend here with two of the most important people in my life, and I don't even know where to start.
Thankfully I have Harry Styles to guide me, and Jane Granger to teach me.
We landed in St. Barts just last night which is a French speaking Caribbean island that we're planning to spend a few days in before going to Paris where my mom is most looking forward to going.
There isn't much on the agenda for our time here other than going with the flow and taking opportunities as they come which is exactly what Harry and my mom need right now after their chaotic schedules. I'm just along for the ride.
When I wake in our small yet homey house that we're staying in, the sun is pouring in through the windows and lighting the otherwise darkened room a fierce dandelion gold. Harry is sound asleep next to me and telling by the silent house, Jane must still be asleep too. In hindsight, I'm probably a little crazy for waking up so early after a long day of traveling the day before, but once a morning person always a morning person.
I just feel bad for Mom, because I know she's been very sluggish lately and the jet lag is probably killing her versus Harry and I who have been in London for weeks, only dealing with a one hour time difference.
The sudden urge hits me to go downstairs, make some much desired iced coffee because I absolutely despise hot drinks, and start writing, something I've neglected for months, but as time passes, my vision for the story I want to write becomes so much clearer. What's even better is the title I have planned for the book doesn't even really go with the story, yet it still fits the characters so well.
I just wish I had more time to write. I'm always so busy helping everyone else, and for what? For Zayn to ignore me and for Louis to go off on me?
Mentally cursing myself for bringing on unnecessary stress that I'm not supposed to be dealing with on my vacation, I sit up and push my growing hair out of my face before sitting back on my hands and taking in the new environment. Even from this small room on the second floor of a beach cottage that resides in the very center of the island, I can still smell the ocean and the white sand, bright spring flowers that bloom in anticipation of summer, and fresh baked goods from the hundreds of bakeries that line the streets.
