The camera man set up a small, portable camera outside of Harry's hotel room door. A producer of the show we were filming for gave us a rundown of what was going to happen. Harry would open up the door and greet the camera man as naturally as possible, saying hello to all of the viewers. I'd had to do the same, but the producer made it obvious that Harry would be the focus point of this segment. The tall, dark haired man told us to get ready because they would begin filming soon. As he said that, he exited the room. There wasn't much to prepare for. All we had to do was be ourselves. It should've been easy enough.

The producer gave us a count down from behind the thick door. As he slowly counted backwards from five, Harry looked down at me and flashed me a quick half smile.
"Nervous?" he whispered with his crooked smirk.
"Not at all," I replied, flashing him an identical grin. It was a lie though; my stomach spun circles and did a hundred twists.

There was an overactive circus putting on a full performance inside of my body. I was flooded with thousands of different emotions, but it wasn't because of the cameras, viewers, or show. The fact that I was standing so close to Harry; someone that I felt so strongly for. I couldn't seem to keep my emotions buried. They found some way to float back up the surface and turn my cheeks a scarlet red. My eyes were fixed on the door as I waited for the count to reach zero. When the producer hit the number, Harry pinched my cheek and whispered, “Liar” before opening the heavy door.
“Hello!” Harry cried as the bright lights of the camera hit our faces. I had to squint slightly, before I caught myself, but Harry was completely unaffected. “Welcome, to my hotel room in beautiful New York city. I am here with my good friend, Sadie Manson,” Harry peered down at me with his welcoming smile.
“Hello,” I squeaked timidly with a slight wave.
“Adorable,” he quickly commented, with a slight nudge of my shoulder, “we are about to get all bundled up and head out to our favorite stores. Why are we doing that, Sadie?”
“We’re going to play a little bit of dress up,” I took on the work of speaker, “Harry gets to pick out clothes that he wants me to wear, making me all pretty, and what not. I get to dress him in whatever I want,” I looked up at him as my lips curled into a mischievous smile.
“I’m terrified,” he nervously smiled back at me with a comical shakiness in his voice.
His eyes met mine as he smiles back to one another. I could find my face flooding with shades of colors. I had to turn my head away from the camera for a second in order to keep my embarrassing blushing face hidden.
“Don’t be scared, I’ll take care of you,” I patted him on the back.
He peered down at me with narrow eyes, while saying, “I don’t trust you,”
I gave the camera a defeated smile before the producer called cut.
“Do you have your jacket and everything?” he called as he stepped forward, inside the room.
“I do,” Harry raised his hand as if he was in school again.
“Mines in my room,” I replied. The producer sighed and told me to go get it.

I ran down the hallway as fast as I could to retrieve my black and white petticoat from my hotel room. I felt as though the producer was already disappointed in me even though I didn’t do anything wrong. I guess it’s unprofessional to be unprepared.
Once my coat was button all the way up and I had a scarf wrapped tightly around my neck, the cameras began rolling again. I was back in Harry’s room getting ready to leave the hotel. Before the blinding light flashed on in our faces, the producer shouted action. It felt like we were on a movie set for a moment. Harry of course took the lead.

“We are about to head out the street to start our shopping, but I just can’t get this damn thing on,” Harry explained as he fumbled around with cream colored scarf. He had been working with it for a few moments as he got ready. He had tried tying it every way, but he couldn’t get it right. He looked at me with wide, hazel puppy dog eyes and asked me to help him.
Like a wife helping her husband with a tie, I flipped the scarf around, and tied it the proper way. He gave me a polite and gracious smile when I was finished.
“You ready?” I asked him. He gave me an excited nod. With that we left the hotel.
The cameras followed us down the elevator as we discussed the different stores we wanted to head to. We didn’t want to say names, in order to keep them a surprise, but we talked about location. Most of his stores were centered in Time Square, so we could make them in one trip. Mine were scattered around the area and would be harder to find.

