Plain Jane (H.S.)

Ch. 2

Welcome to the official chapter 2. If someone had clued me in to the drama, I would have formatted this more professionally. I was too busy embarrassing myself in class and running from Harry to notice what the hell was going on. For now, it's chapter 2 and hopefully that's all the chapters there will be because once we jump into a volcano or something, we'll hop back into our bodies.

So this is it. This is utopia. To be sat across Harry Styles-maybe the real Harry Styles, as he vents a two-of-a-kind problem to me. My heartrate is still that of a hamster and I'm unable to stop twirling my hair. It's the most I can do to mask the urge to shriek in his face or dig my fingers two inches into his scalp. To stay grounded, I remind myself that while it feels real, it's not. This may be the real Harry, but this is not Jane's life, it's Jasmine's. All I can do is enjoy the little time I have with Him. Stay calm. Stay cool.

Two coffee cups sit between us, both are full and cold by now, since neither of us allow a moment of silence. So far, Harry going unacknowledged has thrown his 'narcissism', as he refers to it, to the gutter. Just how I'd missed my unflattering body, he'd missed being hounded with recognition. They were each negative points of normalcy for us. I, however, didn't share that the real me looked wildly different than the girl sat in front of him.

Some other points to mention: Harry missed his mom. This version of Anne had been standoffish toward him as if they had a strained relationship. Two, he didn't care to go to school. Three, he didn't understand why he was treated like a villain.

"You're probably a kingpin." I half-joke.

"Thought of that, actually." He grins, proudly. "Searched round my locker and car, so unless I keep the drugs at home, my hands are squeaky." He flips his hands back and forth in front of my face.

I'm grateful that he's willing to spend time with a fan. Pouncing the whole fanfic topic on him would be going overboard. With my knowledge on the topic, he may perceive me as invasive and disrespectful. He might see me unhinged for reading 100's of fantasies where I am the main character. We'll leave that to ruminate for now.

A few topics later, he slaps a hand over his eyes, "How embarrassing."

"Stop, I know!"

"And not for you, it's embarrassing for him. Seriously, like..." He drags out, "who is that guy? That's not Niall. I mean...Niall the bad boy?"

I light up and say. "Niall the church boy more like."

Now you've done it, Jane. You've gone over the edge you over stimulated, impulsive, emotionally sensitive dickhead.

Then, Harry does one of those balloon-popping suddenness kind of laughs that he urgently covers his mouth for. "You are a fan! You're definitely a fan."

Okay, chill girl. You two are like peas in a pod, kitties in a litter, peanut butter and jelly. He's seen you're type of person time and time again for the past decade.

"All 10 years." I mention. baby steps on the fan thing. baby steps.

As our conversation continues, I don't explain the voice inside my head, nor do I mention anything related to fanfiction. To him, I'm a fan named Jasmine who's in college and that all there is to it. I'm content with that.

Harry is most bewildered by his age. "Did I not look good at 27? Why have I been made a teenager again?"

"Styles, what's up man!" Someone interrupts. Harry, while confused, reciprocates his greeting and bro-like hand shake. "I don't see your people around here often. What brings you over?"

He stares at me, as if the answer is on my forehead. "Errrm. Coffee."

"Coffee, and.." The friend checks me up and down, then back to Harry. "Really?"