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a million tiny little things

two

The minutes dragged along, turning into an unbearably long, quiet hour. Harry and Fallon didn’t speak – she braided and unbraided her hair while he tied and untied his shoelaces. Both wished the elevator had cell service. They weren’t typical Millennials addicted to their phones, but it would give them something to do other than sit in the heavy silence of the elevator.

“Who’s Her?”

Fallon looked up at Harry as he finally spoke. The silence was deafening, but it was preferable than a question about her personal life. It was surprising he took so long to ask her. She could only imagine what Harry had heard when he answered the phone. Her face reddened at the image.

“Uhm…”

Harry held up his hand, shaking his head. “Never mind,” he decided. “You don’t have to tell me. None of my business…”

“It’s okay,” Fallon told him, and she meant it. The vague contact in her phone, and the likely intoxicated condition of Her would raise eyebrows, and she couldn’t fault his curiosity. She frowned as she realised she wouldn’t mind if she told Harry. She pushed that thought away. He didn’t need to hear about her personal life anymore than she needed to tell him. She’d just spent two hours and eight hundred dollars talking to Trudy about Her. She didn’t need to tell Harry.

Harry nodded and rested his chin on his knees. The captivity wouldn’t have been as bad if he could talk. He never liked to stay quiet for too long, and a conversation about anything would help distract from the realisation the elevator could plummet at any moment.

“Elevators have really strong cables… right?” he couldn’t help but ask.

Fallon let out a quiet laugh. “I think they’re made of dental floss, actually.”

Harry scowled. “Oh, shut up… you’re not a comedian,” he sighed as Fallon laughed again. He wished she was as nervous as he was, but she seemed as calm as could be. It wouldn‘t be surprising if she took a nap.

“You need to calm down,” Fallon advised Harry, her tone gentle as she tried to reassure him. “The cables will not snap, we will not plummet. The worst thing that will happen is one of us will fart,” she added. “And it’ll be you, because I’m a lady.”

Harry snickered. Whether she was right or wrong, he appreciated her attempt to calm him. “Where do I recognise you from?” he asked suddenly. “I mean, besides the bakery and here, of course. I’m not that daft,” he added unnecessarily.

Fallon chuckled again. He might be. “Uhm… I’ve been in a couple commercials and stuff?” she offered. “And, uhm… well, I’m… on a show. A TV show.” she added, frowning. She kept her head down and played with the hem of her jeans. He would certainly ask what show, but she hoped he wouldn’t.

“Oh?” Harry ears perked up. “What one?”

Fallon cleared her throat and kept her gaze away from Harry. “Oh, uhm… It’s… it’s on Disney,” she answered, her voice a low whisper. Telling a world-famous pop star that she played a ditsy blonde high school girl with an affinity for misquoting common idioms on the same channel as Doc McStuffins was embarrassing. “Yolo.” The admission was humiliating. He must have thought she was such a hack.

Harry shook his head. “I’ve never watched the show,” he said, sounding apologetic. “I mean, I might have seen an episode here and there,” he added. He hadn’t, but he felt bad telling Fallon he’d never seen her work.

“No, you haven’t,” Fallon let out a humourless chuckle. “It’s okay… it’s more for teens and stuff anyway,” she shrugged. “They go fucking nuts about it. Guess you’re used to that…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

Harry smirked. Oh, was he ever. “So, where then?” he pressed, staring at Fallon intently. He thought he may have seen her face on the racks of teenage magazines, but that wasn’t it. Finally, he snapped his fingers. “Oh! I know.” He gestured to the elevator. “Right here. Not here-here,” he added. “But… this building. I’ve seen you in the hallway, haven’t I?”

Fallon shrugged. “I think a few times,” she answered. She didn’t realise she had been memorable enough for Harry Styles to notice her. She’d noticed him, of course. He was a celebrity. She was hardly a television star. She didn’t want to admit it, but Harry noticing her was flattering.

Harry matched her nod. “Yeah,” he mused. He wanted to ask her why she was in the office building as often as he was, but he suspected it was also none of his business. “So, uhh… What’s it like being on a TV show?”

“It’s…” Fallon hesitated. Talking about her career in front of someone like Harry was different from talking about it back home. At home, she was a celebrity. She was the one who cracked the code and got out of the small town. Her career impressed the townsfolk, but she felt inferior discussing her career with someone with world-renowned fame like Harry.