Once we were on the streets, the cameras followed behind us, but we almost forgot. Harry and I began talking and joking like we would even if they weren’t there. We went back to being friends. It was like we were just hanging out in New York, like the day the accident happened.
When the reminder twinkled in my mind, I instantly rejected it. I remembered the pain I felt as the car collided with my body. I remembered Harry throwing himself on top of me, like a super hero, trying to protect the pathetic damsel. I remember the hospital, the casts, and all of the gifts I received when Harry visited me. I didn’t want the pain of my memory to show on my face, so I pushed it from my mind. I stored it in a vault for remembrance later. When I was tucked away in my bed, I’d allow my brain to flood.
Harry and I walked around, looking for boutiques and stores for about twenty minutes before Harry stopped. “Cover your eyes!” he shouted surprisingly. He placed his hands over my eyes as slowly guided me to the entrance of the store.
There was a strong, overwhelming cloud of perfume and cologne that hit my nose. It made me nauseous, but I had to bear it. Though my eyes were closed and covered by Harry’s giant hands, I could see bright artificial lights through my eyelids. I had a guess of what the store would look like. It had to carry clothes opposite of my style. They had to be girlie, fashionable, lightly colored articles of clothing hanging on racks and folded neatly on shelves. The lights would be overbearing and bright, and they have to sell a lot of perfume. The sound of a crowd, or many people, echoed through the room. So, it had to be a fairly popular store. Then again, we were in New York so it could just be interesting.
“Ready?” he asked, his lips almost touching my ear.
As a quaking chill ran down my spine, I stumbled on the word, “yes” but managed to whisper it out.
He pulled his hands away, allowing me to view the enormous store that he walked in. All eyes were on us because he was Harry Styles and we were being followed by a camera crew. Girls around the room were gasping and whispering to each other. The store manager quacking jogged up to us and greeted us with a wide, overjoyed grin. I guessed the producer called her beforehand because it seemed as if she was expecting us.

I couldn’t see the sign outside, but it didn’t matter because the name of the store was plastered on her shirt. It was plastered on every shirt in there. “Hollister” in almost every color, on every shirt, and every fragrance. I didn’t loathe the store, but I still sighed harshly when I realized where I was. This caused my partner to laugh. Hollister was a store that I’d avoid at the local mall. They never had clothes that I liked, unless they were pants, but I could probably find identical ones for thirty dollars less somewhere else. I also didn’t find the appeal in wearing the brand’s name on all of your clothes. It’s one thing to place it on the tag, but on every shirt and tank top. Isn’t that a little much?
But I digress, because it didn’t matter how I felt about the store because I would have to wear their clothes if Harry picked them out for me. I hoped he’d at least try to find something original or unique.
The perky and young manager greeted Harry and I with an energetic smile. Her straight, pearly white teeth were fully exposed as she became a victim to the fact that she was star struck. She had these deep brown eyes that glistened with un-concentrated excitement and joy. Her long, light brunette hair bounced as she tried to calm her quivering nerves. Usually, I’d right her off as a fan girl and ignorantly laugh at her, but I knew how she felt. I felt the exact same way, but amplified by about two-hundred percent.
“Hello, welcome to Hollister,” she smiled vibrantly while shaking our hands and ignoring the chattering group around her, “we cleared out the top floor for you. Our best clothes are up there, handpicked by staff for what would look good on you,” she said. I admired the way she could hold such a polite smile though she was literally trembling with joy.
Leaving the crowd behind, we followed her up the two escalators to the third floor. The room was full of lightly colored wooden shelves, stacked with different shades of blue jeans, and tops. There were long sleeved shirts, tees, and tank tops of every color. Various jackets, hoodies, and coats hung on racks next to hundreds of scarfs. An assortment of makeup and perfumes were lined up on a table, ready to be picked. Though I didn’t like the store and I never shopped there, my internal girlie girl squealed a bit at all of the options. I guess it didn’t matter what style it was, if you put clothes in front of me, I’ll want to shop.

