Forever (Brittany Broski X Harry Styles)

Chapter 1

Brittany's POV

The bell above the door jingles as customers come and go, but the book shop remains dead silent... as always. The soft hum of indie music plays in the background, blending with the faint rustling of pages. I'm sitting behind the counter, my chin propped up on my hand, completely and utterly bored. The stack of books I need to catalog sits untouched next to me. I've been much too busy staring at the same page of my novel for the past fifteen minutes.

I glance at the clock. Two hours until my shift ends. With a sigh, I look around the bookstore. The familiar sight of mismatched bookshelves, cozy reading nooks, and old wooden floors brings me a small sense of comfort, even if today is dragging on.

My thoughts are interrupted when my co-worker, Trixie, bounces over with her usual boundless energy. She's holding a stack of flyers and grinning from ear to ear.

"Guess what?" she says, practically vibrating.

I raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"I just scored tickets to Harry Styles's concert this Wednesday! Can you believe it?"

My mind is blank, "Who's that?" I ask.

Trixie's jaw drops, she looks at me like I've just told her I've never heard of pizza or Netflix or  makeup.

"You're- you are kidding me, right? Harry Styles? The pop star? Used to be a member of One Direction," she tells me this like it is supposed to make me recollect something, but I don't know what One Direction is either.

I shrug. "You know I don't keep up with that stuff. My music taste is a little... niche."

"Well, you're missing out! He's amazing. His concerts are legendary. I've been trying to get tickets for ages, and I finally got lucky, in a RAFFLE of all things! Can you believe?" she gushes, clutching the flyers to her chest.

I smile at her enthusiasm. "Sounds like you're in for a good time. Maybe you can tell me all about it after," I turn back to my book.

Trixie grins, "I'll do you better than that. I'll bring you one of his albums! You should at least give him a listen. Who knows? You might like it!"

I shrug, but then nod, not really convinced but willing to humor her. "Sure, why not?"

The bell jingles again, and Trixie hurries off to help a customer, leaving me to my thoughts. I pick up my book and try to read, but my mind keeps wandering. Harry Styles, huh? I make a mental note to check out his music later, if only to understand why Trixie is so obsessed.

The last hours of my shift drag on at the same pace, and when I finally leave I can't help but turn my face up towards the rainy sky, feeling the light patter of cold rain on my face. I breath in refreshing air and head towards my apartment. When I push open the door, the familiar scent of lavender and old books welcomes me home. As soon as I step inside, Rumple, my scruffy weiner dog, bounds over to me, wagging his tail furiously.

"Hey, buddy!" I laugh, kneeling down to give him a good scratch behind the ears. He responds with enthusiastic licks to my face, making me giggle. "Did you miss me?"

I stand up and head to the kitchen, Rumple trotting along at my heels. I fill his bowl with kibble and fresh water, watching as he dives in with gusto. After a moment, I head to my room to get ready for tonight's performance.

I kept myself busy with the occasional performance at a local cafe every Sunday, singing a few songs to a small crowd. Every week I would sing different songs I enjoy, and every week, the same people show up. 

My room is a cluttered haven of mismatched furniture, vintage posters, and fairy lights strung across the ceiling. I walk over to my closet, rifling through my collection of clothes. After a few minutes, I settle on a vintage floral dress with a flared skirt. I pair it with my favorite pearl earrings.I slip into the dress and twirl in front of the mirror, watching the skirt flare out around me. Satisfied, I move to my vanity and start applying a bit of makeup. Just a touch of eyeliner and some lip gloss—enough to feel put together without losing my natural look.

Rumple wanders into the room, watching me with his big, brown eyes. "Do you think I look okay, Rumple?" I ask, turning to him. He cocks his head to one side, and I take that as approval.

My stomach flutters with a mix of nerves and excitement. Performing at The Goocher Café is always a thrill. I head to the living room and double-check my bag, making sure I have everything I need. Rumple watches me from his spot on the couch, his head resting on his paws."I won't be out too late, buddy," I promise, giving him one last pat on the head. "Be good while I'm gone."
The evening air is cool and crisp as I walk down the bustling streets of downtown. The city is alive with the sounds of traffic, distant music, and the chatter of people enjoying the evening. As I turn the corner, a massive billboard catches my eye. It's for Harry Styles's upcoming concert, his face larger than life and lit up against the evening sky. He's striking a confident pose, his piercing green eyes looking out over the city with a hint of a smile. The name "Harry Styles" is emblazoned in bold letters above him. I stop for a moment, staring up at the billboard. I remember Trixie's excitement about getting tickets to his concert and how she couldn't believe I'd never heard of him. There he is, looking every bit the pop star she described, exuding charm and grace.

"What must it be like," I muse to myself, "to be that famous?" To have your face plastered all over the city, to have millions of fans screaming your name, hanging on to your every word and song. It must be exhilarating, but also exhausting. To never have a moment of true privacy, always under the watchful eye of the public. I can't imagine living a life like that.

I shake my head, trying to picture myself in his shoes. It's impossible. I love my quiet life, my little performances at the café, and the genuine connections I make with the people in my community. Fame like his would change everything. I wonder if he ever wishes he could just walk down the street without being recognized, just be a normal person for a while.With a final glance at the billboard, I continue my walk to the café. I turn my attention back to the night ahead, focusing on the music and the joy it brings me. Maybe someday I'll look into his music, just to see what all the fuss is about. But for now, I have my own small stage waiting for me, and that's enough.

 I step inside, ready to lose myself in the music and the magic of the night.