i. MEDICINE harry styles [ON HOLD]

xii. ZETA

MARCH 5, 2018.
— PARIS, France

The second day in Paris was less cramped. Adrian woke at approximately seven in the morning, exercised for twenty minutes, showered and changed into grey Adidas sweats and white runners, then headed out. A chauffeur would be coming at nine, so he had plenty of time to enjoy the brisk morning and grab some coffee and breakfast. On the way back to the hotel, two American teens stopped him for a picture, which, in its small scale, was unfamiliar and pleasing. He ate his breakfast in a secluded corner of the courtyard encased by his hotel. He felt peaceful, happy, and ready for the day.
He found himself, not long after, back in The Salon. He was seated at a leather chair upstairs, and greeted by a makeup artist. The artist clipped his hair back and applied concealer, a light powdering, setting spray, eyebrow gel, and lip moisturiser that left a pale glow. Following this, Gideon Abbe came in and adjusted his hair and gave him his clothes for the morning. She was kind and chatty.
"How old are you, love?" She asked as he changed behind a curtain. He answered 'twenty-one', and she made a comment about how young he was.

It wasn't long before he had been shipped off to the Stella McCartney show, flaunting Tom Ford pink slacks and merino white turtleneck sweater, a grey Gucci woollen coat, and Alexander McQueen oversized white sneakers (decorated with blue flowers). At the McCartney show, and the Sacai show that followed, he mingled with fashion personnel, laughed with randoms, saw people taking pictures of him from afar, and, when asked, answered questions but reporters about his clothing and time in Paris.

Adrian got back to his lovely hotel room around lunch time. Immediately, he banked his clothes in the closet and redressed into sweats. He ordered lunch, and sat down, not having anywhere to be until seven o'clock that evening. Whilst eating lunch, his phone rang, displaying on its screen 'Ben Whishaw'.
"Hey, Ben."
"Adrian, how's Paris?"
"Great, thanks. What have you been up to?"
"Not much, really, just relaxing before the press tours for Mary Poppins and A Very English Scandal begin."
"Right, that will quite a busy time..."
"Indeed. I just called to confirm when your next specialist appointment was, I'll pay it in advance if that's all right?"
   "The day after I get back, March fifteenth."
   "Great, great. Do you want me to come?"
   "You don't have to, it's just a day of testing."
   "Day of testing by yourself? No, that'd be boring. I'll come, that way I can drive you. Catching the train and bus might be a bit harder for you now, Mr Model."

The eight o'clock Alexander McQueen show was much like the others. First he went to The Salon, where Gideon dressed him in McQueen tailored white pants, a silk black Prada button-up, black Doc Martens, and (gasp) a Tom Ford Shearling Teddy Parka that exceeded five and a half thousand pounds. Following this, he soaked in the high fashion world, observing wondrous models, and conversing with important persons.

! ! !

I know he's not in it really at the moment, but I promise once Harry comes in it will hit you like a truck.