“Sadie, you can’t pick what you like. I have to pick out what I like,” Harry reminded as he witness the twinkling in my eye.
“Alright,” I quickly nodded.
“Go into the dressing room and wait for me. I don’t want you to see what I get,” he ordered. I obeyed and locked myself in one of the empty dressing rooms, waiting for Harry to pick me out an outfit.
After a few minutes he came knocking on the door. I expected him to throw me a pile of clothes, but he just said, “I couldn’t find anything that I really liked, so we’re going to a different store,” which allowed me out of my confinement.
When I walked out of the dressing room, I spotted a small brown bag in Harry’s hand. “I thought you couldn’t find anything,” I mentioned as we made our way to the escalators.
“This is makeup,” he smiled cutely, but behind it I saw the prankster dancing in his eyes.
“You’re not doing my makeup!” I protested as we road down the stairs.
“I have to,” he teased me, allowing his tongue to poke out his goofy smile.
We exited the shop and ventured to two others before Harry could compose a full outfit. He didn’t tell me exactly what he bought, but I knew he had something brewing in those bags. Thankfully, it was my turn now. I was able to take Harry to whatever store I wanted to and pick out whatever I want. It was like giving a child unlimited access to a candy store and an amusement park at the same time.
We had to take a taxi to my store, Trash and Vaudeville, because it was so far away. I told him the name, because I knew he had never heard of it before. I got some of clothes from there when I was in New York. They’re stuff is expensive, but I think they’re worth it.
While we were in the yellow van, being driven to Trash and Vaudeville, the cameras caught Harry and me talking about his new wardrobe. A thousand images ran through my head as I pictured him in alternative clothes. He gave me an uneasy look as he asked, “What do you have planned for me?”
I gave him a sly smile and replied, “I’m not too sure yet, but I’ve always wanted to see you in punk clothing,”
“What does that mean?”
“A bit of this, a bit of that. Maybe a touch of eyeliner, temporary hair dye, leather, fish net,” I toyed with him as I twirled a curl around my finger. His face got grimmer as more words flew out of my lips. I couldn’t help but laugh at him.
“I want to get out now,” he whined jokingly.
I clapped my hands together as I laughed at him. He was too cute. He eventually smiled back at me, reassuring the viewers that it was all a joke. “I don’t have to wear eyeliner though, right?” he asked.
“Maybe,” I replied as the taxi came to a halt.

Trash and Vaudeville was a small shop tucked deep between two buildings. It was hard to spot if you weren’t looking for it. The sign was rather small and the bright pink neon lights didn’t exude much light in the day. It was made up of two levels. The top level was mainly clothes, while the bottom level held all of the shoes and accessories. I decided with going to the top level first.

“Do I have to close my eyes?” Harry asked as we approached the front door.
“No, you’re fine,” I replied.
When we walked through the door we were greeted by the store owner, Johnny (A/N: Johnny and this store are real. If you ever get the chance to visit, go, their clothes are amazing). He was a character. I remembered him from my first visit a few years back. His hair was long, blonde, and rather damaged from all of the straightening and bleaching he did. He was old, but still dressed in “hip” clothes from his store. His skin was tan, worn, and wrinkled. The creases on his face told the stories of the hard ships he faced in life. He’s seen punk live, die, and be reborn.
He was rather funny. He’d always crack jokes with customers and make them feel welcomed in his store. That day he dressed in a tight, bright pink fish net long sleeved shirt, with a tattered Ramones shirt over it. His jeans were regular, blue, skinny jeans but there were holes and tears all over the legs. It wasn’t really something that you wanted to wear in the harsh winter, but he didn’t flinch. I suppose his skin was thick from living with New York winters for so long.
He gave us both a large smile as he shook both of hands with excitement. He seemed happier to see me than Harry, which was strange. I was so use to being in Harry’s shadow that it was weird to see someone that wanted to meet me. I’d have play shows in order to see people who wanted to see me. I wasn’t very famous, but I was known. People didn’t stop when they saw my face, like they would with Harry. To see Johnny overjoyed to shake my hand, it surprised me. I wasn’t sure how to react. I glanced at Harry for some advice, but he was speechless as his eyes wandered around the room.

