HARRY STYLES IMAGINES & ONE SHOTS

mom 'n pop shop

In which Harry Styles and his team travelled to a small village in Hawaii for their writing retreat instead of Jamaica.

It had been two weeks of straight writing for the crew, all gathered together under one roof with calloused hands but an ambition for music. It wasn't until the moment the power went out one cloudy but rainless day, depriving them of the light and electricity needed to power their instruments, when they finally decided to take a day off.

"Maybe this is a good thing! We're stripped of our inspiration; we need to go find it!" one proclaimed while the rest bellowed in agreement. Harry, however, like the hardworking man he is, thought otherwise and insisted that he should stay in and continue to vomit out all of his thoughts and ideas on paper. It took about three men; his producer, guitarist, and bass player to conspire their strengths and drag, quite literally, Harry out the front door and into the black SUV.

It ended up being a great day for all of them though. They spent the breezy day walking the beach and accumulating the motivation they needed to write three whole songs in the span of just a few hours. That was when they all decided to make this a ritualistic kind of thing in which every morning they will spend an hour or two at the beach and return back to the house for work.

Their day to day routine involved early morning wake up calls, kicking rocks on the sand of the beach, breakfast by the shore, home by lunch, and spending the rest of their afternoon writing and making wonderful music.

The drive back was what Harry enjoyed the most. He'd stare out the window at the busy village streets, people running about, kids chasing one another, and street vendors knocking on car windows. But it was one moment that occured every day that caught Harry's attention the most. At the very end of the street, where the strip of shops ended and the base of the hill where their house sat atop, was a lone mom 'n pop shop. It was situated in a cove of palm trees about 50 feet away from the gate to their house. The first time they drove by, Harry noticed a girl, a considerably pretty girl at that, unloading a truck of fresh fruits.

Every morning at eleven a green truck would stop by to drop off crates of fruit in which the girl would flounce out with a huge grin as she greets the old man. Her hair was regularly up in two braids and she always had those dirty worn out white converse she didn't help at all whenever she'd step in that big muddy puddle near the entrance.

She was a random sight at first, but that was until she smiled, Harry was then captivated. She looked so pure; so innocent.

The crew relied on postmates to deliver their groceries and everything and anything they needed to go about their busy lives. Harry didn't have an excuse to visit that mom 'n pop shop but he so wanted to.

One particular morning the rain was especially heavy with low rumbles of thunder sounding beyond the mountains and the skies full of dark clouds. The harsh waves of the ocean could even be heard from afar. So they all decided to stay in and maybe even get a few extra hours of sleep but Harry couldn't.

He sat perched up on the window sill, staring at the bottom of the hill at that lonely mom 'n pop shop. The street vendors closed for the day because of the typhoon warning. Yet the bright neon red "OPEN" sign stood out amongst the darkness of the roadway. Noticing the silence and inactivity of the house around him, Harry got an idea.

He pulled on his boots and a bright yellow raincoat, tugging the hood over his head of messy curls before yanking the front door open and letting in the crisp gust of typhoon wind. Harry noticed that the rain would stop every now and then due to a new grey cloud moving to hover over the small village, which then allowed him only a couple of minutes to run down the hill without getting drenched.