GOTTA BE YOU
Summary: Bambi Aerith was an upcoming fashion model and actress working really hard to find her place in the industry. This is until she was advised to meet and befriend the One Direction boys and fell hopeless in love with Harry Styles, the boy who was able to take off her carefully applied mask.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Hey, Bambi," a soft voice spoke to her, gently shaking her out of sleep, "Bambi, it's time to wake up."
She opened her eyes to Harry's sleepy smile and, remembering that she had curled into his bed last night because of the sudden thunder storm, she buried her face deeper into his chest, "But I'm sleepy…"
"You silly girl," he kissed her head, "Silly and sleepy."
She rubbed her eyes and looked around, his blue sheet warming their bodies, her in his shirt and him in track pants, "What time is it? And where is everybody?"
"They drove out to buy food and, knowing Niall, they're not going to be back for a while."
Bambi smiled, "Are they buying McDonalds? Because there's one closer than two miles away."
He laughed, "So you do watch our videos…"
"Not at all," she kissed him, "I just thought it was a good song. I think you should release it, would be a chart topper."
"Oh right," he laughed at her sarcasm before pulling her back into his arms, brushing her hair gently with his fingers as she rested her head on his shoulders. He glanced down at her face, completely free from makeup and pretense, "You're an odd girl, you know that?"
"Why so?" she asked, unsure where it come from.
"Well," he held her closer to his body, scared that he might offend her in some way and he really didn't want to let go of her, not when he had only just got her, "The first time I meet you, you're so controlled and everything, then you drink a bit and you just kind of loosen up so much."
Bambi froze, absolutely terrified that he noticed her slip ups, "I'm sorry," she apologized automatically. She was so used to apologizing for any time she showed her true self that she didn't realize Harry, unlike her ex boyfriends and her manager, was not scolding her at all.
"No, no, no," he said, "Don't be sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just mean… when sometimes you seem like you're trying to think through every movement you make and calculating everything, but at other times you seem so vulnerable and.. it's real, you know?"
"But what is real anymore?"
"Well, I'm real, my feelings are real, this room is as real as the box of carrots sitting in Louis room and, if you stop worrying so much, you can be real too."
"I guess I'm just used to worrying," she closed her eyes to listen to his heartbeat, knowing that what she was going to say next might completely ruin their new relationship, "Ever since I first got out of my home town and tried to make it big here, I've had a manager tell me what to do, what to say, who to be with. My entire life's been orchestrated so much that, sometimes, I really am scared that the real me will mean the end of everything as I know it."
Harry considered it before he spoke, "What do you mean by she told you who to be with?"
This time, it was Bambi's turn to hold onto him tighter because she loved him so much, she really did, but she knew what she was about to say might change everything, "Angela tells me who I should date to get more exposure for myself, that's why I have been dating rich directors, actors and singers since I was sixteen. She gave me those backstage tickets because she wanted me to date one of you boys, most likely Zayn, and to be photographed at the after party."
Harry suddenly pulled away and sat up, "You mean all of this is a plan?"
"No, I-"
"You came to the show, got invited to the after party and ended up drunk so we had to take to back to ours and then, what, called a photographer to get photos of you and me at the front door? And then all of us like you so much-"
"Harry, it's not w-"
"-we have you guest star in a video diary for our fans so they can understand me and you. You stay the night in my bed and then decide to tell me that this is all a joke? What am I some kind of wind up toy to you?"
At that exact moment, the rest of the boys came into the room, smiling and carrying bags of fast food. Louis screamed, "We have your breakfa-!" but stopped halfway when he noticed the tension in the room. By then Bambi was anxiously curled up at the foot of the bed and Harry, red faced with anger, stood by the table. "What happened?"
Harry uncharacteristically pushed everybody out of the way as he gathered a pair of jeans, shirt and his sneakers, leaving the room and heading out, "Why don't you ask the actor?"
Everyone stood in awkward silence before Louis ushered them out. The last time Bambi heard, as he closed the door and sat next to her on the bed, was Niall saying that she thought she was a model.
He looked at her for a solid minute, sitting there in Harry's shirt, positively trembling with anxiety that he simply did not understand. Louis remembered the first time she met them, in absolute control of her words and knowing exactly what to say, do or even wear, in order to make herself the most appropriate. He just didn't see any of that in the mess sitting in front of him, something that he knew had only happened within the last ten minutes or so. He inches closer and put his arm around her shoulders. "Bambs, what happened?"
At that moment, she broke down, tears and sobs erupting from her uncontrollably and she fell into Louis chest, enveloped in more sadness and disappointment in herself that she had been allowed to show for a long time, "I messed up, Lou. I messed up so badly."
She explained everything that happened, from how Angela has been advising her all these years, to how she realized that she had only ever felt real with Harry and that she was developing actual strong feelings for him, to what she told Harry that lead to him walking out. "I love him, Louis. He didn't let me tell him that and now," she sniffed, "He's gone."
Louis squeezed her, "You know Harry's just a pain in the buttocks sometimes and he's rash, he will say and do a lot of things without thinking it through. I'll talk to Harry, okay, and I promise that he will understand."
