I arrive at Gare Du Nord at twenty past ten in the morning and I don’t expect to find Liam around. I know he’s busy doing promo or something else. I mean, this is their first show in the European leg so it’s kind of important. However, I do expect to find some familiar face or someone waiting for me who’ll take to Liam or wherever I can wait for him. The trip was nice, comfortable enough and I managed to sleep a bit so it felt even shorter. Now here I am, in Paris, not knowing what to do next. Liam said he would try to be here but he wasn’t sure, yet I didn’t ask him exactly who would pick me up.

Silly Belle.

Suddenly, hands are over my eyes and I drop my small bag as my own hands fly to grab the stranger’s ones. I try not to scream, but my heart is beating widely, scared.

“Guess who?” a male voice says that I immediately recognise. I can’t believe how accustomed I’ve grown to it in two months.

“Liam,” I say, a smile on my lips. “You scared me!” I add in a loud voice, almost a scold as I turn around and slap his hands away. “I thought I was gonna die!”

He laughs at me before grabbing my face in his hands. “Welcome to Paris, Belle,” he says softly before placing his own lips on top of mine. I close my eyes and kiss him back, not even fighting it mentally. “I missed you,” he says and I only smile. I have missed him, but I’m not nearly ready to say that out loud.

“I thought you wouldn’t be here,” I tell him because I really believed that. He shakes his head and smiles softly as he picks my bag with one hand and with the other grabs mine.

“That’s what I wanted you to believe. We did the promo in a morning show so now we are free to go around. We just have to make sure to be in the venue a few hours before the show for sound-check and all that jazz,” he explains and I nod. “Dean came with me. He’ll drive us and make sure we don’t get lost or die.” Liam points at a big bald guy dressed in black a few metres away, watching us closely. I wave at him and he only gives me a nod.

Bodyguards, always so impassive.

“So, now that you are in Paris, where do you wanna go first?” Liam asks me and I focus my attention on him now. He is smiling happily at me, kindly and I do the same.

These feelings I’m developing are still conflictive and they give me a bad headache, but I can’t run away, especially when we are in public. I have to be cosy and look happy, even if that could make things worse for me.

“Let’s start with the basics: Eiffel Tower,” I say and his smile is wider.

“Great. Let’s go then,” he agrees giving me a little squeeze before raising our hands and leaving a warm kiss on the back of mine. The gesture makes my heart flutter and I have to scold myself mentally to keep it under control.

So we go to see the Eiffel Tower, we buy souvenirs­­—so overpriced it makes my stomach hurt—and have breakfast together. He tells me about the trip with the band and what they have prepared for today’s show. I tell him about how things are going with Dad and Ariel’s album. I also tell him about my plans to meet her next week and he seems surprised for my willing to befriend her. In sum, we have a nice time. Then he takes me to one of those street fairs to buy more things and I actually help him because he wants to take souvenirs for his family this time and I think that’s great. Here he makes me tell him why I don’t like France, especially when I refuse to let him buy me a shirt that says Paris Je T’aime. It’s mostly because for some reason every one assumed I was French and it was always brought up to me. It’s the same why I don’t like The Beauty and the Beast—besides the issue with abusive relationships and Stockholm syndrome—, because I don’t like to be imposed analogies and when people bring that up too often, I end up rejecting it, hence hating it.

Liam calls me a weird hipster for that and I do take offense. I refuse to let him take my hand until we make it to Louvre Museum. There, I’m the one holding his hands because I’m just so excited. And Liam knows he has to remain in silence now because I like contemplating the exhibitions. We only talk about them when we are out and I can barely hold my excitement.

We have lunch together—and for dessert we have macaroons because I insist too much on this— and then he takes me to the Seine, and yes, I do get very distracted with the bookstalls. We get on a boat and take a short trip where we mostly relax together as we watch the lovely scenery. I might dislike Paris, but I reckon its beauty and history.

“Tomorrow we have the whole day for ourselves. I kind of made sure of this before hand. So we’ll visit all the other places. Like The Arc de Triomphe and the cathedral of Notre-Dame. Just for you,” Liam promises me, ignoring all the other people with us in the boat, even Dean who watches us closely. Some fans of Liam have approached us so far, but Dean helps to manage the situation and then Liam tells them, politely, he is enjoying a weekend with his girlfriend and they leave after a picture and autograph. Nice fans.

“That’s lovely, I’m excited,” I confess and he smiles happily. His arm is around my shoulders, keeping me close in this chilly day.

“And I have reservations for dinner after the concert. Don’t worry, nothing extremely French like snails. Ew,” he adds to my relief and I chuckle, cuddling next to him even closer. “By the way, we stay on the bus because it’s more fun there but there are always hotels. I don’t know if you’d like that or if you prefer staying in the bus with us.”

“Probably the bus. It’s just one night, after all,” I reply and he nods with a wide smile. I think he was expecting this answer.

After the boat excursion we are almost late for sound-check so Dean drives very, very fast. But we make it and I’m able to see, for the first time, the band on stage. I of course greet them all first and exchange pleasantries.

