This Is For You [Harry Styles]

2

I notify Miles to meet downstairs on the sidewalk of our building as I try to figure out my Lyft app situation. There always seems to be a damn problem with my app whenever I'm trying to get scooters.

"Hey, you're down here early. Did you end up opening up that folder that Leila gave you? You might be surprised by it since it's not really your-" Miles talks a lot.

"No, I didn't open it yet. I just got off the call with someone and I came down here to talk. Do you know how to get this stupid app to work, it's pissing me off," I had Miles my phone and glance over his shoulder as he asks for my driver's license.

"There. You're all set. Someone's getting hangry and it's not me," He takes a scooter off the designated parking area on the road and zooms off toward Gaslamp, where Cafe21 is located.

I'm right at Miles's tail on the scooters and he beats a light. "Fuck you, Miles!" I scream at him from behind, waiting for the light to turn green.

Good thing Miles is paying today because I completely forgot to take my purse with me. As I'm looking back at the traffic waiting behind me, I notice a group of older men and women surround a black SUV that's pulled up near Petco Park. It's strange for a baseball player to be getting that kind of attention and it's barely even baseball season anymore. My curiosity peaks and I sliver through the little bike lane on the right to get a closer look.

Flashes start going off, crowds of other civilians poke their heads up and above the crowd to even get a glimpse of who could be in that mysterious car. I'm stopped at a light but just close enough to snag a fair glance of a familiar face. He has sunglasses on and a white t-shirt just grazing the top of his waistline.

There are screams getting noisier and noisier as girls, teens, and women surround him in awe. He waves, flashes a smile at everyone, and gets led into the stadium with four surrounding bodyguards. Harry Styles made it to San Diego.

I'm at a loss of words. Not that I'm near anyone or anything to be saying, "Holy shit, Harry's here. Harry, the one that I grew up with. Harry, the guy that nearly pissed himself before getting onstage on the XFactor. Harry, the one who accidentally gave me the largest hickie on my neck when we were sixteen."

I shake the thoughts out of my head and pursue my way back on track for lunch.

Miles is waiting at the front of the cafe on his phone with his shades just above his nose. I walk past him into the seating area and he catches my arm, "You are such a sore loser, Mads. Nearly gassed you the entire way. I beat you here by like 6 minutes. Did you take a detour or some shit?"

He's laughing at me entirely and I smile along with him. Miles had the power to do that to everyone he met, which made me love his company even more.

"I saw some commotion near Petco and wanted to see who it could be."

His eyes open wide as he lays his sunglasses on top of his head, "Well, who the hell was it, and did you get any pictures?" At this point, I feel like he's being the most theatric person, ever.

I roll my eyes and set my hands on the table, "No, I couldn't tell exactly who it was but there was a ton of paparazzi and a shit load of girls. Take your best guess, Daley."

"Mmmm..." He pauses, "It's gotta be Pitbull." We look at each other seriously then burst out into tummy-aching laughs.

Miles and I both order the same exact thing whenever we're here: Shrimp Corn Cake and the Traditional Burgundy Sangria.

"So, tell me about your exciting interviews coming up," I blatantly ask Miles. His hazel eyes are wandering around the area like an overprotective dad would do in any given situation. He fixes his gaze on me after a second.