Harry Who?

For the first time since he started working on his album, I visited Harry at the studio and met his band. It was so different seeing him with them compared to how he was around 1D, maybe because this was Harry’s band and he was ‘in charge.’ He introduced me to all the band members, and a few of them came over for dinner afterwards. He seemed very close to his guitarist, Mitch, and I jokingly wondered if they had bonded over both having long hair.

After they left, Harry sat me on the couch in his living room and said he had something to show me. He put a CD into the stereo and came to sit near me on the couch.

“It’s not exactly done, but this is kind of the rough draft of the first song we’ve completed for the album. It’s, uh, it’s called ‘Kiwi’.” He explained and nervously tapped his foot. As the song started playing I was immediately shocked by the difference between this and the few things I’d heard Harry playing over the past few months. However, given his taste in music, I don’t really know what I was expecting. I tried to listen to the song without looking at Harry or having any kind of reaction, but it was hard with him sitting right next to me. My head was swarming with thoughts by the time the song came to an end, and I didn’t even know where to start.

“What do you think?” He finally asked.

“It’s certainly quite catchy,” I started, and finally looked up at him and he laughed.

“Thanks. Anything else?” He looked as if it were obvious what I should comment on, and it was, but I was working up to that.

“Kiwi...why kiwi?” I asked.

Harry shrugged and laughed to himself, but didn’t say anything.

“I have a couple theories...and I don’t like most of them.” I eyed him sternly and tried to keep my emotions in check. Harry had given me no reason to believe any of them, but I had to ask.

“Okay, let’s hear them.” He leaned forward to rest his chin on his clasped hands.

“New Zealand. People from New Zealand are called kiwi’s…” I looked up at his face for a reaction, but he kept smiling. “Or, one of those cute birds, the Kiwi bird…”

He laughed, but still didn’t comment.

“Did you get a kiwi pregnant?” I couldn’t stop from laughing, and he moved closer to sit next to me.

“Yup, you got me, Ell.” He wrapped his arm around me. “I had sex with a little green fruit and knocked it up.”

I laughed, but didn’t feel more at ease. Those lines kept replaying in my head and the implications behind them were making me feel sick.

“Your other ideas?” He asked. “You said you had a couple.”

“They’re stupid, nevermind.” I shook my head and blushed.

“No, I want to hear it. You’re like my crash test dummy; you’re the first person I’ve shown the song to, and I want to know what you think. Also, I’m not paying you, so I know I’ll get an honest answer.” He smiled reassuringly and waited for me to continue.

“Did you get someone pregnant?” I bit my lip to keep from smiling, because as said it I realized how dumb it sounded, but I had to hear it from him.

He smiled and shook his head. “No,” he laughed. “You really think I’d write a song about that? And let the whole world know I messed up like that?”

I smiled and shook my head. “No, I guess not. I just had to know. Because, that’s kind of how it sounds. And kiwi’s are about the size of… well, I don’t know how far along a fetus would be the size of a kiwi, but maybe that’s when you found out?”

“Ellie, I have never impregnated anyone.” He laughed. “It’s just a song, don’t look into it so much,” he kissed my cheek. “But you like it, right?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I do, but that part really gave me a heart attack.”
“Ell,” he leaned over to look me in the eyes. “Not all of these songs are necessarily about me. There’s a whole group of us writing these songs, and sometimes we get inspiration for a song from the most random things. If you must know, a friend of mine overheard his neighbor’s arguing. I guess they’d had some of his sperm frozen so he could have a vasectomy. When they got divorced, she still had some of it, and decided to use it to have a baby. When he found out, that’s when she said ‘I’m having your baby and it’s none of your business’. I thought it was fucking hilarious, so I put it in a song.” He smiled, and I finally relaxed and smiled back.

“Is that legal? Can she do that?” I smiled back, but a thought occurred to me and it turned into a frown. “Though, now I’m realizing that maybe I’ve said something dumb and you’ve written a song about it.”

He laughed, probably longer than he needed to. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh God, you haven’t written a song about me, have you?” I cringed and leaned back little.

He shook his head, and got up to retrieve the CD. “Not exactly, but right now you are one of my biggest muses.”

“Lovely, can’t wait to hear the rest of your album,” I whimpered.

“This is for you; something for you to listen to while I’m not around this summer,” he handed me the CD with Kiwi on it. “Just don’t lose it, or let anyone else hear it.”

“Thanks, I’ll listen to it every time I miss you,” I joked, although honestly I might actually end up doing that.

A few days later I got an idea from a weird dream I had, and approached Harry one afternoon.

“Harry?” I asked quietly. He was leaning over his desk reading something, his hair falling over his face.