I’ve listened to their music and I quite like it, but I wasn’t prepared to see them live. I know studio versions are always more layered and I normally preferred the live sound because it’s raw and purer. One Direction definitely sounds better live. Like incredible better. Zayn’s voice is out of this world and the way he plays with the tones is mind-blowing. Niall with the guitar go crazy and he often goofs around with Louis, laughing and all. Harry transforms on stage, he goes crazy and dances but he’s also very dorky as I’ve got used to see him And Liam… his voice gives me the chills, goose bumps all over my skin because he’s even more confident on stage and he dances and goofs around and I’m just hypnotised. I really don’t mind his cockiness and that arrogant smile when he looks at me as he sings. I don’t know why but isn’t just me or it got really hot out of the blue? As I watch him I have this urge to go on stage and just jump on him. Like oh my God. I don’t even know how to describe this feeling, I just know my hormones decided it was time to wake up and behave as if I were fifteen.

“What did you think?” he asks me when the finish the few songs they normally do for sound-check. He’s still on stage  and it’s really hard for me to concentrate.

“Amazing,” I say, giving him two thumbs up. “Call me a fan, now,” I add and his smile is dashing.

He gets down stage and walks up to where I am. From there he takes me to the dressing room where they get ready for the show and just wait. I wait with them. Zayn joins us and I find myself talking to him the whole time. The two hours before their performance starts. We laugh and chat as if we’ve known each other for years. From nice and common things as the places I visited today with Liam, we end up talking about current events like what’s happening in the US with the police forces and all that injustice, or the situation in Middle East. I’m surprised that he is aware of these situations and that he has very defined opinions I share. We rant together, argue and share some knowledge the other doesn’t know.

Liam, even if he wants, can’t join us because he knows little about the topics we are discussing and after a while we get so into it that we ignore him. It’s not on purpose, it’s just that I don’t normally have people whom I can talk about this, so it’s really exciting for me. Moreover, I don’t have people who are interested in these topics and have real opinion about them. Most of my colleagues are just focused on their lives and jobs as to worry about the rest of the world. I, on the other hand, I’m always researching, finding independent articles because you just can’t trust the regular broadcasting stations to report the facts as they are. It’s incredible to find someone who is as passionate as I am about these topics.

Only when the guys are called to go on stage we realise how time flew and how late it is. I realise then that I’ve ignored Liam until now and I feel a bit bad about it, especially when I notice how his expression has become darker and the smile he had been wearing the whole day disappeared.

I feel like apologising to him but I don’t have time, he has to go on stage and perform for a large, very large crowd. I stay backstage, watching and waiting. I really didn’t mean to ignore Liam, it just happened. It’s not his fault or mine that we can’t talk about topics that really engage me. It’s not anyone’s fault that we don’t have much in common or that Zayn and I do. It’s not a surprise either that Liam and I can’t have that kind of relationship in which we can engage in heated and interesting arguments. I mean, I do have fun with him—we had a lovely day today—and I’m feeling comfortable next to him, but I don’t think we’re made for each other or well matched. We are so different.

Well, this should also help me to realise all these feelings for him are quite pointless and foolish. Liam and I have no future, whether there’s a contract or not standing between us. We are just too different and I don’t think we could have a meaningful relationship. So there goes Ariel’s proposal that we could date for real after the contract. I don’t think we would go anywhere and why keeping something that has no future for any longer. Six months seems like a good amount of time and if I focus on only enjoying the time together with Liam, then it should be fine.

Instead of trying to fight these feelings, I should just have a good time, fulfil my duty as a fake girlfriend and keep in mind that Liam and I are like water and oil. We just can’t merge. If I do that, then these four coming months should be pleasant and parting ways would just be the end of a transaction, not a drama. If I don’t overthink what I’m feeling for Liam, then it should be under control. Giving too much thought to something usually makes it look bigger than it is. I’ll just disregard these feelings and have a good time.

Yes. That’s a good approach. I’m satisfied with that.

At the end, coming to Paris was a good idea. It cleared my mind and gave me the perspective I couldn’t find back home.

So when the concert is over and Liam is back, I feel more relaxed and in control. He also seems in a better mood. He’s bubbling with energy from the performance and he just grabs me in his arms when he sees me, kissing me fiercely.  I push back quite soon, though, because his mates are around and it’s a bit awkward to behave like this in front of them. However, he still keeps me close and smiles.

“We’re going to a club later. You’ll join us?” Zayn asks Liam and I and I look at the man holding me by the waist.

“Maybe later,” he replies. “We have other plans first.”

“Quite right then, have fun. It was really nice having you here, Belle. You’re staying until tomorrow, right?” he asks me next and I nod. “See you then.”

“Have fun! And great concert, by the way!” I tell him as he walks away, leaving Liam and I alone. “What now then?” I inquire looking at Liam.

“I change and we go for dinner. I’m starving!”

“Great. I’ll wait for you,” I tell him and he nods.

He doesn’t let go of me just yet, he just lowers his head kiss me again. This time his mates have left to the changing room and only the crewmembers are around, running from one point to the other, not paying us attention at all, so I don’t stop Liam. I just kiss him back, getting drunk in his adrenaline post-concert and it’s quite the intoxicating taste.

We break the kiss when our lungs cry for air and we’re both panting, and that makes him smile cockily, like when he’s on stage and I feel quite lightheaded. He leaves me there, feeling like this, as I see him running down the corridor to the dressing room. I fan myself because once again it got really hot in here, and I know it’s not the weather but Liam’s fault.

-:-:-

I can't update tomorrow so today. I hope you don't mind! I'll be away for a month so updates will be sporadic. If you follow me on twitter (@BelWatson) you'll know when I update 'cos I'll tweet it beforehand. So be patient!

Bel, xx

PS: For those who are not aware, the Eurostar train travells from England to France, under the water. It takes like 2.5 hours to get there and that's what Belle took.