Carolina and The Fan Non-fiction | H.S

Twenty-Three

I took Jasmin today to Camden Market to get away from everything.

Last night, luck was mercifully on my side and I didn't get the Captain Von Trapp treatment from my father. He rarely does, but when it happens, it's usually for justifiable, heavy reasons. I think I wrongly weighed this one.

They told me they found out after my cousin Ava, daughter of my dad's brother, called them about the song. Ava Townes, a directioner herself, was mistakenly identified by the FBI-skilled fans as Carolina girl. Her public twitter blew up prompting her to go private after clarifying that she's not Carolina girl.

Then, after giving enough listen to the song, she figured out that it was likely me. She went on to call my parents about it. It was during the telling of this account that I only went on my direct messages to find that Ava has indeed messaged me.

In true Mother and Father fashion, they made me apologize to Ava, which she gladly took via a group call. She freaked out with Jas. I had to explain to my parents that that's how fans communicate. Then she let Nana into the conversation. Nana, for a lack of better description, was acting like I had won a Grammy.

"Sweetie, I'm just proud my legacy's in a song!" she exclaimed after I asked her if she was okay with the mention of her quote. She also went about how good my boyfriend sounds performing. I didn't have the heart to correct her.

Once it's only my Mom and Dad in the call, I gave them the gist. Coffee. Barbican. Home. And not talking to each other anymore. I could tell that they want me go to go about it word for word but they were pleased with the narrative. Until Dad questioned my singleness after having not corrected Nana about the boyfriend status of the rocker (Nana's term also). He didn't believe that we don't have communication.

"It be like that sometimes Pa," I said in a funny sound.

"Oh really. I wanna scream, yeah, I wanna shout it out and I hope she hears me now," my father crooned, with a twang that's mixed with his accent and an imitation of Harry's.

"Pa," I groaned.

"I'm just saying–or in that case," he said, with a face that's about to spill a dad joke, "singing."

I groaned louder.

"Homeboy needs to stand by what he wrote or I'm fixin 'ta make you two meet," he joked, or I'm hoping he joked.

"Father please," I whined, in a sad attempt at Cockney accent.

"I'm gonna ignore that my daughter's starting to sound British," he said. "But I'll give your dude the credit, the song reminded me of the Beatles."

After that call, I realized my family loves the song and I guess so do I.

It wasn't long after that, that I found myself entertaining another group call in less than an hour. Bryon and Zach and Gracie caught wind of the gossip and put me in the all too familiar hot seat. It also became quite an inconvenient way for Jas to meet them but, nonetheless, they were all good vibes for her. Especially Bryon, who Jas seems to share some Irish roots with.

"Vienie, our Hot Seatee," said Bryon, calling me by my nickname she caught from Jas and a new nickname born out of the many times they had to hot seat me for what they call as Oprah-worthy things.

In the process of playfully berating my secretiveness, Jas came to my defense, "To be honest with you, I've known her since our younger years and I don't know much about the guys in her life. For all I know, she's had tons of boyfriends and we just don't know it."

I give her an appreciative look which she acknowledges.

"Seriously, you've managed to capture the heart of a business prince and a music prince," Gracie mused. Oblivious to the awkwardness the pierced among the rest of us over the mention of Theo, she went on to say how I was a modern Cleopatra temptress minus the effort of actually tempting.