“Welcome, welcome,” Johnny said quickly as the smile remained on his face.
“Thank you,” I replied politely.
“Congratulations on the award and I’m so glad to see you’re better,” he said. I couldn’t help but smile at that. It was so sweet and sincere.
“Thank you once again,” I chuckled, unable to say much else.
“I’m a big fan of your music. You’re so talented so such a young girl,” he added before turning around to show us his collection of clothes, “Go ahead and take a look. Everything you see is for sale. We’ll have something for you, I promise,” he smiled at Harry before bowing and taking his place behind the glass counter.
Harry and I walked throughout the store, flipping through stacks of shirts, racks, and what not. I’d occasionally pull out something silly and bring it to Harry’s attention. I took a pair of extraordinarily tight, red, snake skinned, skinny jeans off of the rack and held them up to Harry’s legs. He instantly jumped back and began protesting.
“I’m not wearing that!” he chuckled I disbelief that I’ve even take out something so atrocious, “I’m not,” he said once again in a more serious tone.
“Just try them on,” I begged with big, blue puppy dog eyes.
“Don’t do that to me. Don’t give that look,” he replied, trying not to smile.
“If you try them on, I won’t buy them for you,” I offered.
He sighed, “I’m going to have to wear them either way,” as he closed his eyes and grabbed the pants, defeated.
He dragged his feet as he walked to one of the colorfully decorated dressing rooms, locking himself in. Each of the four doors was covered in some kind of strange fabric. One was a dark blue snake skin, another leopard print, one was covered in black pleather and silver studs, and the last one was ruby red, crushed velvet. Harry of course took the crushed velvet. I stood next to the door with my back against the nearby wall. The camera zoomed into my face as I waited for him to come out.
He made a few noises that sounded like he was in pain. I couldn’t help but giggle.
“It’s crushing my things!” Harry cried in the highest voice I’ve heard escape him.
I closed my eyes and clinched my sides as I began to laugh too hard for my body to control. My ribs ached from the amount of laughter.
“Are you okay?” I managed through my giggling fit.
“It feels like I have a snake around my parts,” he whined.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” I chuckled dishonestly.
“Liar!” he playfully yelled. He poked his head up over the door, “You’re letting this happen?” he screeched with a painful smile.
“Come on out, let’s see what we’re dealing with,”
“You guys might want to blur some of this. These pants don’t leave much to the imagination,” he warned as he exited the dressing room.
He stood in front of the door reluctantly, his hands modestly covering his sensitive area. The pants really didn’t leave a lot to imagination. They were practically sewn onto his body. The fabric was restricting and clung to his skin like latex. I could see everything. His calves, thighs, and bottom were in perfect view, as if he was naked.
“Do you want to do a spin?” I asked through my excess laughter.
The handsome boy shot me a death glare before doing a slow, unwanted turn.
“It feels like I’m literally being choked out,” he complained.
As he did, Johnny strutted over with a grin on his face, “Let’s see what we have here,” he smiled, pulling up his own pair of skinny jeans.
“I can’t handle this,” Harry complained the humored owner.
“Of course you can; they grow on you,”
“They shrink!”
“This is too good,” I chucked to myself as tears fell from my eyes, “I’m so sorry,”
“You are not!” Harry smiled at me, beginning to laugh himself, “Oh God, it hurts to laugh,” the comment made him laugh harder though.
“Put the poor boy out of his misery, darling,” Johnny asked politely, examining the pain that Harry was in.
“I release you from your torment,” I said humbly. As the words escaped my lips, Harry ran into the dressing room and pealed the snake skinned jeans off of his strangled legs.
When he stepped out for the last time he muttered, “You’re evil,” before rustling my hair.

I got serious (somewhat) and actually looked through the racks for decent clothes. They had many things that would look good on Harry, but it was hard to pick just one outfit. I knew that Harry was fond of flannel and the store had dozens of shirts. I wanted to find something that suited his body, but was the opposite of his style. That’s when I found these buttoned up flannel shirts that had this stained grunge look to them. The one I grabbed was dark purple, with a light pink stain on the bottom that wrapped around the shirt. The pink stains (made to look like bleach) shot all around the shirt, like electricity. Harry was far off away from me, looking through the clothes out of curiosity. I held up the shirt to his height, without him looking. I liked the way it looked. I picked out a pair of black skinny jeans with suspender straps hanging from the back. They were very “punk”. The random horizontal zippers up the thighs and suspenders would give Harry an “edgier” look. I put the shirt and pants together and smiled. It made me imagine a darker Harry. He could be a boy in a rock band, playing guitar or screaming on vocals. He already had tattoos, but imagine him with full sleeves, neck tattoos, and piercings. The image made me smile humorously.
In the front of the store, there were cases full of accessories that I took advantage of. I purchased a silver necklace with a bullet pendant, two metal studded bracelets, and a D-ring belt that was a size too big. It would softly hang off his hip in a sexy way that would look nice. As I approached the front counter to buy all of the items in my hand, the producer stood in front of me and allowed the young cashier to swipe his card.
“Wait!” I cried quickly as I grabbed four packets of temporary hair dye.
I decided to buy Harry some comb through dye. Two were black (the packets were very small) and two were dark blue. They had to be dark enough to cover up his dark brown hair. If they had fake piercings, I’d probably snatch those up too, but he had already endured enough pain.
We had to go to the bottom level to pick up shoes. I had a hard time choosing since the walls were literally covered in different boots, sneakers, and heels.
“Harry!” I called as I looked at two different pairs of shoes.
“Yeah?” he called back from a distance since he wasn’t allowed to be around me when I picked out clothes.
“Are you a creeper or boots kind of guy?” I asked.
“What the hell is a creeper?” he asked in a thick accent.
“Creeper it is,” I smiled as I put down the pair of van sneakers.
Creepers are a pair of laced up shoes, like loafers, but with a small platform on the bottom. They look like a mix between a dress show, sneaker, and loafer. The ones that I picked were black and made of leather.
Now it was finally my turn to be dressed. I carried the heavy bag of gothic, punk, alternative clothes to the van as Harry contemplated a new store. The producer helped with a few stores, depending on the style he wanted to dress me in. They came to the conclusion that we’d stop at a place called “Thrifty 21”. They apparently sold anything you could ever need clothing wise. They had club wear, hipster clothes, girlie clothes, dresses, formal attire, and more further in the back. I was scared of what Harry would pick out. He had too many options. That “kid in a candy store” look gleamed in his eyes again as he ran through the store for items. I didn’t know what he grabbed until we were back at the hotel, but I could tell by the look on his face that he was rather proud of the outfit he assembled. He even looked at the make-up for a minute or two.

