Press Release

27: Press Your Point

This is going to sound ridiculous. I'm aware of how it comes across, so please do not send me fan mail or hate mail or Tweet me about it or any of that. I know it seems childish. The truth is, though, Minnie makes me feel much younger than my 30 years.

We're sitting on the floor of my Tribeca apartment, chopsticks in hand, feeding each other sushi. On the television is a cheesy movie that stars some people I knew ages ago when I first started in One Direction. A few of the people I knew back then have not fared well as they've aged. It's a reminder that I'm fortunate to have experienced such a long, lucrative, and prestigious career. I take none of it for granted.

She laughs as the piece of sashimi she'd been holding falls into the soy sauce, spattering on the plate. We were competing in a game of Scrabble earlier, and she is still giggling over the word I chose to place on a triple word score. (It was slightly naughty, but with the q in it, I'd managed to get a fairly high score.) Picking up the sashimi again in her chopsticks, she raises it to my lips, letting it dangle over my open mouth before she swoops in and devours the piece of salmon herself. I pout, but then she kisses me, and that makes me happy. The playful way she laughs while she's using her tongue to entice me is....well....hot. Erotic. There's no other way to describe the experience.

The fire is lit, and the glow lights up the room and warms us in our spots on the rug. When the movie ends, she calls out for the television to change the channel, and suddenly, Xavier and I are on the screen. Stilling, I instruct the TV to turn up the volume. I joke about being narcissistic, but really I'm constantly terrified that I will say the wrong thing during press, especially during an open dialogue. Until I've watched an interview multiple times, I cannot convince myself that I didn't somehow screw up. Carefully, I listen and observe, watching every nuance of my facial expressions and listening closely to Jimmy's comments and questions. Xavier is quite witty, and I feel my pride growing as though I have some ownership in his success on the show.

Minnie tilts her head this way and that, observing me before returning her attention to the screen. I see the wheels churning in her head, and I choose to pretend not to notice. Naturally, it's impossible. Because during the commercial break, she gives me her eagle eye as she instructs the television to "mute".

"Why do you get anxious watching it?" she asks, and I shrug. This is not a conversation I want to engage in.

But in typical Minnie fashion, she doesn't say anything further, and I watch the slick commercial for dishwasher detergent as I try to figure out my response. Wait. She doesn't need a response. Why am I considering answering her? It's perfectly acceptable for me to ignore her question.

She tucks a loose curl behind her ear, tilting her head to contemplate me. After a minute, the commercial changes to one for condoms, and I breathe a sigh of relief as Minnie effortlessly unfolds her legs, carrying our sushi plates to the kitchen.

But if I thought she was going to drop the issue, I'm sadly mistaken. When she comes back, she sits cross-legged on the floor facing me, her eyes on my face as the images flicker silently on the screen.

I do my best to ignore her, unmuting the sound as the show returns from commercial break. I'm hyper aware of her as I watch the continued interview on the Tonight Show. Her eyes don't move from my face. Not once does she so much as glance at the screen. She merely observes me, and I can feel the heat of her gaze on my skin.

It's distracting, and I can barely focus on whether my pores are too big or whether I'm being too flippant or if my dimple is showing too much. But she doesn't look away from me. So on the next commercial break, I twist my body to face hers, and I take a deep breath, "I'm anxious because I want to do a good job."