a million tiny little things

In the weeks following the elevator fiasco, Fallon Schwartz had almost vanished from Harry’s mind. It wasn’t intentional, but more a case of ‘out of sight, out of mind’. He tried to find her on Instagram, but either she was one of the few people their age without an account or she used an alias. He couldn’t fault her for that, but he wished he could see her.

Harry held onto the hope he would see her in the office hallway, but he hadn’t been back since. He wondered if she had, and if she thought he was avoiding her now. It wasn’t the case – there hadn’t been any further meetings since the one at the start of April. And now, as almost six weeks has passed, he’d almost completely forgotten about the cute elevator girl.

Almost.

Harry filled his days, and many of his nights, putting pen to paper as he and the rest of the band worked through their tour break and focused on writing for their next album. The words flowed effortlessly, but Harry kept many of the lyrics close to his chest. He didn’t want to share his words with the band. He wanted them for himself. Selfish? He remembered what he told Fallon – no, it was healthy.

Despite his reassurance, he still had guilt when asked by his band mates how his writing was coming. Harry would lie and tell them he was struggling, when in reality, the words had never flowed so well. He wondered if they knew he was lying.

Harry hummed a melody to himself as he drove through West Hollywood, concentrating more on the weak lyrics running through his mind than on the traffic. As he breezed under a traffic light, he glanced in his rear-view mirror. Was that green? he wondered to himself. He shrugged – no one honked or crashed into him, so he assumed it had been.

Harry pulled into the television studio parking lot, stopping for a moment at the security booth. Once he gave his name, and they cleared him, Harry continued into the parking lot. The lyrics and melody still plagued his mind as he distractedly searched for a parking spot.

Fallon stomped out of the studio, shoving the door open as her frustrations came close to boiling over. She held herself together during the meeting, pursing her lips and biting her cheeks to keep herself from crying, but she wouldn’t be able to keep the emotions at bay for much longer.

She thought a meeting following an audition was a good sign. The audition had been the week prior, and while she didn’t hit it out of the park, she performed better than she expected. When the casting director arranged a meeting through Fallon’s agent, she’d arrogantly assumed the part was hers. She arrived at the meeting surrounded by an air of pretension, but the executives quickly dashed her hopes. We like you, they had said, but you’re too young.

Fallon was crestfallen. When she argued and told them she was almost twenty-one, they shared glances amongst themselves, until one spoke up. Your Disney role, they had said, makes you seem younger than you are. It was her greatest fear, spoken out loud. Everyone who told her she was crazy, she was overthinking, she didn’t look sixteen, had been lying to her. She hated everyone.

She fumbled for her sunglasses, tugging them on as she huffed towards her car. Her angry feelings encompassed her mind, and she didn’t watch where she was walking as she strode through the rows of parked cars. A sudden horn blared, snapping Fallon from her trance.

She stopped short, the front bumper of the black Range Rover only a few inches from her. Despite being the one in the wrong, she held up her arms angrily. “Watch out!” she exclaimed, glaring at the windshield. The darkened tint prevented her from seeing who the driver was, but knowing Los Angeles, it was probably a stupid foreigner.

Harry shifted the car into park, smirking to himself as he saw the familiar blonde girl throw her arms up at him. He had expected to see her at the office building, not in a parking lot just blocks from his house. Despite her obvious annoyance at him, he stepped out of the car as she stomped away.

“You’re always yelling at me…”

Fallon whirled around at the sound of Harry’s voice. Since their elevator mishap, she almost forgotten about him. Not completely, because his face seemed to be everywhere these days, but enough that she was no longer kicking herself for thinking he would ever want her number while also kicking herself for not offering him her number.

She hoped to see him every time she went back to the downtown office. Thoughts of Harry crept into her mind, distracting her during her appointments. Trudy noticed and tried to get it out of Fallon, but with her work and family life as complicated as they were, Fallon didn’t want to bring up her unrequited crush on Harry Styles.

The word ‘crush’ was an odd one. Fallon wasn’t sure if that was what she had. She felt comfortable around Harry and he wasn’t horrible to look at, but was it a crush or just a hope for a potential friend? She hated being unsure about every aspect of her life.

“Hey…” she greeted, stunned to see him. “Elevator boy…” she added with a smirk. She didn’t have a sense of butterflies in her stomach as she met Harry’s eyes. It couldn’t be a crush then. Crushes always brought on an unsettling amount of butterflies, didn’t they?

