Not A Bad Thing

Finding One Another

-HARRY-

"Second line?"

"No, third line- second word."

Harry was with Avicii in his studio of Orlando.

Tim, aka Avicii, was giving Harry a great song, But Tim was pretty cool and hard to work with.

"Alright." Harry said, thinking of foul words.

"So, all....... of you.. Is the best I couldn't do.."

Harry kept singing, waiting for the moment he could leave

.

"See you later, Harry"

Tim was just as annoyed at Harry as Harry was with him; so they didn't congratulate one another for finishing the single today.

The song would be out in a few weeks after Tim "toyed and played" with Harry's voice.

Harry didn't care. Look at how Tim made Aloe Blacc millions off of one song he dj-ed.

"Okay," Harry said simply to Tim.

And Tim left in his black GMC.

Harry sighed dramatically with relief.

"Thank God."

Harry was never going to call that man unless he was with his bandmates with him. Harry was just.. awkward alone.

He shook his thoughts out of his head mentally and hailed a cab and started to the suite he was going to stay at.

.

.

Crowne Plaza

That's what the taxi window reflected. Onto Harry.

The rain poured outside. He didn't see rain as a sign of sadness or neglect, but as a sign of hope and inspiration.

In big letters, it might as well of said Amour and sat in the middle of Paris, France.

The cab jerked to a stop and Harry moved up from his laying down position and scrambled out of the car, paying quickly as he left.

He walked up to the rolling door and a bellboy underneath a fancy awning nodded him to go in.

He slid through the sliding door and made his way inside.

.
There was marble everywhere.

Marble floors. Chandeliers. Most of what Harry had seen before.

He walked over to the check in desk.

About 2 feet away from the desk, a man looked up at Harry. 'James'

His name tag said.

He had black tufted hair, and he was hefty.

He looked as tired as Harry.

But James put on a happy face. Probably because of the hotel's liberty and pride.

"Hi, can I help you?"

James smiled.

"Uh- hey. I'm here to check in."

Harry said, putting his hands in his pockets.

James sighed, like Harry hadn't met his standards and started to type on his Mac Desktop.

"Name?" He said, not looking up. Typing.

Uh- Harry. Styles."

"Alright. You are on time. Not too early and not late. Your suite slash loft is on the 8 th floor." James paused and handed Harry a key card.