𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍! | harry styles

𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈

SATURDAY passed uneventfully. Harry attended yet another support group. He was convinced it was no accident the meetings were held at night on the weekends and wondered if the powers that be thought it was the best way to keep him out of trouble. Although he didn't mind hearing the parole experiences of others, he didn't feel attending meetings for drug and alcohol addicts was beneficial to him at this point in his life. He decided to bring it up on Tuesday, when he would have a short one-on-one with his counselor.

It was midmorning on Sunday when Harry grabbed his map of potential employers from the counter and silently crept out the door, careful not to wake Bella or Matt. The three of them had played video games and once again watched movies late into the night, and he didn't want to disrupt either of them.

As Harry stepped outside into the weak winter sun, he slid on the sunglasses Matt had offered to let him use. They didn't quite cover the evidence of his run in with Isaac, but they were better than nothing.

Referencing the map every so often, Harry made his way down previously unvisited streets, stopping at businesses that seemed like feasible employment options. Though he believed actively searching for a job with his current appearance would prove to be fruitless, he decided there wouldn't be any harm in picking up applications. He could submit them once his face healed. At least, while doing this, it helped him not to feel like a complete leech.

After visiting countless cafés, coffee shops, and retail stores, Harry was both physically and emotionally exhausted. He bought a sandwich and bottle of water from a convenience store and relaxed on a park bench. His eyes scoured the map as he ate, searching for the best route back to Bella's. He was torn between taking the shortest way and the way with the most job opportunities. In the end, his fatigue won out, and he chose the path with the least amount of walking.

Harry hadn't gotten very far when the display window of a store caught his eye. He froze, staring at the items inside. Taking a step back, he looked up to read the sign over the door. Then he looked at his map. He frowned. Surely he would have noticed a place like this; he had specifically looked for one. He read the sign again.

BARNES' CHAMBER

He could barely contain his excitement as he stepped inside.

The store had a wide open floor plan with high ceilings. A wall of electric guitars greeted him as he entered, their shiny bodies glinting in the bright overhead lighting. Harry felt like a kid in a candy store. Amplifiers and speakers. DJ equipment and lighting. Drums and percussion. Walls of accessories and rows of sheet music. Sound proof rooms lined the perimeter of the store. It seemed to go on forever.

"Can I help you?"

Harry turned to look at the man who addressed him. He appeared to be older, but not by much. His warm smile faltered as he took in Harry's appearance—sunglasses worn indoors and a bruise peeking out from beneath them. Harry looked away quickly. "I'm just looking," he said quietly.

"Let me know if you have any questions." When Harry didn't respond, the man walked away.

Harry continued his journey through the store. He passed a display of string instruments and looked at them longingly. It had been years, but he could perfectly recall the feeling of bass strings pressing into his fingertips, a viola fitting snugly under his chin, the weight of a bow in his hand.

He passed by the brass and the woodwinds. Organs and keyboards. He spotted a Yamaha digital piano with a bright yellow sticker that read "used." Harry held his breath as he reached for the price tag; however, before he got a chance to look, a grand piano, elevated on a platform in the rear of the store, caught his eye.