Middle Of The Road

The beaten up Chevy splutters as it makes it down the high way. The sound doesn’t seem to face its driver, who ignores the people in the other cars looking at him. It’s not as if Harry Styles isn’t used to people staring at him.

They’re probably wondering why Harry Styles of One Direction is driving such an old car. His friends had asked him with good humor why he was driving a car that can break down at any minute when he can afford to drive the best of the best. Harry had told him it was because of sentimental reasons.

Which technically isn’t a lie. He is driving an old car for sentimental reason but not because it belonged to someone dear to him who has died or something – which Harry is sure is what his friends thought.

Letting out a sigh, Harry bends forward and turns the volume of the radio louder. Johnny Cash’s voice fills every crevice of the car as he sings about a boy named Sue. Feeling a little too hot, Harry rolls down his window, the cool outside breeze cooling down his face almost immediately.

It’s rather hot for the time of year in the US. Harry, now used to the weather in America after having lived there for four years, know it isn’t supposed to be this hot in February. When he first moved here, he’d thought it was always hot in the US – aside from the period between November and December of course. He’d been shaken from that particular illusion when the weather had grown cold in October.

What Harry wouldn’t do for that kind of weather at this moment. He’s sweating heavily and it makes his shirt stick to his back, which is an irritating sensation. Of course, Harry is used to sweating a lot, with being on the stage under blaring lights every night but on stage he can at least stop his shirt from sticking to his skin. Now, whenever he sits back against the backrest of the driver’s seat his shirt reattaches itself to his skin.

Harry’s eyes wonder to the right side of the road in front of him and he lets a ‘Thank fuck’ slip from his lips when he sees a sign with an announcement of a gas station nearby appear in his field of vision. Finally he has an opportunity to get out of the car.

A few minutes later, Harry is driving his old car unto the parking space of the gas station. There are only two other cars at the pumps, so Harry drives up to the third one and turns off his motor. He steps out of the car before stretching himself like the cats he loves. You can probably see a patch of skin where his shirt is riding up but like always, Harry doesn’t care. It’s not as if he has a body to be ashamed of.

When Harry’s done stretching, he straightens his shirt again and lets his eyes wonder. The gas station is small, not much more than one living room by the looks of it. They probably don’t have a toilet – which Harry doesn’t necessarily has to use, seeing that he can just piss in the bushes – but they most likely sell coffee – which Harry does need. He never knew a road trip makes you tired so easily. He’s only on his second day and he’s already knackered.

A woman walks out of the gas station and for a minute their eyes meet. A look of recognition crosses her face and before long she’s walking in his direction. Harry smiles at her when she reaches him.

“Hey Harry. What are you doing here?” the girl asks. She doesn’t ask where his band members are because she knows. The whole world does.

“I’m on a road trip,” Harry tells her. He’s leaning against the car with one hand as he checks the girl out sneakily. She’s his type, with blonde hair and long legs. Harry’s younger self would have tried to sleep with her. “I’m on my way to Dayton. Do you know it?”

“No, sorry,” the girl replies. She smiles at him and takes a step closer. There’s a flirty spark in her eyes, telling Harry she’d noticed him looking her body up and down. She’s read him the wrong way. “I’m just passing through, you see. I was just about to drive away again, actually, but maybe I should stay a little longer.”

The invitation is clear, she wants to shag him. In the past, Harry would have jumped at the change to add another girl to his long list of conquests but thinks are different now. He’s grown up so he’s going to let her down gently instead.

“You don’t have to, love. Unless you want to see me fill my tank. I want to reach Dayton before night fall so I kind of want to leave again as soon as possible.” Harry smiles at the blonde girl in the hope that’ll prevent her from getting upset.

Harry’s shoulders sag in relieve when reacts calmly. She doesn’t scowl at him or start yelling. All she does is shrug her shoulders. “That’s your loss, than, pop star.” She walks away with her head held high, swinging with her hips deliberately. She has a nice ass as well.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry is back on the road. His tank is all filled up and he’s blasting his music with his car windows open.

