How Liam Payne and Maya Henry met part 2 - The Saudi twins at Dolce & Gabbana Alta Moda 2018 and Cannes
He (Thomas Junior, Maya Henry's brother) shrugs and grins at me. “I made some new friends,” he says. “Shit, I need some coffee.” “You need rehab,” I (Maya Henry) say, grabbing a bottle of water from a countertop. I hold it out. “Drink this.” He twists off the top and glugs it down. “New friends?” I say. “Let me guess—models.” He raises his eyebrows. “Maybe one or two. But also the Saudi twins. Sheiks. This is their first Moda, so I figured they should have a good time.” “This is your first Moda too.” “Yeah, which is why I gotta make the most of it, right?"
“Hey,” says a voice, and I look up to see Oliver (Liam Payne), smiling at me. He’s nothing like I expect. Awkward, almost shy, looking up from under his lashes as he introduces himself—like I didn’t know who he was—and says he’s looking for my brother (Thomas Junior). I glance over my shoulder to where Junior is. He’s hard to miss—two feet away, talking loudly as he does shots with the twins (Abdullah Elkhereji and Khaled Elkhereji). “Oh,” says Oliver (Liam). “There he is.” Is he blushing? He looks me in the eyes for the first time, and I feel it everywhere. Then he’s talking fast, telling me he’s got to leave soon as the ship docks to make a flight, he’s got a recording session in London to make. His debut album is coming out, and there’s still a ton of tracks to finish recording . . . Why is he telling me all this? I wonder. Why does he seem so nervous? “So, before I left, I . . .” he says awkwardly. “Well, I wanted to get the name of your brother’s, uh . . . jewelry guy.”
How did I end up here? Two weeks ago, I was walking a runway at Moda Divino (Dolce & Gabbana Alta Moda 2018), one of the most exciting experiences I’ve ever had. In the time since, things have gotten even crazier, every day a whirlwind. It’s like I’m living a whole new life. And now, after all that, I’ve ended up in a random club in Monaco (Cannes), glass raised. I guess it doesn’t matter how I got here, I tell myself. Just live in the moment. “Cheers!” I say, and we drink. Two weeks since Moda, and it’s real. I’m not just thinking about New Mallory (Maya Henry). I’m becoming her.
Only when we were on the plane did I learn how this trip happened. Turns out, (Thomas) Junior kept in touch with the Saudi twins he met at Moda (D&G Alta Moda) , and they’d been in Monaco (Cannes) for some exclusive charity gala. After all the philanthropy and serious conversations, they were ready for some real fun. Guess they wanted to extend the trip, he told me. And thought I’d make it even more fun. It made sense that the twins liked Junior. For all their years of topnotch education in British schools, vast wealth, titles, and success in the cyber-commodities space—whatever that meant—they were easily bored. They longed for a distraction and adventure, and that, if anything, was Junior’s specialty. When they called and invited him to meet them in Monaco, of course he said yes. But they made another request as well. Bring your sister (Maya Henry), the twins said, describing me as the perfect juxtaposition to my wild brother. Calling me elevated and sophisticated. I hardly knew them, and I wasn’t the kind of girl who just jumped on a plane and went off on some wild trip with Junior into the unknown. But there I was, sitting next to him. Put on your lipstick now, he told me. Soon as we land, we’re headed straight to the club.
I can’t help but smile back. It was fun, and even with a hangover, I can’t deny the beauty of this place. We’re on the balcony of our hotel overlooking the Mediterranean, which is bright aqua. “Was I so drunk that I imagined . . . Oliver Smith (Liam Payne) was at the club last night?” I glance down at my phone, blushing. It wasn’t my imagination. “It was him,” I say. “He’s in Monaco!” My brother (Thomas Junior) smirks. “You knew?” “He was at that gala thing with the twins. Guess he got a invite and decided to come. He’s on a wellness kick, that’s what Razi (one of the twins) said, and he’s also really into philanthropy.” He leans forward, a familiar excited gleam in his eyes. “You know, I’ve been doing some research and it’s a really promising investment opportunity—” “Oh my God, Junior! I don’t care about cyber whatever. How come you didn’t tell me Oliver was there last night?” He shrugs. “I forgot. Didn’t even talk to him, really. Surprised you didn’t know. I mean, he’s staying here.” “In this hotel?” “Yeah,” says my brother. “Why, what’s the problem? You like him or something?” “What are we, twelve? I’m just embarrassed. I mean, he said hi and I didn’t recognize him.” “That’s okay,” says Junior. “You can apologize tonight.” “Tonight?” My brother leans back with a smug look. “The twins invited him for drinks,” he says, then gulps his champagne. “And I promised we’d be there.”
Then the most recent breakup (Liam Payne and Cheryl) —only a few months before Moda (D&G Alta Moda) — when she officially kicked him out. At least, according to sources. In other words, Oliver Smith (Liam) is back . . . and I should stay far away. Only problem? He’s at the club waiting for us. As our driver pulls up to the velvet ropes, I remind myself of all the things I learned. All the reasons Oliver Smith is bad news. Then I see him. Oliver is waiting for us in a booth, and he’s dressed to blend in— black T-shirt, jeans, hair cropped on the side and tousled on top—but it doesn’t work. The club, Baoli, is not as crazy as the place last night, lined with simple leather booths beneath a chandelier bathed in purple light, but even dressed down, Oliver stands out. The twins have already arrived, sitting next to him. I barely notice them. From the moment I enter the club, our eyes lock. Oliver smiles, and I feel myself smiling back. No, Mal. Keep it together. Remember, he’s just a playboy celebrity. Junior and I reach the booth, and the twins rise, greeting us with excitement and slapping my brother on the back like they’ve been separated by war. Next to them, Oliver stands quietly, eyes on me. He moves to make room in the booth, but I beat him to the punch, already sitting on the opposite side next to my brother. “Hey,” he says, leaning across the table. “Remember me now?” “Of course!” I say. “Sorry, I was a little drunk last night.” “That was my fault,” interrupts my brother. “It’s vacation! Speaking of which . . .” He’s already pulling a bottle from the ice and pouring drinks. The twins are laughing, already a few drinks in, and the next thing I know, there’s a drink in my hand. “A toast,” says Razi (one of the twins), lifting his glass. I glance over to where Oliver is lifting his water. He smiles and shrugs. “To Monaco!” says Razi, and we drink. For the next fifteen minutes, I listen to the twins talk watches and cars with Oliver and laugh at a story my brother tells. I smile to myself, check out the club around me, sip my drink until it is gone. Let Razi refill it and sip some more, then laugh and smile when the boys tease me about how drunk I was last night. I do everything I can to avoid Oliver’s gaze, which isn’t easy. Every time I glance in that direction, he’s watching me. When I catch him, I can feel his smile in my whole body, spreading through me with a surge of warmth. No, Mal. He’s a party boy, a player. Soon enough, my brother and the twins are getting rowdy, the drinks setting in. They ask Oliver about his upcoming album, his career. He’s been recording songs, he explains, his voice deep and sexy. Or maybe it’s just the British accent—not the kind we usually hear on trips to London, staying in fancy Mayfair hotels, or the pretentious, clipped dialogue from Abuela’s Downton Abbey marathons. Oliver speaks with an edge, throwing in street slang and the occasional swear, after which he glances apologetically to me, which I pretend I don’t see.
According to Instagram, one of the twins, Abdullah, is currently a racer representing Saudi Arabia (KSA). Looks like Liam Payne and Maya Henry are no longer in touch with the twins after the summer of 2018.