Harry let out a dramatic scoff. “I prefer elevator man,” he corrected, stepping towards Fallon. He grinned as he approached her. “How have you been?” he asked, leaning against the hood of his car. “I’ve been hoping to run into you…” he admitted, the words coming out before he could stop them.

Fallon furrowed her brow. You have? she thought to herself. The notion took her by surprise, but she offered Harry a crooked smile. “Well… I mean, you almost did…” she pointed out, gesturing to his car.

Harry snickered. “Mm-hmm… funny girl…” he answered, rolling his eyes. “I meant… Anyway,” he said instead, shaking his head. He didn’t need to explain his words to Fallon. They were crystal clear, and if she didn’t feel the same, he wouldn’t humiliate himself. “What are you doing here?”

Fallon made a face. “Just… a couple meetings,” she told him, waving her hand. “Nothing major.” She shifted her weight. “What about you? Heading over to the Price Is Right?” she joked. Humour was her way of sidestepping uncomfortable topics. No matter how dry her sense of humour may be, Fallon would rather crack a joke and make someone laugh than allow them into her private mind. She was sociable on the surface, but surrounded by walls.

Harry didn’t have a quick wit like Fallon. “Nah… I’m heading over to the Late Late Show,” he answered. Fallon, while looking confused, let out a loud laugh. Harry matched her expression and shook his head. “That… that wasn’t a joke…” he told her. He didn’t mind though. She had a cute laugh.

“Oh…” Fallon answered. “Well, good… it wasn’t very funny,” she teased.

“Do you want to get a coffee?” Harry blurted out, interrupting Fallon’s jibe.

“A coffee?” Fallon repeated, her echo sounding dumb. She cleared her throat. “Like… a coffee? Right now?”

Harry nodded. “I mean, only if you want to,” he added with a shrug. He didn’t want to seem too eager to spend time with her. She could have plans. Or a boyfriend. Yes, of course she had a boyfriend. She was cute and funny. Girls like that always had a boyfriend.

Fallon beamed. “I want to,” she told Harry. “But… do you have time?”

He did not have time. The show filmed at five o’clock and he needed to be there at three. At five minutes to three, he definitely did not have time to have a coffee with Fallon. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to.

He waved his hand. “Ah, I’ve got plenty of time,” he lied, reminding himself to text Liam and tell him he was running late. The two-hour window was unnecessary, anyway. They weren’t performing, just interviewing. Harry would much rather spend his time with Fallon than sit in a greenroom with his band mates.

“Well… okay then…” Fallon answered, unable to wipe the smile from her face. She gestured across the street. “There’s a Starbucks there?”

Harry baulked. He didn’t want to go to a Starbucks in the middle of West Hollywood at three in the afternoon. The paparazzi were milling around the entrance to the parking lot, and he and Fallon would have to walk right past them to get to Starbucks. He didn’t want to subject her to that.

“Uhm… well, or… I mean, there’s a little coffee stand inside…” Harry stammered. “They don’t have Frappuccinos, but we can get just normal coffee? And sit on the grass over there?” He pointed across the parking lot to a grassy knoll in the shade, far away from the intrusive photographers.

Fallon shrugged. “Sure,” she answered slowly. The photographers approached her occasionally, but was certain they harassed Harry on a regular basis. She understood why he wouldn’t want to subject himself to that, but she wondered if he would venture to Starbucks if he was having coffee with someone more famous – older – than Fallon.

Harry noticed her frown. “The paparazzi are just… I don’t want to put you through that,” he tried to explain. “It’ll be nicer to visit without… all that attention.” He groaned to himself. He didn’t want her to think he didn‘t want anyone to see him with her.

Fallon gestured for Harry to stop talking. “It’s fine,” she laughed. She was not sure if it was. “But, just to warn you… the coffee here is gross. No complaining,” she warned him.

Harry grinned, drawing his finger across his lips. “I promise,” he assured Fallon as they walked towards the main studio doors. The small counter was right inside the doors, serving watery, overpriced and burnt coffee, as well as various fruit juices and pastries that had been sitting in the display case since the dawn of time.

“Do you want a treat?” Harry asked, peering at the shelves of pastries. “What is that one, though?” he asked under his breath.

Fallon nudged Harry from the pastries. “Don’t,” she told him. “I think they built this studio around those muffins. They’ve been here forever.”

Harry looked down at Fallon. “How do you know?” he wondered. “You’ve been here before? Price is Right?” he teased, elbowing her arm playfully. “Or, oh! Is this where they film Yoo-hoo?”

Fallon laughed. “Yoo-hoo?” she repeated. “Yolo, you dork! And no. Just a meeting…” she repeated. An odd sensation washed over her. She suspected Harry would ask about her meeting and, with a start, she realised she wanted him to.