"I just feel so guilty for the first time," she said, wiping the tears from her blotchy, red face, "It's like, the first time I found someone who really liked me for me and I messed it up just by being me."
Louis handed her a tissue, "Bambs, it'll be fine. I'll try and call Harry and tell him what happened, but why don't you just go home for now? Have a nice bath and eat the stuff we bought, promise it's good," he smiled, "Leave this to us, because it's not your fault. Harry's just being a sodding idiot and I won't let me walk away from someone like you. I'll have Zayn drive you home?"
"Thanks Louis."
Harry didn't know where he was heading but, as he drove down whatever road he could find, all he knew was that he wanted to be away from everything – the photographers, the media, twitter, celebrities, models, Bambi. Anything to be away from that circus show that seemed to be constantly running his life, judging him and burning him whenever he did something 'wrong'. He hated it and, no matter how much he had wanted to be famous, he hadn't thought about the cost that would come with it. He thought he could handle it, but he couldn't.
His phone didn't stop ringing and buzzing but he looked at the caller ID, Louis, and threw it on the backseat. Whether he was calling about Bambi or band business, he didn't want any of it. It might have been two or three hours before he got tired of driving and pulled up next to a wide field of green grass – no animals, but no property or fences either stopping him from driving his car up. He did and jumped into the back seat, resting his feet out of his open window.
It was a good place for thinking and a good place for him to write. He pulled out the little notebook he kept under his seat and found a pen. From there he wrote and wrote, sometimes lyrics, sometimes just his thoughts about Bambi, sometimes he drew. He wasn't a brilliant artist but his pen sketch of Bambi made him feel terrible – because he believed her, he loved her but was scared to use those words, only to find out that she had been lying the whole time. He was colouring in her lips when his phone vibrated again.
Out of frustration, he picked up, "What do you want?"
"Harry!" Liam exclaimed, "About time you picked up, it's been close to four hours. Where the hell are you?"
"I really don't want to deal with this right now."
"Louis needs to talk to you," Liam said, handing the phone over.
"HARRY YOU STUPID NIT!" he screamed in the phone, causing Harry to pull back a bit, "YOU WALKED RIGHT OUT THIS MORNING, DON'T TELL US WHERE YOU'VE GONE? Worse thing is, you did this without even letting her EXPLAIN?"
"What was there left to explain?" Harry didn't like to cry too much, unless it was because of a movie but he had always felt more comfortable around Louis so he sniffed, close to tears, "I feel so used, Lou. She just used me like that."
"She didn't use you, Hazza. She came to that show because she was told you, that's right, but she told me that she chose you because she likes you. Harry you're the first person she's genuinely wanted to be with in a long time and you block head just walked out on her."
"Do you believe her? Doesn't it sound like a lie to you?"
"I believe her. When you have a girl curled in the foot of your best mate's bed shaking out of control because she was having a minor panic attack because your said best mate walked out on her, and then she cries until your shirt is nearly see through, well, it's pretty obvious that she isn't lying. She's not that good an actor, Harry. No one is."
Harry thought about it, imagining her shivering form, her most hated moments of lack of control, and then looked at his drawing – lacking but reminding him of her long curls, her mesmerizing eyes and those lips that he loved so much to kiss. He knew his decision then, "I'm coming back."
"Good," he could almost hear Louis smiling through the phone, "Go to her house, I had Zayn drop her off."
There was a knock on her door, making her giggle. Everything was making her giggle, from the way she had cut up her forearm to the blood she had smeared over her half naked body and the bottle of Jack Daniels she was sculling. The room was twisting and turning, exactly the way she wanted it. Anything to be away from reality.
Completely aware that she was only wearing her black bra and panties, since she ripped off Harry's old shirt as soon as she got home, and that her cuts were just starting to clot, she opened the door to find Harry, "HAZZAAAAAAAAAAA!" she shouted, oblivious to the terrified look on his face, "What are you doing here?"
He looked at her, blood smeared across her stomach, her forearm cut so much that it was making him a bit woozey, the bottle still in her hand, "Bambi what are you doing? Are you drunk?"
She fell slightly and hit the wall, sliding down with tears in her eyes, a complete contradiction to the ironic happiness in her voice, "Noo! I just had a drink or two, I'll be fine!" Her eyes started to close, "It's so spinny. I like spinny. Do you like spinny, Harry?"
He pulled out his phone, ready to call an ambulance before she pulled onto his arm, "Bambi, you need help. You're bleeding."
In a sudden sober moment, she spoke, "If I were dying from blood loss, I would be dead already," her eyes closed, "First Aid Kit. Bathroom. Don't call anyone, please."
Please.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: While Harry indeed doesn't call an ambulance for the sake of Bambi's reputation, please know that in a real life situation, calling training medical help immediately will be absolutely necessary because the risk of blood loss, alcohol poisoning or infection is present in such a condition. If this happens to you or your friend, please call an ambulance immediately. I am in no way glorifying self harming or alcohol abuse, or making it seem to be a 'small deal'.