Infinity||H.S.

Keep It Up With

"Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand"

2019, April.
Los Angeles

Noelle

I would like to say that the awkward moment on my couch didn't ruin everything that night, but it did.

When Harry came back from the bathroom I was still trying to understand what happened a few minutes before and the air between us was thick with tension.

He didn't go home right away, he simply seated on the sofa, beside me, and kept eating as if nothing had happened, or at least that was what he wanted me to believe. His eyebrows were frowned, his position stiff and he bitted that taco with such a force that for a moment I thought his teeth would break.

I hated every single moment of it, but tried to brush it off the best I could, following Harry example and eating our food.

We spoke, we watched a movie together, but we were distant and I know he was as lost in his thoughts as I was.

He can't act that way, he can't look at me that way, because if he does, we can't be friends. And it's sad because I want him in my life, now that he is back in it, I don't want to let him go again. But only as a friend.

I wondered, in the days before my flight for Los Angeles If I should have confronted him on this, but I knew it would have opened The pandora's jar that is our past, and I really don't want to relive it, although there are many things we still need to talk about.

When he finally went home that night, he didn't hug me but kept his distance giving me a sad look, and told me more than once that he was going to see me in LA.

In Harry's language, he was making sure that I was still staying at his place after what happened.

I assured him, but in my heart and head, I wasn't sure it was still a good idea.

I thought about what to do all week, coming to the conclusion that the best thing to do was to forget about what happened and live up to my decision to stay at Harry's house. Not going would have just made things difficult and embarrassing, and that was the last thing I wanted. Not when we finally were able to be friends again.

I just hoped my decision wouldn't bite me in the ass.

So, armed with goodwill and confident that things would go well, I flew to Los Angels, passing the flight hours to define the details of the dinner for the Met Gala and decide which dish to present to my episode of Masterchef.

When I exited LAX airport a wave of nostalgia hit me pretty hard. I remember clear as a day the last time I was there and shrugged the memories off as soon as they started playing in my mind.
Even though I told Harry that I didn't need anyone to pick me up from the airport and that I was more than capable of ordering an Uber to go to his house, he didn't listen, and sent Paul, his bodyguard - or mountain man as I decided to call him - to pick me up.

It's been four days since my arrival now, yesterday I shot the episode of Hell's Kitchen and it was amazing.

Working with Gordon Ramsey, seeing him in his element, was one of the best experiences of my life. Sure, he is quite scary when he wants to be, and I've never seen anyone getting so red - TV doesn't do him justice - when he screams, but outside the kitchen, he was a very mannered man, and I really enjoyed talking to him.
He gave tips for some of my recipes, congratulated with me about the Met Gala and told me he was looking forward to work with me on Masterchef and eating at my restaurant when he'll come back to London.