Taste (H.S. / A.U.)

Chapter 8

MITCH ROWLAND

"Can we stop up here on the right please." I point towards the Walgreens on the corner, navigating the Taxi-driver. "I forgot my hair-ties I think." Harry gives me a quick nod before pulling his attention back towards his phone, scanning through emails. He had been doing it ever since we landed, which isn't surprising because I know he was waiting for a certain one, but I wanted him to calm his nerves and stop checking.

The windiness of New York was going to drive me mad if I had to deal with it without being able to tie back my hair. I figured we should stop before getting to the hotel anyway. "I am surprised you picked the Park Hyatt for us. I thought last time you said you weren't a fan of staying in Midtown Manhattan because of the Live on Tour incident." Harry shot me a glance of green eyes filled with worry momentarily, because I think it slipped his mind.

Harry often does try his best to put out of mind the idea of stalkers, because he knows it happens, and it is unavoidable, but that doesn't make it any easier or more welcoming. That particular incident was really bad because a girl disguised herself as house-keeping and tried to break into the room to steal some of Harry's things, but he happened to be in the room at the time.

Was Harry rude? Did he freak out? Did he call the police?

No. None of it. Instead, he asked her to not do it again. Gave her an autograph. Took the key from her, which he returned to the front desk. Still was polite enough to pose for a photo when she asked, and sent her on the way. I know the guy says to treat people with kindness, but he does it at his own expense sometimes.

The car bumps along the curb and the driver curtly shouts the total at us, not even noticing who is in the vehicle. That was the entire reason we picked the taxi. When we were at the airport and Harry was not getting noticed we decided to use it to our advantage and try to get to the hotel quickly since it was getting later in the day and we wanted at least some time to decompress before a day of rehearsing and screaming people.

I wind through aisles finding a few things we might need, meanwhile Harry stuffed his phone in his pocket along with his hands. Harry often takes his rings off when he walks around in public like this, which most people don't consider because it is one thing that people recognize him so easily by.

Harry Styles iconic hands.

Harry Styles iconic rings.

Hell. People write fanfiction about the guy, and he knows the truth about what they think about him, say about him, and the tiktoks that exist. He stuffs the rings into his pockets just for one more thing people to not right away see and realize that is Harry Styles.

Harry juts his chin towards a bag of popcorn, his guilty pleasure. Harry likes popcorn of any kind. kettle corn, caramel corn, cheesy popcorn, butter, anything. I grab the bag and we make our way towards the cash register. I wait for the total and swipe my card as Harry awkwardly stands behind me, something we have grown accustomed to doing.

The rest of the way to the hotel is a short walk, we had the bags delivered straight from the airport earlier, which made it easier on us. New York was an interesting place. Harry used to have a place here, and he only sold it about a year ago because he said he just knew he wasn't spending the time here and someone else should have it to appreciate it more.

I believe other than MSG, it would be obsolete from his existence. Harry doesn't particularly like the east coast, and I don't blame him. His favorite part of America is always California or the warmer areas where there are beaches. For me, I like the mountains, or anywhere I can go on a good hike and see some wildlife.