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 SIX
Waking up with a hangover seemed like a habit she was developing and Bambi didn't like it at all. The first thing she noticed when she sat up in her bed was the head ache, the second being the bandages around her left forearm. She looked around in a daze, feeling like a mess, when she saw Harry sitting on the floor at the foot of her bed with her acoustic guitar in his hand. He wasn't a great guitarist and, if anything, was a bit clumsy with his arpeggios but he seemed so focused as he played and hummed.
"Harry," she said, her voice sounding like a tired mumble, "What are you doing here?" Peering at the clock, she realized that it was right into the night and the last thing she remembered was late afternoon.
He turned to see her awake and a smile appeared on his face, "You're awake," he spoke breathlessly. Pulling himself onto the bed, he pulled her into a hug, careful not to hurt her arm although the bleeding should have stopped quite a while ago. He kissed her head and looked her in the eye, "I'm sorry, Bambi."
"No, I should be sorry…"
"You don't have to be. I walked out this morning without even listening to what you had to say, I was an idiot and I'm just an irrational child sometimes. As soon as I came to my senses, I came over here because I wanted to apologize but… I was so worried Bambi!"
She smiled sadly, "You shouldn't have had to see me like this."
"What happened, Bambs?"
She hesitated, unsure about where to start. Looking down she noticed that Harry had helped her dress back into his hoodie from the night before last. She didn't know if he had noticed it, so she pulled the blanket off herself and lifted the hoodie up to show him five jagged scars just underneath her bra, along her side. He reached out to touch it and ran his fingers over it.
"Why?" he asked, looking into her eyes for answers.
Bambi sighed and started, "When I started modeling at twelve, it wasn't because I wanted to be a model. I had always had other dreams – I wanted to act and sing, but for some reason I was always told that I looked more like a model than an actual artist. I never thought so, so I put a lot of pressure on myself to… stay thin. You've seen how upset I get when I lose control, don't pretend like you didn't notice it. It drives me right off the edge. When I was fourteen, I learnt that hurting myself was the only thing I could control. I try not to do it often, even though I want to, because I don't want any of my fans finding out and the make up artists always complain that I don't take good care of myself, but sometimes I stuff up. Last night I stuffed up, not just with the cutting but with you. I had no control, I was drinking because I wanted to get away and then… I don't know, I guess I blacked out."
Harry held her, "I'm sorry, I feel like it's partially my fault. Bambs, I think you're beautiful and yes, I do know how scared you are about certain things, but there is nothing to be scared of in this world – never. And if anything were to threaten you, I, hell me and the boys, will be right there by your side to fight them away. I…" he took a deep breath, "I love you, Bambi, and when you passed out on me I thought I was really going to lose you, I was so scared."
"You didn't call an ambulance though," she pointed out.
"Well, you kind of begged me not to."
"Huh," she said, "I guess I forgot that too, but I'm glad you listened to me. Don't want this to headline right after our kissing photo." She smiled.
"You're acting really casual about this, aren't you? I mean, Bambs, you could've killed yourself."
There was a moment of silence while she thought about it, how to explain her thoughts, before she spoke, "I know. I didn't mean to but I guess I wouldn't care if I did."
"I would," Harry said, "I never want to lose you. Please, if anything ever happens let me help you and, if I'm being a dick, let the boys help you. Anybody. You're a beautiful person, you mean so much to me, I can't bear to see you hurt yourself like that."
She thought about it, "I'll try my best."
"Good," Harry replied, "I'm going to go make you some food."
Bambi's eyes widened immediately, "No, that's fine. I'm really not hungry."
"I noticed how quickly you got drunk last time and, when I looked at the bottle today, you hadn't drunk much of it at all. Not enough to be that wasted anyway, so I looked in your fridge and everything is spotless. It's like you don't use your kitchen at all, except for the cans of diet soda you keep in there."
"I eat out most nights."
"Bambi, I know you are trouble with your body, you've confided in me with that before. Zayn told me that you 'left' the food in the car today and you've never eaten in front of us. I know you're barely eating which is why alcohol can hit you so quickly and with so much effect."
"You're barely legal to drink, you know?"
"And at nineteen, you technically shouldn't be drinking either, but you do it too right?"
Bambi began to get defensive. She loved Harry and she understood that he cared about her, but what she ate or didn't eat was really none of his business, "I eat what I want and when I want."
He wasn't sure what response to give her so he sighed and took her hand, "Bambi, you know that day when you felt terrible about the photo shoot and I told you that you're beautiful?"
She nodded.
