Harry pulled out his phone as we walked down the busy street. He typed in "Sushi Restaurant" into an app, pulling up dozens of search options. People rushing to get to places bumped into him and me. We both apologized quickly to numerous people, who just turned a deaf ear. Maybe if Harry took of his "disguise" they'd care more.
I'd glance up at him every now and then to see what they saw; a curly haired boy, wearing a pair of sunglasses, and a beanie. That’s all it took to take away his real identity. He went from Harry Styles, someone that everybody knew, to a regular boy that they would forget within seconds.

"There's a small cafe down the street. Is that okay?" he asked, getting slightly shoved by random people. Before I'd answer, he'd quickly apologize sincerely to the person as they continued to walk.
"That's fine," I replied.
We walked side by side, apologizing to deaf strangers, and talking about our lives.
I asked Harry what got him into music. He responded with, "Nothing got me into music. I've always loved it and it’s what I've always wanted to do,”
I could hear myself internally screaming because I thought the same.
"My parents never approved of me getting into the music industry," I said, "They wanted me to become a medical biller, or something like that. If I stayed with them I wouldn't be here, in New York, doing interviews, or receiving awards," I began to confess. Once I paused, I realized I was saying a bit too much and shut my mouth.
I peered up at Harry, who gave me a sad look. He looked upset with my words.
"My parents always supported me," he said, looking off into the sea of people who passed us by. I don't think he was trying to tell me that, though. The way he said it, quietly and to himself, almost made it seem like he was disappointed in the fact that he had the privilege of supportive parents.
Seeing that I upset, I changed the subject.
"What's England like?" I asked out of the blue. Harry's expression lightened a bit.
"England is beautiful. The country sides are very lovely, the people are usually polite, and it's a nice place to call home," he smiled.
"Where are you from?" I asked.
"Evesham," he replied. I didn't know where that was, but I smiled. I didn't want to be one of those Americans who only know what London is. "It's really small. I don't expect you to know where it is," he chuckled a bit.
"Well, I'm from Livonia. Its right next to Detroit, but it's so small in comparison. It's not deserted enough to be called a small town, but no one knows what it is," I stated.
"I've been to Detroit!" Harry exclaimed, "I have a feeling Livonia is nothing like Detroit,"
"No, Detroit’s this huge city with giant buildings and thousands of people. Livonia just has shops, fast food places, and small houses. It's more suburban," I explained.
"It sounds nice. I prefer small towns to big cities. They're nicer to live in while cities are just nice to visit. Like, I'd hate to live here. Everything’s always busy and fast pace," he said as we looked at the massive skyscrapers and people. I understood what he said and I agreed. As boring as Livonia is, I rather call it home than Detroit. "
"You'll have to show me around your town, one day," he smiled at me.
"Sure, if you show me around Evesham," I replied. Harry extended his hand, like we were making a deal. He gave me that cheeky grin. I accepted his grip and we shook hands on it.
"Okay then, next time I'm ever in Michigan, I'll visit you. You have to do the same though," he said.

As were continued our short walk, we talked about our music taste. It didn't really differ too much. Harry enjoyed classic rock music such as Elvis and Beatles, as well as stuff like Coldplay and Kings of Leon. I told him some of my musical influences. Some of the bands he loved, saying that they were his favorite, but other's he didn't know. He asked me to show him when we entered the sushi cafe.
It was a small, box-like cafe with about twelve tables set up around it and a bar where chefs made the sushi. For such a small restaurant, they had a lot of oriental decor. There were Japanese paintings set up all around, hanging from beige walls. Above the bar, nailed to wall, were Kabuki masks. The tables had cherry blossoms printed on the surface, stretching from the bottom left corner to outward. Something about the cafe made me feel a bit calmer, even though I was sitting across from Harry Styles. The fan girl inside of me bounced around joyfully as he looked at me with his adorable smile.
I hoped that my excitement didn't show on my face.

The waiter brought over a few menus and a check off list so we could mark what we want. He asked us for drinks, we both just wanted water, and then he left.
"Show me that band," Harry said as he flipped open the sushi menu.
I pulled my iPod out of back pocket and began scrolling down my list of bands. I tapped on the name "Sherwood" and then shuffle. "Song in My Head" began to play through my small, gray headphones. I handed them over to Harry. He placed one in each ear and then the music flow into his head. He still has his sunglasses, so I wasn't able to see his eyes. His expression looked calm, but I couldn't tell if he liked it or thought nothing of it. Then his head began to bob slightly and I could feel him tap his foot to the beat. A small appeared on his face as he took the headphones out of his ears.
"They're good," he said.
"Thanks," I replied. I felt a little special, knowing that we shared music interests.
"Show me more," he demanded, like a child with a new discovery. I chuckled, putting my iPod on shuffle. I called my iPod "MacKaye", so I'll be referring it as that.
Shuffling through bands like "Emery, Muse, and Armor for Sleep" played. He seemed to like what he heard, which made me happy.
He smiled at me kindly saying, "You have nice taste,"
I instantly began all flustered and giggled at his comment.
Then suddenly everything went black. Someone had turned off the lights of the entire world.