Rebel Rebel |harry styles| - ongoing

TWENTY

Otis Redding: These Arms of Mine

Harry

"It was a bit of both, I guess.", she said. Her answer surprised me, but more than anything it further confused me. Was I partially to blame for their relationship fizzling out because she had feelings for me, or was it simply because my opinion matters to Essie and she knew I wasn't keen on Matt?

"Shall we call it a night, Styles? Or do you have more of my deepest, darkest secrets to discover?"

"Darling, we've got our entire lives for me to unpack you. Let's go.", we got up as Essie meticulously checked the area around the pool to see if we'd left anything behind. It was three in the morning, somehow. I knew she had to get up early, to shoot for Ale. I on the other hand, could stay in bed until noon, if I wanted to.

As I lay in the giant hotel bed, on one of the most comfortable mattresses ever, I couldn't allow sleep to take over me. I'd spent so much time fighting my feelings and, to be frank, I'd annoyed myself to death going back and forth between telling Estee how I felt and staying quiet. There wasn't anything new to add to the equation, no sudden discoveries nor a change of heart... yet I still forced my brain to run scenarios at maximum speed, as if that would somehow enlighten me. The truth was – I couldn't decide anything until I spoke to Essie, until I told her everything and let it all out in the open. Only then could I begin to map out all the different ways it could potentially ruin or enrich our relationship.

Essie

When you envision waking up in Italy, you picture sun coming in through the door of a balcony, playing with the curtains, the smell of incredible Italian coffee gently pulling you out of bed, fruit, and some old classic Italian song in the background. You don't, however, imagine it to be a rude awakening by your default alarm tone, reeking of chlorine and unable to detangle your hair. Not to mention it was seven in the morning, such an ungodly hour.

I jumped in the shower, allowing myself only the time necessary to wake my muscles up, and dreamt of coffee beans in the process. Knowing there wouldn't be any elixir of life waiting for me, since I forgot to order a wake-up call accompanied by coffee, made me want to stay in that shower forever.

The worst part of fashion week, for me, was having to figure out ways to come off as fashionable while still being comfortable. It wasn't a prerequisite, but I hated being the odd one out in a flock of models wearing head-to-toe Gucci. I squeezed into a white tube top and some boyfriend jeans, threw a printed Gucci button down shirt over my shoulders and grabbed my camera bag on the way out, thankful I remembered to set it by the door last night. There was a tiny man waiting in front of my door, with a tray and a note.

"Miss Estee?", I nodded, "This is for you.". He pronounced it e-owh, but I got the idea.

'I knew you'd forget to order yourself a coffee for the morning, so I did it before going to sleep. I'll see you in the afternoon, come to room 112, I'll have lunch waiting and you can take a nap. x, H', the note read. This man continues to save my life, day after day.

One of the positive things about working fashion week as a photographer is that you decide what comes out of your work. Sure, the designers and stylists and different sorts of managers can fix those models up, make them do one thing or wear another top, but it's ultimately you that runs the show. I loved playing with shadows, ballrooms and courtyards of this hotel were very versatile and perfect for the new Gucci collection. Ale and his team really outdid themselves with this one, I wasn't the biggest high fashion fan so to have that come from me was truly a compliment. The collection was inspired by the jungle and safari, but they extracted those patterns from their usual environments and partnered them with muted pastels, whites, and flowy materials. Let's be honest, I had no idea whether they would describe the collection as such, but it seemed quite like that to me.