“It’s fun,” she admitted with a shrug. Her honesty surprised her, as she thought she would answer in a more offhand tone and keep her enjoyment over the show under her hat. “I mean… we might not win any Emmys for it, but… we have a lot of fun on the show. It’s a bit stressful, too, I guess… Live audiences can be taxing, but… everyone likes blooper reels, right? I like it…” she trailed off, her voice filled with hesitancy.

“You film live?” The thought impressed Harry. He hadn’t acted before, but he imagined filming in front of a live studio audience would be a challenge. She must have been a very talented actress. “Wow.”

Fallon fiddled with the buttons on her sweater. “Well… I mean, yeah…” she answered. The admiration in his voice was unnerving. She didn’t do anything that thousands upon thousands of actors in Los Angeles didn’t do. “You’ve done talk shows before. It’s not really any different.”

Harry furrowed his brow. “I think it’s a bit different,” he argued. “I mean, memorising lines and having to be somebody else in front of a massive crowd of strangers?” He shook his head. “I don’t know if I could do that…”

Fallon nodded. “Sure you could,” she told him. “I mean… there’s people whose only job is to feed us lines when we forget. You can go into a live show with just a table read under your belt and… still get shit done. I don’t do that,” she quickly added. Fallon didn’t tell Harry she had all the time in the world to memorise her lines, what with having no social life or friends, but he didn’t need to know that. “But… it’s not like it’s Broadway.”

Harry shook his head. “We’ll agree to disagree,” he told her with a smirk. “I’ll have to tune in, just to prove I’m right.” He didn’t add that he would only tune in because she was cute. Disney shows weren’t exactly his cup of tea. He wouldn’t tell her that, either.

Fallon picked at a loose thread. “Well… you better get on it. Hopefully this season is the last,” she said, wondering why she was telling Harry anything about her life. They weren’t friends, they were strangers trapped together. They would never see each other again after the doors opened.

“What do you mean, hopefully?” Harry wondered. “You said it was fun!”

Fallon shrugged. “It is,” she answered. “But everyone seems to want to do a spin-off, like college ages and I…” She stopped and dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand. “Ehh… it doesn’t matter. We’ll probably keep going on until we do some cheesy Wedding in Vegas like on Saved by the Bell,” she sighed, the breath louder than she intended.

Harry watched Fallon fidget with her sweater. He wasn’t good at reading signals, but she might as well have been holding a neon sign. “And you don’t want to?” he asked. “Why?”

Fallon blew out a sigh, her lips vibrating against her teeth. “No, it’s fine…” she repeated. She didn’t need to delve into her feelings with a stranger. “It’s a great cast and… the wardrobe is pretty nice…” she shrugged. “Steady money is nice, too…”

Harry wondered if Fallon realised how terrible of a liar she was. “Well… those are good points…” he replied. “Gotta love a good wardrobe and money…”

Fallon nodded. “Yeah,” she agreed. The single word hung in the air, the deafening silence returning. She focused on the stray thread, wishing she hadn’t told Harry so much about her life. He didn’t need details, and she doubted he cared.

“Sorry… for blabbing…” she spoke up after a few quiet minutes.

Harry laughed, looking at Fallon. “You were hardly blabbing,” he pointed out. “I asked the questions.” He cracked his knuckles. “And I… I get it. I mean, doing something you don’t want to do. I fucking get that…” he told Fallon. “Shit, I’ve been doing that for years…”

“Really?” asked Fallon, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. The band had worldwide success, the members had more money than they could spend. She couldn’t imagine how Harry could be unhappy with his career. “But you’re so successful…”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Harry laughed. “But yeah… I mean, I don’t hate it, not at all. But… there’s so much more I want to do. I want to write songs and actually have time to nurture and perfect them. I…” He hesitated. Did he dare tell a complete stranger about his career plans? He shouldn’t, but he realised he felt comfortable with Fallon and even though she could, he trusted she wouldn’t say anything.

“A few months ago, I sort of brought it up… us taking a break…” Harry told Fallon. “It was just like… getting to be too much. Just go, go, go… no time to rest, reflect, nothing. And I didn’t want to exhaust the fanbase. I didn’t want people to get, like… sick of us. I wanted us to go out on top, rather than being forced out. Not that we’re out,” he quickly added, even though he was not sure.