Back at the hotel, we stood in Harry’s room as the camera crew step out their equipment on a tri-pod. Harry and I took this time to prepare ourselves in the mirror. We had to share the bathroom mirror, but his room was so big that it was okay. The mirror stretched about ten or fifteen feet long and four feet high. We could’ve packed five more people in there with room to spare. The British beaut to my left combed out and re-did his hair like a professional would. He made brief model-like poses to his reflection, which was cute. All I could do was brush, re-straighten, and run my fingers through my hair. I couldn’t model like Harry. He had people teach him how, while I had to rely on the grace of a photographer. It was amazing how he could look completely normal for a few seconds and then strike a pose another second later; another admirable thing about Harry.

“We’re ready for you,” a crew member called.
We left the bathroom and stood in front of the camera. Harry smiled at me with a quick wink before greeted the viewers again.
“Welcome back to my hotel room!” he smiled at the camera with a big, handsome, goofy smile, “We have done all of our shopping and now it’s time for the reveal. We will now swap bags,” when he said this traded shopping bags, “go into separate rooms and try our new wardrobe,”
We did just as he said. I was able to use to bathroom while he hid behind a wall that was in a side room. Harry had bought be a pale pink blouse that tied around my waist, revealing my stomach, a pair of light blue, cut off shorts, with round studs on the pocket, and thick black leggings. I threw the outfit on, examining myself in the mirror. Though it wasn’t exactly my style, I liked the way I looked. There were no chains, straps, vicious studs, or flashy anything. I looked normal.
The outfit came with a black fedora that I rested on my head, smiling brightly. In the bottom of the bag, Harry threw in some make up. I wasn’t sure how to apply it unless I was supposed to do it like I usually do, but it didn’t fit what we were supposed to do.
A make-up artist knocked on the door, asking if I was decent. I allowed her in and get instantly went to work. There was no small talk because she was done so quickly. She applied a thin line of eyeliner, carefully smudging it around my eyes to give me a mysterious, light, smoke-y look. She get put on mascara, and deep red lipstick. By that point, I almost couldn’t recognize myself. The make-up I was use to wearing was heavy, dark, and thick. This was very light and pretty. The girl starring back at me was a beautiful stranger that I would like to meet again.
I stepped out before Harry did. The producer didn’t want me on camera before Harry, so I had to wait patiently on the sidelines while Harry finished getting ready. When he arrived, he didn’t look like himself either. He looked like a rock star from a scary band. The make-up artist even took make-up to his face, lining his eyes with a black eye pencil.
“This is weird,” he commented as he looked at me, “you look very nice though,” he examined the outfit he picked out for me.
“You look nice too,” I smiled back, my heart fluttering at his compliment.
The next step was to do Harry’s hair on camera. I sat him down in a chair and ran the dye through his pleasant curls. I could almost hear all of the One Direction fans crying as I disgraced Harry’s signature curls with my cheap hair dye. I colored most of it black and the bangs the navy blue. It was supposed to sit for fifteen minutes before I had to wash it out. Then I had to blow dry it and straight it out, once again, girls around the world cried for him. He looked like a proper punk when I was done with him. His hair was black and blue; he was wearing grudge-y flannel, black skinnies, black, leather shoes, studded accessories, and eyeliner. I wonder what this could do to his image. Did I ruin it? The producer seemed to like the switch as he smiled at us as we finished our segment.
As I straightened Harry’s hair we had a quick conversation that the camera recorded.

