Trendsetter (book 2) - H.S

Chapter 21: Watermelon Sugar.

A/N: this is the picture Harry takes, and may I just say.... she's so pretty I'm-
I wasn't originally going to title a chapter with this song but it fit perfectly with this whole chapter so I couldn't help it.

EL'S POV:

    "Come on El, it's not a fashion show, it's the airport!" Harry calls from downstairs, and I roll my eyes, grabbing my duffle bag, backpack, and my purse, turning all the lights off, and leaving my room.
    "You're one to talk." I mumble, walking down the stairs.
    "We don't have time for your sass today, we're going to miss our flight, and if we do I'm making you deal with my angry manager." He takes my bag from my shoulder, and walks in front of me, leaving my apartment. I called Alessandro a few weeks ago, telling him plans of the trip, and briefing him on how everything here in LA is going. He said he was proud, he said he couldn't wait to see what I had designed for the video, and that he would see me soon. I'm not sure what that means but, either way I have to see him at some point.
    "And the outfits are-" I start, but he cuts me off, opening the door for us.
    "Already packed in the car, ready to be loaded onto a plane, just like me, let's go." He motions to the car, and I roll my eyes again.
    "You're too worked up. We're not going to miss the flight, everything is going to be fine, you're going to be fine, we're going to be fine." I assure him. A driver, and security sat waiting here, and now we're all moving together to the airport as a unit. We drive quietly, Harry, and I in the backseat, and I know that this is technically work, but I cannot wait to get away, to leave the city, and go somewhere with less noise, somewhere that isn't in my face constantly. We drive, and finally arrive, both of us getting out of the car together, carrying our own bags, and the security leads us, bringing us inside. Within seconds Harry latches his hand to mine, and I know now, that when we are photographed, because I know we will be, that the fans will know, and for some reason the thought scares me, I don't want them to hate me, to dislike me.
    "What's wrong?" He leans in to ask as we walk quickly, and I shake my head.
    "It's nothing, I'm fine." I tell him, not wanting him to think that I don't want to be seen with him, or that this is the same as tour because it's not. I don't mind being known as his girlfriend, I mind being slandered online because every single one of the fans will look up everything about me. Harry doesn't say another word as we move through the motions, going through bag check, and security once more, going through the airport, going straight to the terminal, and boarding right away as we were there a little bit later than anticipated. We get to our seats, and Harry holds his hand out for my bag, and I pass it over as he puts it in the overhead compartment along with his. I move to the window, and sit, knowing we've only flown together once since knowing each other, all of the tour was spent in seperate flights. We situate ourselves, and I buckle up for takeoff, looking out the window.
    "What was wrong earlier, why did you look so nervous?" He asks, now that we're not moving.
    "It was nothing, I just... I know since tour happened all of your fans have been very confused as to what we are. Adding their own opinions, plus tabloids, and paparazzi pictures I understand why. They always wondered if we were together, and we never gave them an inclination as to if we were or not when the tour was over because we separated. The past few months of us being back together we've been out to dinner, and things like that but there hasn't been much buzz, no one knows anything, but now they can't really deny it considering..." I tell him, and he presses his lips together.
    "Considering I held your hand in public? I didn't really think about it, I just wanted to make sure you were near, and didn't get seperated." He defends, and I shake my head.
    "That's why I didn't say anything at first... I didn't want you to think that. I don't care that you held my hand, or that we're in public together, I just, it makes me nervous to know that there's one of two ways this can go, them knowing that I'm actually with you, and I'm not just working for you." I explain, and he nods his head.
    "One way or the other, don't let it affect you, they can love it, they can hate it, in the end you make me happy, and this makes me happy, and they'll either see and understand it or they won't, but it won't change a thing." He tells me, looking at me from the side, wearing a jean newsboy cap.
    "I'm going to steal this hat, and burn this hat." I tell him, and he thins his eyes at me.
    "This hat is a part of who I am, respect the hat Eileen." He tells me, and I roll my eyes. I pull out my sketchbook, and put in my headphones, turning on whatever music is the first on shuffle. I look at my book, and just start drawing, knowing I don't have anything I specifically need to design, but also knowing with new music comes new performances, and other things along with it. From what he asked for, and what I designed for the lights up music video, he's going for a whole new look, leaving the suits behind and going for something just as bold, but more himself as he's not trying as hard now, he's okay with being somewhat less. I start with the pants, sketching with a cream white color, using it for the same style of pants I've been drawing for some time now. I like the design, and after seeing the pants on him, the buttons, and the way they hug his waist, I know it's something I should stick with.
