We would like to thank everyone who has read Love Will Remember and this fanfic along with the people who have been patiently waiting for updates. Due to our conflicting schedules, we are going to try to update as regularly as possible, but it may not happen as often. For updates or questions, you can contact me and Khloe.
Chapter Two - Sam.
Pairing: Alana Burton & Harry Styles.
Co-Written with: Khloe.
"How is it that you came so early? I thought the party won’t end till 4 AM or something?" Emma questioned, her Australian accent revealing itself.
"Yeah, I uh, it - " I stuttered, not knowing whether I should tell her that Harry was here, or not. But after all, why would I hide it from her? "Harry was at the party."
"What? What was he doing there?" She immediately asked, putting her book on the coffee table, standing quickly, and coming to me.
"He got invited with the lads to perform and be the guest of honor." I replied, sitting down, which caused her to do the same.
"No one informed you that he was coming?"
"No," I shook my head.
"Does Eleanor know about it?" She asked again, grabbing her phone. I just shrugged, not knowing the answer to her question.
"She definitely knows because look," Emma then said, turning her phone so I could see what was on the screen.
"@EleanorJCalder: Australia! A lot of cool people!! Xx pic.twitter.com/Hdejejfjedosb"
The picture that was attached to her tweet was a group photo of her, Louis, Harry, Serena and Spencer.
I must admit, Harry hasn’t changed one bit. He still had his curls, that he always managed to bring out, even if his hair was in a quiff. His green eyes still shined bright whenever he genuinely smiled. Most importantly, he still doesn’t know what to do with his hands while taking a picture.
"I’m going to head to bed," I broke my contact from the picture, standing up. "Goodnight,"
"Alana, do you want to ..talk?"
"What is there to talk about? I’m fine, Emma. Thank you." I forced a smile, taking my clutch, before going to my room.
"But you should’ve told her! If you had seen Alana last night, you wouldn’t have hid the fact that Harry was in Australia." The minute my foot stepped inside the flat, I heard Emma yell.
"I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done that, but I swear Harry still loves her." Eleanor talked, in a much more calmer tone. "Alana.."
The look she had on her face confirmed how sorry she was feeling. Although, she shouldn’t have done it in the first place. “I wasn’t even sure you would be at the party.” She stated.
"You knew I worked at that company, so I had to be there somehow." I told her, arms crossed at my chest. "Please, don’t try and play matchmaker again. You know where that has gotten us."
"But I swear he loves you. He even forgives you. Just talk to him, Alana." She tried to persuad, a sad look plastered on her face.
"Why would he forgive me? I haven’t done anything! I didn’t want to share my past with him because that was over. My past is over." I answered, memories of the fight replaying. "You’re not seeing the bigger picture here. I don’t want anything to do with Harry, or any other guy. Ever again."
"I’m sorry, okay?" She finally gave up, sighing after it. She plopped on the couch, right after I did. Emma then got up, leaving Eleanor and I to talk. Not that she needed to, but oh well.
"For the past year, all I was doing is trying to forget Harry. I’ve shut myself from everything. Whenever the radio played a song of One Direction, I would ignore it, even though I miss hearing his deep, and low voice. Whenever I’m out with Emma, just walking through Melbourne, there always pictures of him roaming the different shops, and yet I ignore them. Every time I’m on Twitter, and realize that people on my timeline are tweeting him, or even talking about him, I also ignore it." I listed, looking as if I was begging her to understand. "Seeing him yesterday seemed like everything I’ve been trying to do has vanished."
"Lani, I swear I wasn’t trying to hurt you." She added, her hand gripping mine. "A part of me wished that the two of you would talk, and get back together and things will be the same again. But I guess not."
"Things will never be the same, Eleanor." I reassured her. "You have to promise that you won’t play Matchmaker ever again. Not with Harry, not with anyone else."
"I promise," She grinned.
"I missed this," Eleanor admitted, putting her drink on the bar. "I missed us girls hanging out, and going to parties and clubs. Just the three of us,"
Eleanor, Emma and I were at my favorite Bar/Club “The Royal Blue” in Melbourne. It was only just across the street from the flat. After my little talk with Eleanor, we decided to have a quick dinner, before we head up to the club. It’s been a while since that happened.
"Ouuh, Lou is calling me. I’ll be back," Eleanor then said, clutching to her phone like she was holding on to life. I have to admit though, it was pretty cute seeing that three years have passed, and they’re still madly in love.
Since Emma was off dancing, I remained alone. Although, my long stare into the white walls that stood behind the bartender were soon cut off, when the a person holding a mic, said a really familiar name. “Guys, that incredible music came from my mate, Sam Lucas. Give it up for Sam, will ya?” He yelled as claps filled the air.
Sam. The DJ.
As if my I was begging for a confirmation that it was really Sam, from Club Buddha, whom I met a year ago, and also shared a date with, he made his way to the bar, sitting exactly 10 inches from me. “Nah, just water for me today,” He ordered Mike, the bartender.
"Sam Lucas are you stalking me?" Joking, I made my way next to him, slapping his arm. "What are you doing here?"
"ALANA!" He shouted, excitement showing in his eyes. "What are you doing here?” Followed by his last words, he took one step forward, in order to hug me. I wrapped my arms around his torso, as his were around my waist.
"I live here now," I replied.
"Oh really? The owner of this club, Matt, called me and said he needed a perfect, and good looking DJ, so here I am." His lips formed a smirk. "Last time I checked, you were unemployed. Has that changed?"
"Definitely!" I nod. "I’m a model, full time now."
"Aw, I’m proud of you," He joked. "But seriously, you look so beautiful."
"Thank you," I replied, my cheeks starting to warm.
"Where’s Mr.Styles? I heard you two were dating a few months back…"
"You mean a year ago," I informed him. Immediately Sam’s demeanor changed, his shoulders lowered and he grinned really big.
"Yeah, it didn’t work out."
"Too bad for him," Sam said. "Listen, I’ve got to go back to finish a couple more tracks for my mate. Are you going to stick around?"
"Yeah," I nodded. Sam seemed to smile even bigger before heading back up to the booth. I watched him walk around the dancing people and make his way up the stairs to the booth before Eleanor’s inquisitive voice pulled me away.
"Who was that? He seems familiar."
"Sam, you remember the guy I went out on a date with while we were in LA?"
"Oh, yeah! If I remember correctly, you fancied him a lot."
"Yes I did…kind of still do. He asked if I was going to stay around for awhile."
"What did you say?" Eleanor asked.
"I told him I was." I answered.
"Good, I would be mad if you didn’t! Lou told me that him and the boys were going to be out all night at a press party so I told him I would just stay with you tonight, yeah?"
"That’s fine, Emma is going to love that. I’m surprised she hasn’t begged you to already."
"She has…I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you…" Eleanor smiled. "I didn’t want you to feel like I was staying just to bug you with more information about Harry."
"I’m over it, we’re over it" I told her, pulling her into a hug. "I love you, El. You’ll always be my best mate."
"Aye! I thought I was!" Emma pouted, coming off of the dance floor.
“I’m 21, and I definitely show that I go out, and I’m, like, normal. I show pictures of my boyfriend sometimes,” she says with a subtle Long Island accent. “My followers love seeing the real life of someone who is in this glamorous fashion world but is a real person. Even, like, a picture of my shoes for the day will get a ton of likes on Instagram.” — Danielle Bernstein, the New York Post.