Roman Holiday | h.s

One

Rome, Italy
Summer of 2017

It was the Summer of 2017 and Harry Styles, fresh off a press tour promoting his debut album, decided to take a trip to the city of Rome for a weeks getaway. Little did he know who he would meet.

Anna was a born and bred Italian. She was an aspiring fashion designer, interning for an Italian fashion house - collecting samples from all over Italy to drop off to her supervisor.

It was as if the stars were aligned in this point of time for these two lovers - who had yet to meet. As Harry went for a jog around Rome, aimlessly running and Anna was collecting rolls of fabric for her boss. What could possibly cause these two souls to collide you may wonder? Well that would be telling...

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The door to the fabric store swung open carelessly, the small bell above it jingling a gentle chime.

"Ciao Anna," a perspiring bald man, shuffled his way around the counter of the quaint shop - filled with the most glorious fabrics and anything a fashion designer could need - and walked to the door to greet Anna who was carrying a large tote bag filled with a list of garments she needed fabrics for.

"Come posso aiutarti oggi?" (How can I help you today?) he asked her, pulling her bag off her shoulder - allowing her to rest her aching shoulder muscles momentarily. She pushed her wide framed glasses up her nose and huffed the stray hairs off her face.

"Thank you, Ambrose," Anna began, smiling warmly at the man who had become somewhat of a parental figure to her. She had discovered Ambrose and his shop by accident when looking for safety pins for a dress one time.

"È Julia, ha bisogno di tutti questi tessuti per lo spettacolo di domani." (It's Julia, she needs all these fabrics for tomorrow's show.) Anna continued, Ambrose stroked his moustache with interest - observing as Anna took her book out of her bag and pointing to the many sketches, complete with the samples of the fabrics needed attached.

"Ah, amore mio. Is Julia treating you well?" (My love/darling). Ambrose asked, taking multiple rolls of fabric from the wall and spreading them one by one across his table - cutting enough off to roll and give to Anna.

"She is. It's just busy as it's the summer fashion week in Milan coming up. I'm sure things will calm next week." Anna spoke, and he responded with light nods.

"You mustn't work yourself too hard, amore mio. You know where this vecchio is if you ever need any help." He responded sincerely, his protective side coming out. He only wanted the best for Anna.

"You're not an old man." Anna argued with a soft melodic laugh, gathering the rolls of fabric from Ambrose and stuffing them into her bag, before slinging it over her shoulder once again - only this time a lot heavier. She handed the company credit card to Ambrose who charged it accordingly and stuffed the card and the receipt into her purse for her - to which she responded with a very relieved look.

"Thank you so much, Ambrose. I owe you!" She called out, blowing a kiss to him (to which he pretended to catch in his hand, and store in his terrycloth shirt pocket). Anna quickly rushed out of the door, and began speed walking onto the main streets of Rome - headed for her bus back to the studio.

Meanwhile, Harry had woken early from his sleep feeling a bit worse for wear and had decided to go for a jog to clear his head. His first album had been a commercial success thus far, his fan base thoroughly enjoying the music on the record and the music videos that had accompanied it thus far.

The only thing getting him down was the already mounting pressure from his label to start writing again, to keep the momentum going and keep selling. Harry didn't know what to do and it had kept him up for hours last night, tossing and turning in his bed - adorned with down feather pillows. He was living the dream - his dream, yet he felt mildly upset.

That led him to this early morning, not being able to stay asleep and hence why he went for his early morning jog. He hoped fresh air would aid him on his journey to realisation of his next move, he obviously understood that being signed to a label was a privilege and the fact there was a whole team rooting for him and his career was incredibly flattering - but he just wanted a bit of downtime before his world wide tour began.

Was it too much to ask? Mallory - his manager, believed so.

"You wanted to be big in music, right? That was the dream you sold to me. Now I'm giving you the opportunity to live it, to achieve it. You need to take it in both bands, boy." Mallory's voice echoed around Harry's mind, occupying his concentration - as were the soothing vocals of Fleetwood Mac singing Don't Stop playing in his earphones as he jogged, a song which only had him thinking about his situation more. He couldn't escape his predicament.

It wasn't until he turned a corner in Rome and collided into something - or someone, that he had time to slow down and take each moment as it came.

The only problem with this was that the thing he bumped into happened to be a twenty-three year old woman named Anna, who was carrying a bag full of fabrics which had since been lodged off her shoulder - sending them flying all over the street, unraveling and paining the streets gorgeous shades of deep crimson and warm yellow.

"Cazzo!" (Fuck.) She shrieked, jumping out of her skin at the collision - unable to do anything except stare as her fabrics were strewn on the streets. Her tanned cheeks had become flushed, and the sweat from rushing around had began heading on her hairline and neck.

"Cazzo, cazzo!" Anna repeated quietly as she scrambled to pick the fabrics up. Harry stood dumbfounded, with a mildly sore shoulder from the collision. Anna however, was very annoyed with the lack of help. It wasn't that she couldn't pick it up, she was a strong independent lady - it was the principle. He had bumped into her, after all.

"Are you going to help, stronzo?" (Asshole.) She asked him, her tone not nice at all and he quickly snapped out of his daze to scramble to the floor and help her pick up her things.

"I am so sorry, love. I wasn't looking where I was going." He tried to apologise as he rolled the fabrics up and gave them back. She noticed his hands first, covered in different rings as they extended the fabric toward her which she took with a sigh and refilled her bag with.

"No, I'm sorry. Sorry for calling you that too." She replied in a mellow tone and put the last roll in her bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

"Honestly, it was my fault. I'm so sorry. Are you okay, hurt in any way?" He asked her and she raised an eyebrow, normally people were not this polite. It would be a quick "scusa" and you would move on with life.

"I'm fine. Thank you." She responded duly, closely watching him as he scribbled something onto the back of a receipt he had in his pocket.

"This is my number, give me a message if you need any of the fabrics replacing. I am happy to pay for any replacements." Harry told her, extending the crinkled paper toward her. She stared for a moment and then took it, if she didn't, she would have to pay - and on the intern wage it wasn't really a great idea.

"Thank you..?" She questioned, waving her hand for him to fill in the blank with his name.

"Harry." He responded in a polite tone, he was looking at her lips as she spoke, delicate pink. He was also looking at her long hair and how the flyaways danced around in the air as a gust of wind came. She nodded in response to his answer and they went in separate ways, both of them getting to opposite ends of the street and turning back to look at each other.

Without knowing at the time, this shared look was the beginning of an emotional journey the pair would embark on this summer.