"Well, that's never going to change – not to me, not to anybody, because you are defined by a lot more than your body. You are charming and funny, you're smart and you're stronger than most people that I know. You're a role model to thousands of girls out there but they don't look up to you because you're a controlled person physically and mentally – they want to be like you because you make them happy. You can't do that if you're starving yourself, you'll end up sick in hospital, maybe one day lose your life and it doesn't just hurt you, it hurts everybody around you."
Bambi was tearing again so she leaned her head into Harry's lap, trying to not let him see her red face, "I just want to be beautiful, that's all."
"And you are beautiful, just the way you are."
As Bambi ate the sandwich Harry had prepared for her, taking care to take small bites so she didn't over eat and not fell full, she noticed that some of her clothes had been packed into a few bags, "Why did you pack my stuff away?"
"Well, after what happened I freaked out so I called the boys. I didn't know what to do with the bandage and, since Liam is really into sports and stuff, he talked me through what to do. They were really worried too so we decided that we're going to take you away for the weekend."
"I'm not going to rehab," replied Bambi immediately, "And you're not putting me in a hospital."
Harry smiled, "It's neither of those. I knew that you wouldn't want that so we thought we'd just get you away from the media circus here for a while – to our secret place, so to speak. You'll like it, I promise. Think of it as a happy and fun treatment program, One Direction style."
Bambi laughed awkwardly, completely unsure about the idea. Wanting to change the topic, she pointed at her guitar sitting on the floor, "So you discovered my secret."
"I realized. You never told me that you played the guitar."
"I play a lot of things, it's just that I keep that in my room. Not many people know, after modeling took off, music just had to go into the background for me."
Harry took her hand, "Will you play for me?"
"Not today," she shook her head, smiling, "Not lucky enough yet, Harry. But I couldn't tell what you were playing before."
"It's the new song I told you about," picking up the guitar he added, "Do you want to hear it? I think I finished the last verse."
Bambi smiled widely, "Please."
Plucking the strings clumsily, he smiled as though to apologize. His fingers changed chords awkwardly at first, as though he were trying to remember the chords. When his fingers became more fluent he sang:
Girl I see it in your eyes you're disappointed
Cause I'm the foolish one that you anointed with your heart
I tore it apart
And girl what a mess I made upon your innocence
And no woman in the world deserves this
But here I am asking you for one more chance
Can we fall, one more time?
Stop the tape and rewind
Oh and if you walk away I know I'll fade
Cause there is nobody else
It's gotta be you
Only you
It's gotta be you
Only you
He looked up at her eyes, putting the guitar down and wringing his wrist slightly, "So, uh, do you like it? I know it's a bit rough and I'm a really bad guitarist but I thought you'd get the idea…"
Bambi laughed, "Harry, I love the song," she kissed him, "And you're right, you are a terrible guitarist."
It was Harry's turn to laugh, "It's not my fault! I never knew how to play it and when I bought one, Niall just wouldn't teach me how."
"Have you tried playing any instrument?"
"Well, when I was in school I played a bit of the keyboards, but not really. I tried to play the drums before, but I was just messing around."
She got out of the bed and took his hand, being careful with her steps, "Come with me, I'll show you something cool."
Bambi walked him down the corridor, slowly but with determination to reach a place Harry didn't know about. As they stood in front of the door at the end, she asked him to close his eyes, "It's not that big of a deal or a huge surprise, but it's something I've never shown anybody and I'm a bit proud of it."
"Okay, Okay," he put his hands over his eyes.
When Bambi opened the door she signaled for him to look. The site before him was absolutely amazing - A completely soundproofed room with dim lighting, and fairy lights dotting the walls. He couldn't stop staring at the white, Pearl drum kit sitting in the corner, the additional electric drum kit, four different sized amplifiers on the floor and, most amazingly, the walls lined with different beautiful guitars and basses. Some of them were limited edition and others signed by musical legends.
He stepped forward to see that the room was even larger than at first glance and also held a grand piano, a keyboard, a small home recording studio and a variation of microphones set up.
When Harry finally got his voice back, he spoke, "This is incredible Bambi. Where did you get all this equipment from?"
"Online, auctions, stores – the places where normal people buy things," she laughed, "After having this entire house bought for me, my ex had made this his room for his things but since he's long gone, I wanted to redo it. I had my father ship over a few things and then just kept adding to it, like a closet musician."
"Niall would faint if he saw this room."
She smiled, "I guess he would, huh? I wish I had more time to play and maybe the opportunity to perform though. I can't now because they want me to focus on modelling, maybe acting, but definitely not music. Apparently my songs are too dark and won't sit well with my market."
"That's a shame," Harry hugged her, "But they would sit well with me."
"I said no, mister," she stuck out her tongue, "Not playing for you."
"It was worth a try."