    "What's this for?" He asks me, watching me draw.
    "Anything... I just want ideas, keep them in my back pocket that way I will have something specific, or have something I can make just in case I need it. I've got another music video, and an album cover to prepare for. I have no idea what the music video will consist of, but the album cover, you're wearing pants just like these, just like the two pairs I made you in for this music video, I don't care if you disagree, you look too good in them to say no." I tell him, and he looks down at the half drawn sketch of pants.
    "But white?" He asks, and I shrug.
    "It would be a pop, eye catching... I don't care about the color, I can make them in any color... I think high waisted pants like these should be your thing, something you should constantly wear, because that jumpsuit is a similar silhouette, and then the second look for the MET as well has high waisted pants but with a different look. It fits you well, don't knock it." I tell him, continuing to draw.
    "I'm just going to let you work, make things, and put them on me. If I just blindly trust you it always ends up working out for the better." He tells me, which is very truthful. He blindly trusted me for tour, for the MET, and for this music video, all times where I truly did my best work, better than I've done for anyone else. I sketch a while, making ideas come to life with pencil strokes on paper, and end up closing my eyes, resting my head on the window, and being shaken awake by wheels touching a tarmac. "Good morning." He jokes, and I sit up, opening my eyes all the way, and stretching my arms a bit as I sit.
    "What time is it?" I ask, and he looks at his phone.
"Well in LA it would be two thirty, but here it's three thirty." He tells me, and I nod, taking my headphones out, and putting everything in order. We get off the plane after some time, and the process begins again, being moved through the airport by security, but there's paps here this time, I'm sure they were in LA as well, but they weren't visible like the ones here. Harry walks with his hand on my shoulder, guiding me as we follow security, and we both have sunglasses on, moving into the sunlight. It's still warm in LA, but the sun hits differently here, it feels nicer, there's a great breeze, and it smells like vacation, sweet, sweet vacation. "Are you alright?" He asks as we get into the car, and I nod, taking my sunglasses off.
"Yes, honestly, just a little bit out of it." I tell him truthfully, having just woken up from a plane nap, plane naps make you more tired than normal ones, and I believe that completely. We drive, and pull up to a beautiful beach home, it's giant, and I know right behind it will be access to our very own beach. I know the rest of the team will be here, staying here with us. The house is big enough for that so it shouldn't be a problem. We walk into the house as the car drives away, and I lead, going straight upstairs to one of the rooms that faces the beach. We don't start filming for a few days, I made the suggestion that we get him tan first before we take his shirt off in a group of sweaty people, and everyone agreed with me on that. "Let's go to the beach." I suggest, and he laughs.
    "We just got here." He tells me as if I don't know, and I take my bag from his shoulder, and put it on the bed.
    "I'm aware, and I don't care, let's go to the beach." I open the bag, and pull out my bathing suit, knowing I put my swimsuits on top for this exact reason. I grab the black, and strip right then and there, not giving him any chance to protest, and I pull the bathing suit on, tying it to my body. "Either you come with me, and get started on that tan, or I go alone, and have fun all by myself." I suggest, and he grabs his bathing suit.
    "I'm coming." He groans out, obviously annoyed by the rush I'm in. I'm ready for the sea, and I'm ready to be as far away from my sketchbook, and my work as I can. The only thing that is missing from this trip is my best friend, but he'll come to the next one, he has too. Harry finishes up, and I already have pants pulled over my swim bottoms, and two towels in my hands.
    "Let's go, let's go, let's go. We've got an entire beach just to ourselves for a few hours, and not a single person is going to bother us, no fans, no cameras, no managers, no one, I want my boyfriend time, and I will be getting it." I tell him, ignoring the fact that he's slowly dragging behind me. "What in the world is wrong with you? We're at the beach!" I do a small spin as my feet touch the cold marble flooring underneath me. We walk to the back of the living room, light pouring in through all the open windows. I open up the back doors that look out to the ocean, and I hear the sound of the waves, and the smell of the salty sea as the breeze blows past me, and through my hair.
    "Nothing is wrong love, I'm following you." He tells me, and I turn my back, walking from the deck, and letting the sand drift between my toes, my pant legs dragging the soft sand as I do. Nothing can bother me.