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The Letter

Chapter 1

I wrote him a letter about a week ago, I didn’t expect him to answer, he’s a superstar.

Mr. Styles, or Harry, Mr. Harry, whatever.
Anyways, hello. My name is Ashley, I’m 20 years old. I’m living with my father, he’s a drunk. Sorry for telling you that, you don’t need to know that. On the 17th I’m going to your show in Seattle and I’m beyond excited. I’ve never seen you guys live before. I’ve got to sneak out of my house to see you; my dad doesn’t let me leave. Ever. But I’ll be there after the show, and I’ll wait on the floor until they kick me out. Oh! I’ve got front row seats as well. Have a good night Harry.
Much Love ~Ashley

Like I said, it’s been a week and still, there’s nothing. I put on my maroon “Chill” shirt, along with some faded jeans with holes in them, and my white converse. I then did my hair, which was loose beach waves, and my makeup which was in nude tones. I was ready, so ready and I couldn’t be more excited.

It was only 7, but my dad was passed out on the couch, I quietly walked out the front door. The stadium wasn’t too far away, so it was quite an easy walk. I got there, they scanned my ticket, and I walked into the building. The waves of screams and loud talking hit me. I walked to my seat, front row, dead center. I was so fucking excited I could hardly contain it. I looked around and saw the parents and grandparents sitting around on their phones, there was a girl, she looked maybe 16 or 17, and was wearing a very revealing crop top, in high wasted shorts that showed half of her ass. I could see the man behind her looking her up and down. Yuck.

She leaned over to me, “You’re never going to get their attention dressed like that.” And scoffed. “But I’m also not going to get the attention of a 40 year old man either.” I laughed and pointed to the fellow behind her. She shuffled awkwardly and continued to live tweet the action. Though, the concert hadn’t even started yet.

But as I say that, the lights dim and dark blue lights creep across the stage. There’s a lot of fog, and then the screen rises and the boys walk on stage. The crowd is roaring, I’m shaking I’m so excited. They introduce themselves and how their day was going and whatnot. Harry looked down at me and winked. The bitch next to me started yelling “OH MY GOD HE WINKED AT ME!!” but I knew it was for me.

After they sang Midnight Memories, Harry started talking, “You can’t chill at a show like this, ma’am.” He said really sassy like. Everyone looked confused, “Her shirt. It says chill.” He said and pointed at me. The cameras all faced me. “You can’t chill. There is no chill.” I giggled. “Well you could always chill with me after the show!” I yelled so he could hear and he winked at me. The girl next to me was giving me this most intense stare ever, it was great.

The rest of the show was just icing on the cake. It was amazing, and I loved it so much. After the show I waited, just as I told Harry I would. I waited for an hour or so until they kicked me out, he never came. It sucked but I would live.

~1 Week Later~

I was getting home from work one night when my dad threw an envelope on me. It was addressed to me, obviously. There was no return address on it though. I walk into my room and open the suspicious letter.

Ms. Ashley, Ashley, whatever
I saw you the other night. Was it you who made that remark to me? I saw you sitting in the audience after everyone had left. I tried to go and talk to you but security wouldn’t let me. You looked very nice. You should give me a call sometime. Here’s my number, have a good day love.
~H.

He gave me his phone number and I texted it, ‘This is Ashley.’ And within just a few seconds he responded.
H: Ashley! You got my letter.
A: I did!
H: Are you in town?
A: Uh… yeah I am… I live here, haha
H: Oh right! Right… well do you want to hang out?
A: With you? Aren’t there girls surrounding your every move? It won’t look good for you.
H: Let me come to your place!
A: No. nononononoooo I live with my dad, reminder. He drinks. A lot.
H: Good for him, but I want to see you.
A: He works in an hour. I guess you can come… I’ll see you later.

Harry Styles… was coming to my house… this is… god… moving too fast… I hope he doesn’t try anything