“What do you think of my new look, Sadie?” Harry asked as I ran the straightener through his hair.
“I like it. You look very different,” I replied, trying not to burn the boy.
“Would you date me if I looked like this?” he quested with a cheeky smile.
“I’d date you either way,” I decided to be honest to see how he’d react.
“Don’t you have a type?”
“I don’t have a physical type. I don’t care a guy wears as long as he’s comfortable with his appearance,” I explained carefully.
“So you would date me?” Harry asked again.
“Uhh….” I froze up as I fixed his hair, “Would you date me?” I turned the tables.
“If you dressed like this or in general?”
“In general,” I replied. I tried to hold in my furious blushing.
“I think the same way you do. Appearance really doesn’t matter as long as you’re confident, kind, and intelligent,” he dodged the answer like I did. I guess it would remain unanswered.
While I finished his hair I revaluated my personality. Was I confident, kind, and intelligent? I was rather smart and I always did my best to be a good person, but my confidence was weak. I had a history with depression so my self-esteem had flat-lined at a young age. Maybe I wasn’t the girl for Harry, but I could’ve sworn that he looked up at me and smiled.
The end of segment was of Harry and me commenting on our new clothes.
“They’re a little restricting,” Harry claimed, “but it’s a nice look I think, if I ever want to change up,”
“Same here,” I agree, not really having much to confess about my look.
With nods and friendly smiles, the filming ended for the day. This wasn’t the end of the segment. Tomorrow, Harry and I had to go out on the town in our new clothes and see how people reacted. I had a feeling people would worry more about my co-star than me, but it would be nice to get out with him.

The camera crew, producer, and make-up artists left, leaving Harry and I in our foreign clothes.
“What now?” Harry smiled turning my way. It was still strange seeing him look so different.
“I was going to head back to my room and get ready to retire,” I explained nervously. He was rather close to me and his smile was so enchanting.
“No! Stay with me,” he tugged on my hand playfully, “It’s barely night out,” he begged.
“What would we do?” I stuttered as my body fluttered weakly under his gasp.
“We could order some movies and food,” he looked down at me with lovely, wide, hazel eyes that sparkled with his childish beckoning.
“Who could deny that face,” I said as he quivered his bottom lip.
I playfully pitched his cheek. He smiled his beautiful grin.
We ended up ordering Inception and the Dark Knight movies, though we’d never be able to finish them all. The filming ended at seven and each movie was at least two hours long, if not more. We’d be done by 3 in the morning. That didn’t stop Harry from ordering a huge pepperoni pizza and a few burritos from the restaurants by the hotel. A beautiful thing about New York was that almost every delivered. I’ve seen a few McDonalds’s that delivered. It’s a beautiful sight.
We set up a small movie area in the living room of Harry’s suite. Did I mention how insane our rooms were? I probably should’ve. We were each given “King Luxury Bedroom Suites” that were bigger than my house. They each had a bedroom with a king sized bed, 40” plasma screen T.V.s, and the biggest bathroom I have ever seen. For some reason, the bathroom had an all-around glass shower fit for four people, a Jacuzzi styled bathroom fit for at least ten people, and two sinks, along with the mammoth mirror. There was a living/dining area that could take over the first level of my meager house. There were two bright red pull out couches, bigger than my bed at home, a fifty inch plasma screen T.V., a full sized kitchen, a dining table that could fit all the knights at the round table. There was more than enough room to shelter a small village in one hotel room. It boggled my mind when I first stepped in. All together (I looked this up) one room was 1954 sqft.
Though there were two couches, Harry sat close to me on one. I offered to move to other one so he’d have more room, but he just called me silly and pinched my nose. The first movie we watched was Inception. I already saw it because it was so popular and I had watch it in my Psychology class.
“I’ve actually never seen this before,” Harry admitted as he shoved a burrito in his mouth. I could’ve called him a pig, but I folded two slices of pizzas on top of each other and ate them at once.
“I’ve seen it like, twice,” I replied before stuffing my own face.
“Don’t spoil anything, please,” Harry whined.
“I won’t,” I said as I stretched my pinky finger out for a “pinky promise”. Harry took it and smiled.
“Want me to get a blanket? It’s chilly,” he offered.
“Sure,” I replied.
When he came back, he only had one. I thought he’d bring two, but I guessed we would have to share. He didn’t mind, so why should I; other than the fact that I was slowly, but rapidly falling for him. The thought of sitting under the same blanket with Harry caused my petty heart to fluster. My stomach twirled into nervous knots. I tried to regain my composure, but the moment he draped the heavy, red blanket over my body, my face brightened to the same scarlet shade.
“Are you okay?” Harry asked cautiously, feeling my head with the back of his hand.
“Yeah, I’m perfectly fine. Don’t worry about me, sweetie,” I stumbled together in a fit of nervous rambling, “You’re too kind,” I smiled weakly.
“You’ll make me blush,” he mocked, seeing as my face was already covered in red and heat.