“Oh shit… yeah, sorry,” Harry apologised. He should have known. He didn’t tell Fallon, but he found her series online and watched the entirety in a week. But, he hadn’t focused on the title of the show, or the hijinks of the eclectic blend of characters. Just Fallon, and her adorable smile. Her smile was becoming one of his favourite things. He hoped he could cause her to give him the same cute smile she gave that nerdy tuba player on the show.

Fallon snickered, stepping in front of the barista. “Can I get a large medium roast?” she asked, turning to Harry. “What are you getting?”

“Well, your coffee, for starters,” he told Fallon, hip-checking her out of his way as he saw her open her purse. There was no way he would let her pay for her own coffee. He was a gentleman. “And the same, please. Thank you.”

“Thanks,” Fallon told him, fiddling with the to-go lid. He probably thought she was barely making ends meet. Poor, underpaid Disney actress. She should have paid for her own coffee and his. Then he would realise she wasn’t hard up.

“You’re welcome,” Harry answered, sliding the first cup of coffee to Fallon. He popped the lid on his coffee and paid the counter clerk for the overpriced coffees before following Fallon out the doors and around the corner to the small grass patch. A few palm trees gave them some shade and a single garden bench on the grass told Harry it was okay to sit on the knoll. Sometimes grass was to look at, not sit on, as he had learned the hard way in the past.

“Thanks for the coffee,” Fallon said again as she sat on one end of the bench, pulling one leg under her.

Harry sat across from Fallon, resting one ankle across his knee. “It’s just a coffee, Fallon, and you’ve thanked me twice,” he pointed out teasingly. “I’ll let you get the next one, so you aren‘t indebted,” he added, kicking her foot.

“The next one…” she pondered, taking a sip of the putrid swill. “Guess we’ll see how good this one is…” she added, laughing as Harry took a sip of his coffee and made a face.

“Jesus…” he coughed. “The company is definitely better than the coffee…”

“Can’t be worse,” Fallon quipped, but he was right. “So what are you guys doing on the Late Late Show?” she asked, forcing herself to take another drink. “Are you putting out another album, or what?” She unintentionally emphasised the word, but they did seem to have a nonstop string of album releases.

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “No, not yet. Soon,” he added. “But James is an old friend, and he’s hosting the show now and since we’re on a bit of a break from the tour, we thought we’d come on the show and kind of support him. And we did, like, this dodgeball skit last week, so… you’ll have to watch tonight and see my sick dodgeball moves,” he added with another laugh.

“You played dodgeball?” she couldn’t help but ask. Something about Harry Styles didn’t exactly scream athletically inclined. She didn’t tell him she’d never watched a single episode of the Late Late Show, but that would change tonight. A smile formed on her face. “I’ll definitely have to watch that…”

Harry scoffed with facetious disbelief. “I’m really fucking good at dodgeball!” he protested, kicking her foot again. He wasn’t.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Fallon countered, laughing at the thought of skinny, long-haired Harry doing anything involving athletics.

“Just you wait…” Harry promised. “You’ll be so jealous of my skills. You’re probably going to ask for a private dodgeball lesson, too,” he added. “I might say yes… because what good is my wonderful talent if I don’t share it?”

“Mm-hmm…” Fallon hummed, rolling her eyes. Perhaps he was more than just not horrible to look at. He was pretty cute. “Like I said… I’ll be the judge!”

Harry took a sip of his coffee. “Better be a nice judge,” he advised. “And then I might be a nice teacher…” he continued before making a face. “That sounded a lot less smarmy in my head. Sorry,” he apologised. He didn’t want to come across as a pussy-hungry pop star.

Fallon shook her head. “It’s okay,” she laughed. For a moment, she’d wondered if he was flirting with her, but then he apologised and she realised he wasn’t. It was a bit disappointing – being flirted could be nice, especially when the flirter was not a creep – but it made sense.

“So… work meeting?”

Fallon picked at the hole on the knee of her jeans. The sense of comfort she had with Harry in the elevator wasn’t as strong as it had been that night, but there was still something there, something that told her she could talk to him and trust him. She hoped he wouldn’t break her trust.

“Kind of,” she answered. “I had an audition last week, and… then they wanted to meet with me here. Like a proper sit-down. Thought it was a good thing. I definitely came in to the meeting with a total pompous attitude. But…” She sighed, shaking her head.

