*Savannah's P.O.V*
I ended the piece, feeling. . . empty. Like I needed to do something else. I decided to play some One Direction. Now, before you go all crazy fan girl on me, I'm not obsessed with them. Yeah, I like their music, but I don't have millions of posters of them plastered all over my walls; I don't go all crazy over them. Plus, I'm a down-to-earth kind of person. Sure, I like to imagine fantasy things sometimes, but I don't imagine myself marrying them. I settled back down at the piano, putting my flute down on a nearby chair. I started talking to myself, trying to think up of ways to improve my technique on that piece. Too bad I don't have my guitar, I thought. I was learning how to play it, because it seems like a better way to relax and wind down instead of my usual way (which involves ice cream, a book, and some good music at 9:30 p.m). Maybe Riley would let me borrow hers. Anyway, I took a deep breath before hesitantly placing my fingers on the keys. I started playing the famous single, What Makes You Beautiful. After the opening rhythm, I started to sing along.

You're insecure, don't know what for, you're turning heads when you walk through the door,
Don't need make-up,
To cover up,
Being the way that you are is enough,
Everyone else in the room can see it,
Everyone else but you,
Baby you light up my world like nobody else,
The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed,
But when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell,
You don't know,
Oh oh,
You don't know you're beautiful,
If only you saw what I can see,
You'd understand why I want you so desperately,
Right now I'm looking at you and I can't believe,
You don't know,
Oh oh,
You don't know you're beautiful,
Oh oh,
That's what makes you beautiful.

I paused, my fingers hovering over the black-and-white keys. I thought I'd heard muffled voices. After waiting for a few minutes, I shrugged and started at the 2nd verse.

*Harry's P.O.V*
I whipped around and was face to face with a girl who was obviously as surprised to see me as I was. "Uh, I'm just, you know. . . chilling," I stuttered. The girl's eyebrows raised, and she started to smirk.
"Oh yeah? Then how come no one else is here with the famous Harry Styles?" She asked. I could feel my face turning red, and I could definitely sense her laser-blue eyes shooting daggers at me. Great job Styles! You escape the paps only to be questioned by a teenage girl in what appears to be an abandoned building. Smooth. I felt like punching myself.
"Fine, I was escaping some REALLY annoying people. What about you?"I said, turning the tables on her. I was really curious as to why this girl was here. She looked no older than 18, she was average height, her wavy blonde hair framed her slightly pale face, and she was wearing shorts and a jacket over her t-shirt. She bit her lip and shifted away from my gaze.
"Look, it's kinda personal, and it's for a friend. And she's also kinda shy, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything about hearing her sing." she said, nervously glancing at a door. I followed her eyes to see something resembling a music room. I pushed past her to get a closer look, and she tried to block off the entrance, even though I was too strong for her. But, she was pretty tough, even if she didn't look like it. I silently creaked open the door and saw someone else at a piano, and she was singing. A silver flute rested nearby on a chair, but there was no music on the stand or anywhere for that matter. I was impressed. This girl was really talented. My brow furrowed. Was this the shy person the other girl was referring to? She sure didn't look like she was shy. I was about to say something when I felt a really strong arm jerk me back.
"What did I just say?" She hissed.
"Who are you?" I asked. She rolled her eyes and sighed.
"I'm Riley Lynn, I'm in 12th grade, best friends with Savannah Greene, I love food and the color green. Anything else you need to know? Like where I live?" She asked sarcastically.
"Wait, best friends with who?"
"Savannah Greene. You know, the girl at the piano."My heart slightly jumped at the thought of her.
"Yeah, she's. . . amazing, and talented," I said, thinking of her singing. I'd managed to catch a glimpse of her. She was pretty tall; around 5'7", and had cascading ripples of wavy brown hair that framed her tan face. Riley's face clouded for a minute.
"I know, but, she. . . doesn't seem to think so," she said. I was about to respond when a voice called out from the room.
"Hey Riley? Do you mind if I borrow your guitar?" Riley looked like she'd seen a ghost.
"Riley?" I heard a few footsteps, like she was coming over here. I stood there like an idiot, just staring at the doorway. The door creaked open, and I saw her.