It's just an article {h.s}

Chapter 3

So I'm an idiot. It's been two days since the concert and I'm wallet less and soon to be unemployed. Harry is obviously not returning my wallet so I have no chance of getting an exclusive, which means that James will almost definitely fire me. And if that's not bad enough, without my wallet I literally can not do anything. God, I'm such an idiot, why in the world would I leave my wallet behind when I knew there was no chance that Harry would return it. I should have left something else like my phone or something that I could at least replace. Fuck how in the world am I going to replace my driver's licence. I bet this is bloody karma punishing me for lying. My mum always warned me that karma would get me in the end and I guess she was right.

Knock...Knock...Knock

Looking at my phone I wonder who the hell is at my door at 8:30 on a Saturday morning. And while it's raining no less! You know what, it's probably just my best friend Kayla coming to rant about her newest juice cleanse. At least I won't have to get out of my pj's to open the door.

I open the door and my jaw drops, like actually drops. Standing in front of me is Harry Styles, soaked to the bone, displaying his tattoos for the whole world to see, and holding my wallet.

"Hey, I'm sorry to drop in like this but I think this is yours? You left it at the show a couple of nights ago and I just thought that you might need it back. Sorry, I couldn't get it to you any sooner but work was so crazy and I couldn't get away. I would have sent an assistant to give it back but I thought after accidentally walking in on you the other day the least I could do was return this in person." He looks at me sheepishly and runs his hands through his hair as if he's embarrassed to have come. "Oh and also I thought that you might want these," He says as he hands me a white envelope along with my wallet. "I felt really bad after you left and I know this probably doesn't make up for what happened but...yeah." He runs his hands through his hair again, making me think it's a nervous habit of his. But why would Harry Styles of all people be nervous about giving me my wallet back?

I open the envelope and am shocked beyond belief. He got me two backstage tickets to his next concert. Without knowing it Harry has given me a chance to write this article after all! This concert could give me all the backstage knowledge on the band or even better could lead to me having unfiltered conversations with the boys. What if it sparks a 'friendship' between us! That would definitely lead to a page-turning, captivating read. Even as thoughts of my career race through my mind I can't help but think that Harry mustn't be as awful as the media makes him out to be. It was very sweet of him to come all this way in the rain just to give me my wallet when he could have just as easily sent someone else to do it for him. And to give me backstage tickets because he walked in on me changing! I can't imagine any other celebrities doing something like that. Maybe I judged him a little too harshly, I mean I should know better than to trust everything I read. He's probably still a playboy but maybe he's not as harsh as people make him out to be.

"Holy crap thank you so much you did not have to do this, it was an honest mistake I'm sure," I say, really playing up my gratitude. That being said I am grateful for these tickets just not in the way he thinks. "And thank you so much for returning my wallet, I had no idea where I lost it and was just coming to terms with the fact that I was never going to see it again."

I would probably get more out of this experience if I knew him before the concert though right? Maybe I could invite him in? It's also pouring with rain at the moment and as much as I don't like him I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to him either.

"Would you like to come in and have a coffee or something, I mean it's just raining so hard and I would hate for something to happen because you wanted to come out and give me my wallet back in person." Doubt starts to creep in as I realise that one, my house is definitely not ready for guests, two, I am still in my ratty pyjamas and three, I will have nothing to talk to him about if he actually accepts my offer. "Actually, forget I said anything that was a stupid idea. You're Harry Styles, you have better things to do."

"No actually I'm free for the next hour, I'd um love to come in."

"Ohh that's great!...um come in I'll um just yeah." Fuck what am I going to do, this was such a bad idea.

I move out of the way of the door to let Harry in and start casually making my way across the apartment, trying to secretly clean the room. It's not that dirty really, just a few misplaced items scattered around, but I would have preferred it to be cleaner. Harry either doesn't notice what I'm doing or is too kind to say, because he just follows me into the kitchen.

"Your apartment is really nice," he says, probably just to be polite but I appreciate the comment.

My apartment is definitely nice but in that classic New York way, with the exposed brick and giant windows that cover a full wall, nothing like the fancy hotel's Harry is probably used to. The large amounts of natural light paired with the high ceilings and loft bed quickly made this place one of my favourites in the world and I knew as soon as I first saw it that it was the only place for me. Of course the rent is way too high for a 21 year old fresh out of college, but I would settle for nothing less. Thank god James hired me otherwise I would probably either be drowning in debt or living on the streets.

"Thanks, um would you like a drink? I have coffee, tea and um...some orange juice?" I say while searching through my cupboards and fridge, trying to find anything suitable for Harry. It's not like I really care what he thinks and realistically, he can't have that high expectations considering I'm a 21 year old in New York, but I can't have him thinking I'm a slob.

"Oh coffee would be great thanks"

Harry sits down at the bench as I prepare the coffee and I am again struck with the reality that this is going to be so awkward. It's clear that neither of us really know what to say to each other so we sit in uncomfortable silence for what seems like forever.

"You're welcome to walk around, sorry it's a bit messy." I offer in an attempt to break the silence. While it won't start a conversation between the two of us it will at least mean that we're not sitting there looking at each other in silence.

"Don't worry about it my hotel rooms are usually way worse," he replies as he gets up and starts to walk around my apartment while I wait for the coffee to brew. He comes to a stop at my large bookshelf and seems to browse through my collection, obviously judging me based on my taste in books.

"Hey is that 'The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle' by Haruki Murakami?"

"Humm..oh yeah I love his books. That ones one of my favourites actually along with '1Q84'." Haruki Murakami has been a favourite author of mine for years now but I haven't found anyone else who shares my passion for his works. Honestly I'm just impressed Harry knows his work, he doesn't seem like the type.

"Really? I love his works too! I really enjoyed both 'The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle' and '1Q84' but my personal favourite is 'Norwegian Wood'."

"Yes! It was such a compelling read, especially because of its discussion of the time periods contemporary politics and social action."

We spend the next 45 minutes discussing the ins and outs of Murakami's novels, heatedly debating the symbolism and meaning throughout his work and are only stopped when Harry has to leave for a press event. Funnily enough, I actually really enjoyed spending time with him. much more than I thought I would anyway, and I'm almost sad to see him go. Surprisingly, and even though I don't want to, I find myself excited to see him again at his concert.