Today is the third day of his road trip. He had started out in Austin and he’s now on his way to Ohio. Because it’s too long of a distance to cover in one day, he stops in small towns at the end of the day and tonight he’s going to sleep in Dayton. He’s already chosen a hotel he’s going to spend the night at as well as the bar he’s going to drink and play his guitar at.

Music is the reason why Harry’s on this road trip to begin with. It’s not because of the American landscape – even though it’s quite beautiful and it takes Harry’s breath away every time he visits the country. No, it’s because he wants to play in bars and play the music he’s never played with One Direction.

Gemma had declared him an idiot when he told her about how he was going to spend his break between tours but that was nothing new. It was his sister’s way of saying she loves him and he’s grown accustomed to it.

Harry is shaken from his thoughts when his phone goes off. The sound coming from his pants tells the young pop star it isn’t his mother or his sister calling. It’s someone he doesn’t want to talk to until he really has to again. He doesn’t answer the phone even though he knows the person calling is going to be worrying about him. It’s going to cause him problems later but at the moment, he doesn’t care.

One hour later, Harry drives into Dayton. He dials down the volume of his radio as he drives through the quaint little town. The people making their way over the sidewalk don’t spare him a glance, probably used to seeing old vehicles on the street.

There are only a few cars parked in front of the hotel. Not many people visit Dayton, probably. They most likely drive straight through to Ohio.

After he’s parked his car, Harry walks into the hotel lobby. It’s a small space and the front desk is almost right in front of the entrance. It’s been a while ago since Harry has spent the night at such a small establishment. The hotel he stayed at last night was bigger than this one and the band never stayed at anything smaller than the Ritz.

The girl behind the desk doesn’t recognize him or doesn’t show it. All she does is smile at him in a friendly way and says, “Good afternoon, Sir. What can I do for you?”

Harry tells her he’s rented a room and after she’s checked her computer, he’s given the key and instructions about what time breakfast begins and ends. After having thanked her, he picks up his luggage and makes his way to the staircase that will take him to his room.

Not having a lot with him, it doesn’t take much afford to reach the first floor. His room isn’t too far away from the stairs and within three minutes he’s standing inside his room.

The room is as small as Harry expected it to be. There’s only a bed, a small nightstand and a closet. Harry’s own bathroom back home is bigger than this hotel room. Harry doesn’t mind because the small size has its charm.

Harry doesn’t unpack. Instead, he gets his shampoo from his suitcase and walks towards the door that will lead him to the bathroom. He can’t wait to wash away the sweat and grime of the day.

The bathroom is half the size of the bedroom and is only furnished with a shower, a toilet and washing basin squashed together in the small space. The shower however is heavenly and Harry stays a few minutes longer than he’d planned.

Refreshed and excited Harry walks into the bar fifteen minutes later. His head and heart feel light as he makes his way towards the bar stools, guitar case in hand. There are only three people sitting at the bar, a balding guy, a young guy with a dark skin and a girl with dark blonde hair and a nice small bum. Harry choses to sit down next to the girl. He puts his guitar case down next to the stool and turns towards the bartender to place his order.

“A beer, please. Whatever you have in tab,” Harry tells the bartender, who nods at him in response. He turns his head towards the girl and when their eyes meet he smiles at her. “Hey, how you’re doing?”

The girl has a pale skin and brown eyes. She’s wearing a white dress and has a crown of flowers in her hair that Harry hadn’t noticed when he first saw her across the bar. She petit but has curves in all the right places. But all that doesn’t draw Harry attention as much as the fire in her eyes. It tells Harry this girl isn’t someone you would want to mess with.

“I’m doing great,” the girl tells him, her eyes weary but a friendly smile on her face. “How are you? What is someone like Harry Styles doing in a backwater like this?”

So, she does know who he is. Harry thought she didn’t know who he was a second ago. Alright, that means she isn’t a fan which is refreshing because Harry can’t remember the last time he talked to someone who either wasn’t a fan, family or a fellow celebrity. He just hopes this girl isn’t someone who hates One Direction.

“I’m on a road trip,” Harry replies. “I perform in bars while I make my way across the country. I’m on my way to Kansas City.”

