Harry's POV-
We walked into the box at the Redsox stadium and Brielle immediately dragged Soph out to the seats. I looked over at Zayn and grinned, "Ready for some american beer and sports?"

He nodded and grabbed two beers out of the fridge, twisting the tops off of them.

"To another great US tour!"

I took a sip and heard the door open. A man in a white button down, jeans, and a worn out looking Redsox hat walked in. He began talking up the attendant and the attendant looked frightened. He looked around at us and gave a small, fake, smile.

"You must be the British boyband I've heard so much about." He said smugly, eying me in particular up.

Louis scoffed, "We are. Who are you?"

He looked Louis up and down, "I'm the owner of the team. Tom Werner."

Brielle's squealing cut him off, "DAD!!!"

Dad? Holy shit.

"There's my girl!!!" He picked her up and spun her around.

"So I see you've met the boys!" She beamed.

He glared at Louis before looking back at his daughter, "Briefly."

She grinned before pointing out everyone, "That's Zayn and Louis, that one over there is Niall, he's the only baseball fan. That's Liam. And this-"

She pulled him over in my direction and I extended my hand, "Is Harry."

He shook my hand tightly, nearing breaking half of the bones.

"Hello sir." I said, attempting to not sound nervous.

"Harry Styles. I see. Can I speak to you for a minute son?"

Brielle just looked at me with wide eyes, motioning for me to answer.

"Of course."

I followed him out to the seats, overlooking all of the stadium. We sat down and he leaned back comfortably, putting his sunglasses onto his face.

"Are you a fan of baseball Harry?" He asked, nonchalantly.

I cleared my throat, "Um not really sir. It's not big in England."

He nodded aimlessly, staring onto the field, "Well here, it's huge. To my daughter, it's the most important thing in the world. Well, it was at least, until she decided to go to some makeup school out west. She wanted to go to school to study sports medicine. Wanted to live on this field like her old man."

I nodded, "I didn't know that."

He laughed, "There's a lot you don't know I'm guessing. But here's the thing Harry, Brielle is my little girl. My only child. She's head strong, intelligent, and witty. But, she's got one flaw. She trusts people long before they deserve her trust. Do you see why that's a fathers worst nightmare?"

I went to answer but he cut me off, "Of course you don't. You're 20 years old and don't have any children. Brielle's mom hasn't been around for a long time. She's all I've got."

I could feel my palms getting sweaty and I knew that the way I answered his impossible question would be the deciding factor on whether or not I would get to date Brielle.

"Sir, your daughter is incredible. She's insanely beautiful, she doesn't take shit from anyone, and she's got a heart of gold. To even KNOW her makes me feel like the luckiest guy on the planet. I have no intentions of hurting your daughter. She's got my full and undivided attention."

He looked at me and I couldn't tell by any means what he was thinking, "Good answer. But how exactly does this work. In 10 years, I'll retire. She's taking over the business. She'll need to be in Boston. She can't play makeup artist forever. And where does that leave you? You know nothing about this sport or this COUNTRY even. This place is important to her. This is her legacy and what she does with it will affect not only her and I, but this team, this city, and I'd go as far as to say this country."

I nodded, feeling a little more confident, "What's important to her is important to me. If she needs to be in Boston in ten years, I can figure that out. I'll learn all there is to know about this sport. If she's supporting me and my dreams now, I can support her and hers later. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make this work with us if that's what she wants. What I do know is that the deciding factor on whether or not she's with me is dependent on you. Your say-so is the most important thing to her so as of right now, that's all I need. If you give me your blessing I promise you sir, I will do everything in my power to take care of your daughter."

He sat there for a minute, silent, thinking over everything I said before turning to me and extending me his hand, "Congratulations son, you're officially a Redsox fan."

---

Sophia's POV-
The baseball game was actually a blast. Me, Zayn and Niall sat together, trying to catch on to all of the songs and terms and players and failed miserably. Louis didn't really talk to me but I can't say I didn't expect that. I mean one, we're not together. Two, we can't look together. Three, I'm sitting with Zayn. And four, I did pretty much dump him and end our engagement.

I nudged Zayn, "I wouldn't have thought this was your thing!"

He laughed, "It's totally not. But Niall's always alone at this so I figured I'd join in the fun. Not to mention I get to sit with you."

I gave him a mischievous smirk before turning back to the game. Brielle was sitting in the front row of the box, resting on her hands and she leaned as close to the action as possible. Everytime the Yankees scored she would curse and scream and her very Boston accent came out. The Redsox (Or just 'Sox' as Bri called them) were winning 5-4 and Brielle was in a yelling match with a yankees fan below her. It was hilarious considering it couldn't get violent because she was ten feet above the man.

"Kiss my ass sweetheart!" He yelled, flicking her off.

She scoffed and LITERALLY SPIT ON HIM, "Suck my tit you lousy prick! Your team is horrible and Derrick Jeter's only got two more years left so you better count your blessings now that this game is even remotely close!"

"One word hun: BABE RUTH!" He yelled back.

Brielle's face got bloodshot read and she looked like she was about to jump and pounce onto him. But fortunately, a very flustered Harry grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap.

"You're absolutely insane." He said, laughing.

She rolled her eyes and mumbled, "Fucking Yankees fans. Seriously the worst attitudes in the world."

His smile was adorable. She was oblivious, or course, but the way that boy was looking at her was as if she was the only woman in the world. The Redsox scored again and the game was over. Brielle and Niall were both jumping up and down, screaming, and dancing around. It was embarrassing, but somewhat endearing.

We got back into the van and sat in between Zayn and Niall. It was a tight squeeze but I didn't really notice until I felt Zayn's hand brush against mine. The brief moment of electricity nearly gave me a heart attack and I scooted closer to Niall. He looked at me apologetically before moving his hand into his lap and staring out of the window. Oh come on, really? Now I felt bad for making him feel bad. Not that it made any sense. I groaned and grabbed his hand aggressively and resting it on my leg. He smirked and kept staring out of the window. I was not going to let things get weird. Things WEREN'T weird. Right? But if they weren't weird and I didn't have any feelings for Zayn (WHICH I DIDN'T), then why was my heart beating so fast?

Notes