I was tempted to cover my face with the blanket the entire movie, but I really enjoyed it. It wasn’t my fault that Harry got me so worked up. Just being so close to him scared me in a way. My body was completely out of my control, leaving me to shiver. My tongue twisted into incomprehensible knot. I’d spew random words that probably weren’t even English, but I’d try to fumble together a cohesive sentence. My face would flush a violent crimson cover, like I was standing in front of a fire pit. I constantly feared that I’d do or say something wrong. I was always in danger of embarrassing myself in front of this cool, usually calm, and charming boy. I could feel my heart beat pumping out of my chest, cracking my fragile ribs in the process. He weakened me in every way. My senses dulled, my emotions were horribly exposed, my body felt like glass, and my mind became jumbled. All I wanted to do was take his hand and lace our fingers together, but even take became an impossible task. I wanted to be close to him on a physical level. How could I ever expect to achieve that? He was out of my league in the worst way possible. A strange girl from a small town in Michigan, who plays in a rock band that got lucky couldn’t ever dream of being in a relationship with Harry. Even after our encounter at the hospital I knew he was too good for me. He became more human in a sense, but he was impossible even as a human. I went from the pathetic girl meeting a celebrity, to the friend with a crush.
Either way I couldn’t win, so I took my place. I’d remain a shaking mess, sitting next to him as we watched movies and ate pizza and Mexican food. This was where I belonged. It would make for great material for our new album though.
Harry sat in almost absolute silence as the ending of Inception came closer. His eyes were wide pools of excitement and anticipation. His mouth hung slightly opened as he inched closer to the end of the couch. I rested back and watched him closely, trying not to laugh. I won’t spoil the movie for you, but the way he reacted was too funny.
He jumped from his couch and smiled, yelling, “That was fantastic! What’s next?” eager to continue our marathon.
“Batman Begins,” I replied.
“I haven’t seen this one either,”
I was almost offended. The Batman movies were my favorite series, next to Harry Potter.
“How?” I exclaimed with wide eyes.
“I saw the second one, I just never have the time to finish or start it. I guess I never got around to it,”
“But they’re so good!”
“I wouldn’t know, would I?” Harry chuckled as he played the movie, “What’s this one about, so I’m not confused,”
“Basically, it’s the origin of Batman. His parents die, he falls into this vengeful depression and the reinvents himself as he matures into the Dark Knight, Batman,” I explained carefully, trying to expose any key points of the movie.
“Who’s the villain?”
“Scarecrow and Raj al Ghul,” I replied.
“Who?”
“Harry Styles…” I said sternly, “you don’t know who Scarecrow or Raj is?” I was one of those people who have the comic books, movies, and watched the cartoon religiously as a child.
Harry shook his head with puzzlement. All I could do was pat him on the chest and shake my head with disappointment.
“Watch and learn, darling,” the opening began as I sat back to enjoy the movie.
Harry watched intently again. I noticed he got this way during movies. He’d turn to me and make jokes, as did I, but any other time we was submerged in the storyline.
“Now who’s the girl that he’s secretly in love with?” Harry asked, not taking his eyes away.
“Rachel, the little girl he was playing with in the beginning,”
“So they’re in love,” he inferred.
“Secretly, but you saw the second movie,” I explained.
“No!” Harry cried, “They were meant to be!”
“But she chose Harvey!” I yelled back.
“They could’ve been happy together,” Harry whined like a young girl finding out that Bella picks Edward over Jacob.
“But he’s Batman and wouldn’t be able to handle family life and protecting Gotham,” I explained sincerely.
“That’s so sad. If someone is in love, they could be with the person they love,” his words struck a chord, causing my heart to stop.
It felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I was really holding my breath. My chest went numb since my heart had no idea what to do. My brain became a jumbled mess again. Was that a hint for me to tell him? Was that a sign from God or something?