“But like… I don’t know,” he continued, toying with the rings on his fingers. “I feel bad, because I said it should be a break, but… I’m already making some solo plans. And the other guys don’t know, so I feel kind of shitty about it, but also feel shitty because I don’t feel shitty enough.” He blew out a sigh. “I just don’t want to do things for other people anymore. I want to do what I want to do…”

Fallon nodded slowly. She understood. “I get it,” she answered with a sigh. “It’s just… easier said than done sometimes, I think…”

“Why?”

Fallon chewed on her lower lip. “I want to do so much more, too. I want to act in films and portray characters with substance and… do something that matters. But…” She huffed out a loud exhale. “I’m in the fucking Disney bubble, and it’s nearly impossible to get out of it.”

Harry scoffed. “Oh, it can’t be that hard…” he told her. “I mean… there’s a ton of people who got their start on Disney and… they do more. Lots of people! Wasn’t Ryan Gosling on The Mickey Mouse Club? And… and Justin Timberlake, and Britney and… a ton of people! It’s not impossible,” he argued.

Fallon rolled her eyes. He had no idea. “Okay, but for every Ryan Gosling, there’s hundreds of former Disney kids who can’t even get an audition for fucking McDonalds. It’s good for awhile and then it just… completely takes over your life. It’s not as easy as you think.”

“Maybe it’s not as hard as you think,” Harry countered. He didn’t know if his words were comforting or demeaning. “Maybe you could be the next Ryan Gosling. I mean… anything’s possible, right?”

Fallon wasn’t a fan of confrontation so, despite her disagreeing with Harry, she shrugged. “Whatever,” she sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I guess I should be grateful I’m not waiting tables or meeting creeps like Harvey Weinstein in hotel rooms. I just…”

“Want more,” Harry supplied. He understood more than she knew.

Fallon looked up at Harry. “Yeah…” she whispered. “It sounds so selfish, doesn’t it?”

“No,” Harry answered. “It’s not selfish, it’s healthy to go after what you want. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself,” he added with a humourless chuckle. “You have to look out for number one, Fallon…”

He knew her name. It took her by surprise. “How do you know my name?” she asked him. “I never told you…”

She hadn’t? He was certain she had. “Oh…” he remembered. “The person on the phone… she said your name…”

“Oh.” That made sense. It would have been the perfect time to tell Harry who called her, but she’d already divulged too many personal details for the day. “Well, anyway… yeah. You’re right,” she told him. She didn’t add that she was looking out for number one, but no director with any clout would want someone tainted with mouse ears.

Harry shrugged. “I usually am,” he boasted with a teasing smirk. He hoped she would smile. She had a cute smile.

Fallon snickered but said nothing. Once again, the silence surrounded them, but it was not as deafening as it had been before. A sense of comfort in the air surprised Fallon. She shook the notion out of her mind. She didn’t want to comfort from Harry. There was no point. Someone would fix the elevator soon enough, and they would continue with their separate lives. She lacked close friends, but one of the most famous men in the world would not become her confidant. It was preposterous.

Harry stretched his legs across the dirty floor. He wanted to lie down, but he could only imagine the amount of bugs and dirt harbouring on the worn carpet. It was bad enough he was sitting on it; he didn’t want to rest his head on it.

Piss on it, Harry thought to himself. He wiggled into the corner of elevator and slunk into a reclined position, his long legs stretched diagonally across the elevator. It wasn’t enough room, and he had to bend his knees, but it was better than sitting up.

“Don’t move too much,” Fallon warned, a small smile playing on her lips. “Those cables, you know…”

“Piss off,” Harry instructed, his eyes closed but a smile of his own on his face. He rested one arm behind his head and the other over his eyes. “This is so uncomfortable…”

“Looks it,” Fallon observed. She drew her knees to her chest and rested her cheek against them. Her gaze settled on Harry’s legs, long and skinny. He reminded her of a baby bird. She closed her eyes, Harry’s rhythmic breathing lulling her into relaxation. If she wasn’t in a cramped elevator with a famous stranger, she might have fallen asleep.

And maybe she had drifted off. She was not sure how many more minutes had passed, but it seemed like a lot when Harry interrupted the silence, startling Fallon.

“Hey, Fallon?”

“Hmm?”

Harry lifted his head, peering at Fallon. She was facing away from him, her hair falling over the bit of her face he could see. She might not answer him, and it might have been disrespectful to ask again, but he wanted to know. “Is Her your mum?”