“Really?” The girl’s smile turns into a grin and her eyes sparkle in excitement. “I’m on my way to Kansas City, too. Why do you perform in bars, then? It’s not as if you’re short on cash like me.”

“Because I like it,” Harry answers, irritation shining through. He doesn’t like it when people think he can’t do simple things anymore just because he has a lot of money.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” the blonde girl tells Harry. She looks like she’s genuinely sorry and she isn’t apologizing to get back into his good graces. “I was just curious. I’m Lizzie, by the way.”

Harry irritation disappears immediately, he’s not one to hold onto negative feelings for long. His eyes travel down to where the Lizzie’s foot twitches and he spots a guitar case lying next to the stool. Green meets brown again when Harry’s eyes reconnect with the girl’s. “Have you already played?”

“No, not yet. I only got here a few minutes before you,” Lizzie tells Harry. She takes a swig of the bottle of beer she’s been holding in her hands all the while they were talking. It reminds Harry he’s ordered a beer as well and he’s pleasantly surprised that when he turns to remind the bartender he sees his beverage is already on the bar in front of him. He gulps most of it down before turning to Lizzie again.

“So, are you any good?” Harry asks.

“I would like to think so. You know, I might not be selling out arenas but I know how to entertain a crowd,” Lizzie tells Harry, one eyebrow raised.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Harry sputters, suddenly realizing what he said might come off conceited.

Lizzie’s lips pull back, showing her pearly whites for all the world to see. “I was only joking, pop star. You should’ve seen your face. Hilarious.” One laugh escapes Lizzie before a few seconds later more follow. A few people in the bar turn around to look at the two young adults but Harry doesn’t mind one bit because Lizzie laughing is quite a sight to see. Her eyes are all scrounged up and the wide expanse of pale skin of her throat is very enticing.

“Alright. Okay. You can stop laughing any time,” Harry tells Lizzie even though he isn’t too sure he really means it. “I hate insulting people and you taking advantage, that is not nice.”

“I’m not nice. The sooner you find out, the better,” Lizzie jokes, at least Harry thinks she is. She seems like a nice girl and up until now experience hasn’t proven otherwise. “You know what, I just had a great idea. Why don’t we perform together tonight. You know, so you can show me the ropes. Show me how it’s done by the professionals.”

Only because Harry know she’s teasing him he answers. “Sure, why not. Who knows, you might catch the eye of a record producer thanks to me.”

“Yeah, who knows.” Lizzie’s lips thin out as she presses them together. She doesn’t seem too pleased by the idea of someone maybe offering her an recording contract.

Five minutes later, Lizzie and Harry are sitting on the small stage. Harry is sitting in front of the microphone with his guitar on his lap and Lizzie is sitting behind him with hers. He can hear Lizzie tune her guitar quietly as his eyes room around the pub. Most of the people are looking at the stage but some of them stare at their drinks with a sadness in their eyes. None of them give any indication that they know who Harry is.

“Hello, Dayton. I hope y’all are having a good night,” Harry greats the audience when Lizzie has stopped tuning. “I’m Harry and behind me is Lizzie. We’re going to be playing for you tonight. If you like our music, I hope you don’t mind donating a little bit of money so Lizzie’ll be able to afford to stay somewhere tomorrow night.” That elicits a laugh from the audience even though Harry wasn’t joking, not really anyway. “We’re going to play Lives In The Balance by Jackson Brown. We hope you’ll like it.”

The audience is very responsive. After Harry’s finished the first song, they chant for more so he and Lizzie decide to sing another one. This time it’s Lizzie who sings and Harry is blown away with how good her voice sounds. He hadn’t expected that. As she sings about a lover who’s send away because the person they’re in love with doesn’t return their feelings anymore, Harry has to fight the tears that threaten to fall. It’s been a while since he’s been this touched by someone’s voice.

It turns out to be a hit, them playing together. Some of the people in the audience are in tears as they clap their hands after the song has ended. Harry can’t help but grin and let the applause wash over him.

“You know what, we should do this every night,” Lizzie whispers into Harry’s ear. She’s left her seat at the back of the stage as soon as the applause had started.
Dazed by the exhilaration he’s feeling Harry replies. “Yeah, we totally should.”

Notes