“Hmm?” He looked up from his book and his hair fell back out of his face.

“Can I try something with you?” I asked hesitantly. “I’ve never wanted to do this with a boyfriend before, so I’m not sure where this is coming from.”

His eyes lit up and he grinned a cheeky smile. “Okay, love, what is it?”

“Can I play with your hair?” I bit my lip to keep from smiling as he laughed and ran his hands through his long hair.

“Um, yeah I guess so. I haven’t brushed it today-”

“That’s okay,” I cut him off and held up a hair brush and elastics. “I brought supplies.”

He laughed and let me get to work on his hair. I didn’t realize how much I would enjoy brushing his hair, running my fingers through it and untangling his curls. He has such beautiful and thick hair I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous, considering I knew how little he took care of it aside from washing it.

I looked down at the book he was reading and realized it was the book I’d given him for Valentine’s Day last month. The book was ‘The Mysterious Affair at Styles’ by Agatha Christie. I got it for him because I thought the title was funny, but he seemed to be enjoying reading it.

“So, is this because I told you I was going to have to cut it off soon?” He finally asked.

“Yeah, I guess so.” I started working his hair into a braid, this time trying to make it even and look nice. “I never really thought about you not having long hair. I guess I just took it for granted that this was how you’d always look.”

“It’ll be weird, for sure. I’ve had it a couple years now, so it will take some getting used to.” He answered, putting his book away.

“Do you know how short you’ll need it for the movie?” I cringed, hoping he wouldn’t need a buzz cut. I wasn’t too familiar with 1940s military haircuts, to be honest.

“I’m not sure, but I think it’s shorter on the sides, and a bit longer on the top. Not too short, though.”

“And how long do you think you’ll keep it after that?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it, but I don’t think I’ll it grow out like this again.”

“No, really?” I whined. “I guess I’ll get used to it eventually. But until you get it cut, you can expect me to touch and play with your hair as much as I can. Maybe we can try straightening it!”

He laughed, but conceded. “You can do whatever you want with my hair.”

As promised, I tried to do something fun with Harry’s hair every day until he had to have it cut. Even if it was just brushing it at the end of the day, I still loved running my hands through his long locks. Occasionally we would take a bath together and wash each other’s hair. I’d never done this to anyone, let alone a boyfriend, so it was a very unique experience, that (I think) brought us together a bit. There is something special about having someone wash your hair for you, even if he doesn’t quite do it the way I’d like.

When the day finally came to cut his hair, I was nearly in tears after having spent the last month falling in love with his hair. He had a friend film it for his ‘Behind the Album’ documentary, and I did not want to be seen in that, so I kept myself out of shot. It was so nerve wracking, and I could tell Harry was nervous as well, as his stylist cut his hair. It was like he was losing a piece of himself, something he’d developed his public persona around the last few years. But, this was also a way for him to start over. Not only for ‘Dunkirk’ but for his solo album, as just ‘Harry Styles’, not ‘that guy with the hair’ from One Direction.

It was painful, and I think Harry was a bit emotional too, as his hair was chopped off. I wanted to reach forward and touch it, but I waited until the camera was gone before touching his new shortened hair. He looked so much younger I almost wanted to cry! Sometimes I forget he’s several years younger than me, because he acts so mature. But now, with his shorter hair, he looked so much younger than me! It’s like he’s a whole new Harry to me.

But really, he’s the same boy who came into my bookstore last August and asked for a book because he was ‘lonely’ and ended up asking me up to his room for breakfast. He’s the same boy who sang me my own personal version of ‘Hey There Delilah’ because he missed me while he was on tour. He’s the same Harry who brought me to meet his parents at Christmas, and who gave me a bunch of new clothes for Christmas because I was too stubborn to let him buy me some. He’s the same guy I sleep next to every night, who makes me weak in the knees just by saying my name. He is, after all, still my Harry.

Notes

I actually love Agatha Christie, and that book is the first book I had read by her (and also the first book she wrote!). I thought it would be cute if Ellie gave him books for birthday/Christmas/whatever considering they met in a bookstore, and because what do you get Harry Styles for his birthday??

PS. Imagine Harry washing your hair??? Ugh I’m dying thinking about it

Those are all my weird theories on Kiwi. Honestly, Harry probably just saw a bowl of fruit and was like, “Kiwi, that’s a good name for this song.” (Or he secretly likes to torture us.). I stole Harry’s explanation of Kiwi from an episode of Brooklyn 99 (when Charles’ ex wife won’t give him his sperm back).

What are your theories behind kiwi? Has Harry actually talked about that song?