Harry had a hard time believing Fallon could ever act pompous. If anything, he could see her acting like a doormat and accepting a film’s terms regardless of whether she agreed with them. He didn’t pick up a haughty vibe from her at all. “So, what happened then?” he wondered, keeping his thoughts to himself.

Fallon wished she’d had a chance to let her emotions out before she saw Harry. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him. Relieved she was wearing sunglasses, she drew in a long breath, trying to calm her nerves before continuing. “Total opposite,” she admitted. She winced as she heard her voice crack.

Harry heard Fallon’s voice crack, and he placed a comforting hand on her knee. “You don’t have to tell me…” he told her quietly. He had no idea how he would react if Fallon cried. He was not great at comforting crying girls.

“It’s okay,” she told Harry. “Told me… I’m too young. Disney tainted me. Verbatim,” she added for emphasis.

“What!” Harry exclaimed. He hadn’t meant to voice his surprise so loudly and he took a quick look around, hoping he hadn’t drawn attention to them. It was habit; no one was around. “What do you mean, too young? I mean, you’re…” He stopped himself from calling her hot. She was, but he sensed it wouldn’t help. “It’s not like you’re a teenager! You just play one!”

Fallon chuckled. Harry’s surprise was sweet, but mistaken. “Well, that’s all they know me for… I told you…” she added with a shrug. She huffed out a sigh. “It’s so frustrating! Like what do I have to do? How am I ever going to get past this teenage persona?” She dropped her head as she heard her sudden outburst. She didn’t want to sound like a brat, not in front of Harry.

“You will,” Harry assured her, unsure how comforting his uninformed words would be. He was not familiar with the television business, but he just knew there was more out there for Fallon. She just had to believe it, and he didn’t think she did.

“How do you know?” Fallon retorted. Her tone didn’t sound it, but she appreciated his support.

Harry snickered. He didn’t take Fallon’s snap to heart. “Because I’m fucking brilliant,” he boasted. “And you’re fucking talented. You’re not going to be in the Disney bubble forever. Hell, I’ll even produce a movie and you can star in it, direct it and write it, if you want.” He smirked, hoping to cause one of those cute smiles from her.

“It’s not nepotism, but it’s something,” Fallon mused. She snapped her fingers. “Oh! I know. Pity.” She shook her head at Harry, but a small smile crept onto her face. He really was very kind. “But… I’ll keep that in mind,” she added, her eyes rolling good naturedly.

“No, it’s faith,” Harry corrected. Perhaps it was odd for him to have such a belief in her talent, but he felt as though he knew Fallon better than he did, and he could tell she was passionate and had a natural talent. He understood being stuck in the teen idol bubble, but he wanted her to understand it wouldn’t be forever.

Fallon shook her head again. “Well, whatever you want to call it… Thanks…” She fiddled with the lid of her cup. “Guess it’s for the better, anyway. The failed audition, I mean…” She sighed and looked up at Harry. “Most of the people on the show are really pushing for this spinoff. I mean, I would rather just… neatly tie the show in a bow and end it properly, but… Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever…”

“So you do want to do a spinoff?” He wasn’t judging or trying to sway her. Harry was genuinely curious about Fallon’s inner workings, and he hoped he could help her, even if all he could do was listen.

Fallon drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin against her knees. “No?” she said, her voice rising questioningly. “Yes? I don’t know. It seems to be my only option and… I mean, no one likes change, right?”

Harry shifted his position, stretching his arm across the back of the bench. “Can I… I mean, is it overstepping if I give you some advice? Or an idea, at least?” He didn’t want to overstep his boundaries, but he knew all about doing something you didn’t want to do. He’d gone through struggles just as Fallon was, and while he was certain she had friends and family she could talk to, he didn’t enjoy seeing her so muddled.

Fallon met Harry’s eyes. “Please,” she almost begged. She needed someone to tell her what to do, or at least help guide her in the right direction. She was not doing a good job on her own.

He laughed at her desperation and scooted closer to Fallon. He moved his hand from the back of the bench to her knee, hoping he was comforting and not coy. “I mean, I’m not in your shoes…” he began. “But… you’re fucking talented. You are!” he insisted when he saw Fallon’s head instinctively shake. “And you’ll have all the success in the world, if you just believe you will. If you think the show is holding you back, then… maybe…” He trailed off. He didn’t want to tell Fallon not to do the spin-off, but it could be so easy to be complacent. He thought she needed the push. “Maybe you just need to take a leap of faith?”

Fallon sighed. He was right. The show was holding her back from doing the work she wanted to do. She adored her time on the show, but all good things needed to come to an end. Dragging the show into spinoff after spinoff wouldn’t help her career. “Yeah… I mean, it’s fun, but…”

“But what?”