Fallon sighed. She turned her head, meeting Harry’s eyes. “You’re just going to keep asking, aren’t you?” she stated with a single chuckle.

Harry shook his head. “No, no…” he assured her. “I’m just nosy, sorry. It’s not…”

“Yeah,” Fallon interrupted with a loud sigh. “She is.”

Fallon’s confirmation surprised him and he was ill-prepared for her affirmation. He let her response go unanswered for a few beats as he thought about his own mother. She wasn’t drunk and crying on the other end of the phone, and he never ignored her calls. He felt a pang of pity for Fallon and the relationship she had with her mother.

“Why didn’t you want to talk to her?” he finally questioned.

Fallon scoffed. “You talked to her,” she reminded Harry. “Would you want to talk to… to that if you didn't have to?”

“I guess not…” Harry mused. He sat up, cracking his back as he shifted his position. “I’m sorry,” he offered, the words weak against his ears. He was not sure what he was sorry for – asking? Or knowing?

“You don’t need to pity me,” Fallon told Harry. Her voice sounded tighter than she intended. “I have a… a stepmom who’s wonderful. My mom sucks… but it’s not like I’m without love. I’m doing just fine,” she retorted. First her career, now her family. She loathed pity from anyone, but especially from someone with more success.

“Sorry,” Harry said again. “Well… she’s fucking stupid, missing out on her kid,” he offered, hoping his name-calling wouldn’t offend Fallon.

Despite Harry calling the woman who birthed her ‘stupid’, Fallon laughed. “She is a fucking idiot,” she agreed. There was so much more to say about her mother’s idiocy, but Fallon would not dive into that. It was too much, even for Trudy.

Harry regretted asking Fallon about her mother as the silence crept back into the elevator. He was not sure if it was talking to Fallon or talking in general he enjoyed, but whatever it was, it was better than the silence that seemed to make time stand still.

Fallon watched Harry out of the corner of her eye. She wanted to tell him it was okay he’d asked about her mother, and she probably would have told him about her even if he hadn’t asked. No, she realised, she wouldn’t have done that. But she wanted him to know his expected questions didn’t annoy her. But as the minutes ticked on, she became less and less able to find her words.

Just as the silence was becoming overbearing, the phone rang. Harry jumped up before Fallon could untangle her crossed legs and grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi there, just letting you know the repairman is here,” the operator told him. “It shouldn’t be much more than a few minutes.”

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he told the operator, hanging up the phone. He turned to Fallon, who was standing by his side. “Just a few more minutes,” he assured her. He wondered if the call from the operator warranted giving Fallon a hug. He was ecstatic, but he refrained.

Fallon beamed. “Oh, thank God,” she breathed. She wouldn’t tell Harry, but as the minutes ticked on with no help, she had been close to panicking. Hearing help was finally on the way caused her to exhale a long, relieved breath.

Harry looked down at Fallon, an amused smirk on his face. “Aren’t you the brave one?” he teased. “The comforting hero,” he added. He realised he still wanted to hug her.

Fallon let out a loud laugh. “That sounds like a perfect superhero name,” she joked, laughing again. Her chuckles were theatrical, and she hoped to rid whatever tension had crept up on them. She wished she was not so awkward when speaking about her mother. She wasn’t the first person in the world with a shitty parent.

Harry snorted. “The hero Gotham deserves,” he stated dramatically. He leaned against the wall next to the door, gripping the railing behind him. “I do appreciate you calming me down, though,” he added. “I, uhm… I don’t do well in tight spaces like this, but you…” He snickered. “You’re as cool as a fucking cucumber. I’m definitely… not the coolest customer.”

“You did fine,” Fallon assured Harry. “I mean, you didn’t scream or cry or throw up, so… you’re a bit cool. Lukewarm,” she added teasingly. “And I’m really glad you didn’t throw up. Imagine the stench…”

“And I didn’t fart, either,” Harry proclaimed. “Fairly successful, I’d say.”

Fallon laughed. “Thank God for that, too,” she agreed. “Oh!” she exclaimed suddenly, noticing a jolt as the elevator descended. “We’re moving!”

Harry couldn’t help notice how cute Fallon looked while excited. He laughed as she clapped her hands. “Uhm, no we aren’t…” he told her, struggling to keep his face serious.

