Father's Day Terrors

World of stairs

✰Harry's P.O.V✰

Harry woke up.

Did he seriously dream all of that? It was magical, and he wished he never awoke from his slumber on his desk. His inner dreams was put together into one, his dreams of having a TV show. A dream of leaving a repetitive life.
But the dream wasn't what woke him up. It was the sound of one of his business partners speaking to him, holding out a file full of papers. He looked down to Harry, and asked,

"Will you file these files, please?"

Harry wasn't sure how many things was in his mind, but he responded after one moment of piecing together what he should focus on.
"Uh, yeah."
He took the files, staring at it for a moment. He became lost in thought, thinking about his dream yet again. What could it mean? He swore he could see a silly face singing on the documents. He knew it was just him, but the thought of the files dancing and singing amused him. He looked back to his co-worker.
"But wouldn't it be funny- if- uh, one of these files came alive? Yeah-.." Harry said partly without thinking. He started moving the document around, singing softly to himself, and partly to his co-worker.
"I am a file and you... put documents in me... doo do doo dooo, a file-"
He stopped singing for a moment, realizing that nearby co-workers that were trying to work before this act were now looking at him strangely.
"You- Y'know, I- did it like a song." He looked at his duplicate in front of him, awaiting a response from him. He wasn't sure if what he did was embarrassing or just weird.
The workmate stared at him judgementally, before responding with a monotone voice, the same as Harrys voice.
"That sounds really boring."
Harry sat silently, putting the files on his desk, as what many of co-workers would've said he should have done instead of making a scene.
Harry's co-worker walked away, and everyone that was looking at him before went back to their business, doing digital writing and signing contracts for a Father's Day gift sale the company was planning.
But everything in the world around Harry wasn't something he wanted to spend every day of his life with. He wanted to do something different, not something very normal in the world. That's what made it intriguing.

Lunchtime rolled around the corner, and he went to a club to eat like he did when he was thinking deeply. And at that moment, he indeed was thinking deeply. What could he do? He didn't have stilts to stand on, knowing the world he lived in. Everyone liked everything to be bland, undecorated. Repetitive.
He couldn't imagine anything that could change their mind.
He perked his head up.
That's it!
He could change their mind, possibly. He hoped. Well, even if he couldn't, he had to try.

Fifteen minutes passed, and Harry walked over to a platform that you could call a stage, after changing out of his suit and leaving them on his table. There was already someone there performing, playing the piano. They were thrashing the keys, making sounds that you, the reader, would find unenjoyable.
Harry stepped on stage, staring at the performer, waiting for him to notice, and maybe stopping his show there.
Eventually, they did realize Harry standing a few steps away, standing up and grabbing his piano sheets in an annoyed manner.
"Well, That's rude! No clothes.." They grumbled, before stepping off stage, and out of the club.
Harry looked over to his audience, and stared for a moment. He put down a radio that he found on the floor over by the entrance on the floor beside him. It started playing music, like its supposed to.

"What's your favorite idea? Mines being creative." Harry started to sing, not very good, but he did so. He got out a green puppet wearing a trench coat, resembling a bird of some sort. He made the voice for it. " 'How do you get the idea?' I just try thinking creatively."
All eyes were on him.
Are they changing their mind?
Harry got out an orange and seemed to examine it.
"When you look at this orange tell me please, what do you see?"
He got out another puppet, a yellow one with a blue tuft of hair. He made the voice for that one, too.
" 'It's just a boring old orange!' Maybe to you, but not to me. I see a silly face, walking along and smiling at me."
There was a boo from within the crowd, and others joined in on it.
Harry kept singing, seemingly not hearing the booing from the crowd, and more booing kept on.

"I don't like it!"
"Really not good!"
"It's really not good at all!"
"Not good!"

Harry acknowledged the negative feedback and stopped singing, feeling his anxiety rise. He peered over the crowd, they seemed agitated, bored, not very enthusiastic about what they were hearing. At this point, you'd be looking over a sea of rocks.
Harry didn't realize at the time, but the only person who wasn't booing was someone over in the corner, seemingly in thought after Harry's performance.

Harry awkwardly walked off stage, the weight of the anxiety that happened up there on his shoulders. He walked back over to his table, picking up his clothes, walking into a restroom and throwing them back on.
When he returned to his table, a tall, thin yellow man was sitting on a stool at his table. At first, Harry thought that this person simply took his spot without realizing he was away, but then the man looked over to him, like he was inviting him over for a chat. So Harry, not knowing what else he was to do, sat down, trying to think of a way to say hello, especially after what happened up on the stage.
"Uhh.. Hi. I'm Harry, uh, I like.."
Dammit. He wouldn't be a conversation starter in a scenario like this.
The man stared at him, and slid a blue paper over to Harry. Was it a letter? An invitation?
"Please read it." The man spoke quietly. He seemed like he didn't want to speak much either.
Harry looked at the letter, then the man. He picked up the letter, and read it silently.

' Hello, my name is Roy. Good to meet you.
I think that your mind is in the right place, and it was a wonderful idea to start on stage with people who don't think like you staring right into your eyes. It compels me to see how far you'll go.
I'm making a kids show, and I feel like you'd be happy to join and help me with it. Even if you don't, it is ok. This is entirely up to you.
If you are indeed interested, my address is at the bottom. Thank you.

-Roy '

Harry looked up at Roy.
This was a perfect opportunity to leave a bland life. He could do this, he was eager to.
He smiled, though it wasn't very visible due to his hair literally looking like he threw a big red mop on his head. Harry thanked him.
"I'll be there, thanks Roy."
Roy stood up from his stool, walked away from the table, and out of the club.