Fallon met Harry’s eyes. They were so bright, so kind. She realised the happenstance meeting was the best thing to happen to her in a long time. There was something about Harry, something that made her feel inadequate, but also made her feel guilty, like he would hate if she felt inferior to him. But still. “It’s embarrassing…”

“What’s embarrassing about it?”

Fallon rolled her eyes. “Besides everything?” she asked. “I mean, I know I love it,” she sighed. “And I’m proud of my character and… did you know they only hired me for four episodes? And here I am, three seasons later. But…”

“But…?” Harry urged gently.

“No one takes it seriously!” she reminded him. “Telling somebody like you that I’m on this fucking…”

Harry held up his hand. “What do you mean, somebody like me?” he asked, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. “What does that mean?” She hardly knew him, just as he hardly knew her. He didn’t want to have to dissuade Fallon’s preconceived notions of him in order for her to get to know his true self.

“I just mean… you’re so successful! And so talented!” Fallon tried to explain, meaning no offence by her words. “And then I’m telling you about this stupid kid’s show, and I feel…” She huffed out another sigh. “Like I can’t compare…”

Harry snickered, giving Fallon’s knee a light swat. “Oh, stop,” he chastised. “You know… I watched every season of your show. In like, less than a week. And!” he continued, pulling on Fallon’s hands as she tried to cover her face. “I think you’re really talented. And obviously the powers that be think you are, if you’ve been on the show three years longer than expected. Give yourself some credit,” he added, squeezing her hands as he realised he still had a grip on them.

Fallon’s mind was racing in three different directions. One, Harry’s hand was on hers and he was not making any motion to move it. Neither was she. What in the world did that mean? Two, was she really talented? Perhaps she wasn’t as big of a hack as she thought. And three…

“You watched three seasons in a week?”

Harry nodded, a sheepish grin on his face. “And the blooper episodes. I couldn’t stop,” he confessed. “I’m not just saying that, I promise. You made me laugh, a lot. That silly little catchphrase? ’What do you mean-uh!’” He mimicked Fallon’s character and laughed, his hand still gripping hers. “I cracked up. Every time,” he added for clarification. It didn’t take a genius to realise Fallon needed a boost, but he wasn’t fibbing.

He was adorable. Fallon couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s more like… ‘what do you me-ee-ean-uhh!’” she corrected, reciting her character’s catchphrase in perfect pitch. She didn’t make a habit of voicing the phrase in public, but Harry wasn’t an overzealous fan. He was… a new fan? A friend? A crush? Fallon wasn’t sure what he was, but she didn’t mind saying the one thing she was famous for to him.

“There it is,” Harry teased, pleased he’d gotten a laugh from Fallon. He didn’t know how much he helped her but he hoped she knew his words were true.

“Thanks, Harry…” Fallon told him. “I’m usually not this emo, but I… it’s been a bad day. But thank you… I appreciate your help.” She offered him a smile and felt a flutter in her stomach as he squeezed her hand. There they were. The butterflies.

Harry beamed. “It’s my pleasure,” he told her honestly. “And don’t worry. We all have bad days. But maybe next time you won’t be such a sad sack,” he teased.

“Next time you try to run me over?” Fallon teased back. Despite his hand resting on hers, Fallon still felt nervous at the thought of offering her number to Harry.

“Well, uhm… I was sort of thinking we could make, like… actual plans…” Harry answered. He pressed his lips together nervously. She wouldn’t say no now, would she? “Like plans that don’t involve me almost killing you… or you yelling at me…”

Fallon scoffed. “Where’s the fun in that?” she joked. She saw Harry’s eyes drop for a moment. “But… yeah…” she added with a smile. “Let’s.”

Harry grinned, relieved. “Let’s,” he agreed. He pulled his phone from his pocket, ignoring the few texts from Liam and Niall. He was so late, but he didn’t care. “So give me your number and we’ll make plans. And I’ll text you memes,” he added with a smirk.

Fallon reached for her purse and found her own phone. “Give me your number and I’ll send you better memes,” she countered.

Harry snickered before reciting his number. “Challenge accepted,” he told Fallon as he entered her number into his phone. He gave her hands a final squeeze before letting out a sigh and standing up. “I’ve got to fucking go,” he huffed. He pulled Fallon into a hug. “But I’ll see you soon,” he murmured into her hair. “And don’t forget to watch dodgeball tonight!”

“Absolutely,” Fallon assured him, answering both his points. Though still embraced, she already was looking forward to seeing him again.

Notes