As Harry turned to the movie again, I contemplated my options. I could tell Harry how I felt towards him, which could either be amazing or horrible. I could also contain my emotions in a tiny bottle, bubbling inside of me until it eventually explains. I rather wait for the explosion than suddenly ruin our friendship. I remained quiet through most of the movie as my mind ran in circles. How could one boy make me feel this way? It was pathetic and almost tragic. I hated it, but enjoyed it at the same time; another confusing factor to our relationship.
The ending was close, but suddenly the lights began to flicker before shutting off completely. The T.V. was left a blank, black screen, and the room was dark as night. Harry let out a sigh as he sprang up from the couch, throwing the blanket.
“It must be a blackout,” he guessed as he walked over to the door. When he opened it, the hallway appeared eerily dark. I couldn’t see the faint glint of emergency lights. “The entire hotel might be out for a bit. Do you want to head back to your room for the night?”
I was unfortunately paralyzed to my seat on the couch. The darkness kept me pinned to my spot. Fear took over and kept me frozen.
“Are you okay, Sadie?” Harry asked kindly. I could hear him approaching me.
“Um…” I muttered as I tried to figure out how to explain my enabling fear of the dark, “I can’t,” I whispered weakly.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m afraid…” I murmured woefully, confessing my childish fear.
Harry cupped my face in his hand and stroked my cheek with his thumb.
“That’s adorable;” I caught him muttered before he gave me actual support “you can stay here then. I don’t mind,” I couldn’t see it, but I felt his smile through the horrid darkness.
“Are you sure?” I asked in my quivering voice.
“Yes, of course. I can take the couch and you the bed,”
“No, I couldn’t take your bed,” I complained, feeling needy.
“I insist,”
“I couldn’t, Harry,”
“Then I guess we’re sharing the couch,” he plopped himself down on the couch persistently. He covered himself with the blanket and pressed his body close to me as we sat alone together in the dark.
“There’s another couch,” I mentioned.
“I want this one,” he teased, knowing I couldn’t move from my seat.
Our bodies were touching. It made me shiver more ferociously than before, but he thought it was from fear. I felt his hand slip into mine. He wrapped his long fingers around my small ones, squeezing my hand protectively. Though my heart rumbled inside my chest with bone shattering velocity, I felt safe. I was surrounded by my fear but I was with Harry. I felt as though this was another way he was making up the accident. He wouldn’t leave me alone while I was scared, just like at the hospital. This was another reason why I felt so strongly for him. He was loyal and generous, sacrificing his comfort for mine.
“Are you okay?” he whispered tenderly.
“Yeah,” I replied with quaking words.
He leaned down and took me in his strong, tattooed arms. This was best feeling I could ever imagine and I was ruining it with my anxiety.
“You’re still shaking,” he pointed out in his husky voice.
“I’m sorry,” I felt stupid. He was being so kind to me but I couldn’t get over the fact that he was Harry, my crush.
“Just relax and try to sleep,” he suggested. He asked me to get up so he could pull out the couch bed. His eyes must have adjusted in the dark. I kept mine shut, “Come on, love,” he said sweetly as he took my hand in his once again so he could lead me to the bed.
“I’m really sorry for this,” I apologized again.
“It’s fine, really,” he emphasized.
I tucked myself into bed. We were only a foot a part from each other, lying in the pitch black room. “This has to be weird,” I said.
“Why would it be?”
“We’re friends, laying together in the dark, and what not,”

His arms cradled around me. I wasn’t prepared for it. He held me tightly, pressing his sturdy chest against my back. His head rested on top of mine in a caring way that made me feel safer. I wondered if he could feel my hyperactive heart jumping out of my body. With his arms clasped around my waist, he pulled me in as close as our bodies would allow.
“I just want you to be okay,” he whispered with a hint of guilt.
I recognized the voice he said it with. It was the same voice he used when he visited me at the hospital. It was sincere, genuine, and soft. The light hint of sadness and guilt sent a harsh crack down my heart. He still blamed himself for the accident and it pained me to know.
“I want you to be okay,” I whispered back before we both fell silent and drifted off to sleep.