Fallon stopped clapping and stared at Harry for a moment. “What?” she asked, her face squishing with confusion. She concentrated on the movement beneath her feet. “Yes, we – oh!” She scowled as Harry broke his serious face and laughed at her. “Shut up!” Fallon told Harry, swatting his arm. She realised with a start she liked touching him.

“You’re not the only comedian, love,” Harry advised her, grinning. He liked her touch, even if it had been more of a swat.

“Yeah, you’re a regular George Carlin,” Fallon shook her head, looking up at the elevator numbers as a ding rang out. Without fanfare, and as though there had been no problems, the doors opened to the empty lobby.

Fallon snickered. “You’d think someone would be here to make sure we were okay,” she pondered, stepping past Harry into the lobby. She took in a deep breath, her legs shaky as she stood on the solid ground.

“Not even a fireman,” Harry agreed. “Of course, you told the operator I wasn’t sick, so… if you’d lied like I wanted you to, we might have more of a welcoming committee.”

“Mm-hmm,” Fallon hummed good-naturedly. “Well, uhm… I’m parked in the garage out that way, so… I guess…” she said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. An odd wave of sadness rushed over her and she wondered if she ought to offer her phone number to Harry. As quick as the notion entered her mind, she shook it away. He wouldn’t want her number. Other than perhaps being side-by-side on a past cover of Tiger Beat, they had nothing in common.

“I’m there too,” Harry told her. “I’ll walk you.” Even if his car wasn’t in the same garage, he still would have walked her.

Fallon nodded, appreciating his gesture. “Thank you,” she told him, falling into step beside Harry as they exited the building. She was grateful Harry was escorting her to her car. She hated being out alone after dark, especially in the downtown core.

“What level are you on?” asked Harry as they crossed the street to the parking garage. Fallon held up two fingers. “Me, too. Let’s take the stairs,” Harry suggested with a chuckle.

“Oh, absolutely,” she agreed. “I think my elevator days are over for a bit. Or, at least until next week, when I’m back here again,” she added thoughtfully. Shit.

Harry made a mental note of her schedule but didn’t comment on it. He had seen her in the hallway before, he was certain he would see her again. He wanted to ask for her number to ensure he would see her again, but it seemed weird. They had only been in an elevator together. If a man would have been on the elevator with him, Harry wouldn’t ask for his number. Unless it had been Ryan Gosling.

“Here’s me,” Fallon stated, stopping in front of a silver SUV. She unlocked the car and tossed her purse inside before turning back to Harry. “Well… thank you for walking me to my car.”

Impulsively, he hugged her. He had to bend to envelope her short stature, but he grinned as Fallon’s arms encircled his waist. She was nearly a foot shorter than he and was a perfect fit tucked against his body. She would almost fit in his pocket, he realised with a smile. It would be a perfect time to ask her for her number. She was hugging him back, it was a good sign. Right?

Harry’s hug surprised Fallon, but she reciprocated and wrapped her arms around him. He was tall and gangly, his body flopping over her shorter self like a tree swaying in the wind. His greasy hair didn’t smell as bad as it looked – it actually smelled like coconut and some kind of flower Fallon couldn’t place.

A few beats passed before Fallon pulled herself from Harry. She rehearsed the words in her head – do you want to get a coffee sometime? – but before she could find the nerve to vocalise her thoughts, Harry broke the silence.

“Well, it was, uhh… nice to meet you, anyway,” he told her, mentally kicking himself for being such a chicken. But Fallon had crossed her arms over her chest and Harry read her body language as discomfort. He immediately regretted hugging her and causing her uneasiness.

Fallon nodded, relieved she didn’t mention her coffee idea. The rejection would have been more embarrassing than her bakery outburst. “It was really nice to meet you, too,” she replied. “Uhm… well, take care…” she added before opening her car door.

Harry watched as she slid into the car. “You as well,” he told her. “Drive safe,” he added, closing the door for her. Once she wouldn’t hear him, he let out a loud sigh. Stupid, stupid, he thought to himself as he watched her drive away. Perhaps she wouldn’t have given him her number. Perhaps she would have. But now, he would never know.

Notes

Comments

@JasperRenee
Thank you! I really appreciate that! It can be a bit difficult to get my head around a new character, so I really appreciate the praise! <3

harambejtrump harambejtrump
3/9/19

Oh I absolutely love Fallon! Something about the character just seems so... realistic if that makes any sense... keep up the good work!!!

JasperRenee JasperRenee
3/9/19