Fade {Harry Styles}

Chapter 2

"Louis. Please. It’s been a week and a half." Harry’s usually demanding voice was at no higher harshness than a whisper. He knew that Louis had nearly no weaknesses, but if he played his cards just right…

"I miss you guys. It’s so boring here." Harry whined, aware that he sounded childish but made no attempt to resolve it. "And the people talk funny." Louis snort was not one of pity. "Awe. The poor Harold. We’ll have management swoop right in to take you away from the horrible place with the funny talking people, alright?"

"Louuu." He let the name drawl out in a high pitched whine. "Please."

"No. I am not coming to Minnesota for a day to parade around with you." Louis barked over the phone. "We both know that you are going to ditch me the minute you see a girl anyway." 

Harry’s voice came out in an exasperated hiss. “That is not true.” He thought it wouldn’t be hard to persuade Louis to come visit for a day, given the fact they went from seeing each other every minute of every day to not even talking on the phone in over a week. “And you know it.”

A saddened sigh floated through Harry’s speaker, signaling that he wasn’t believed. “No Harry,” Louis lamented. “I don’t.”

"Well you should. I’m a changed man." Harry tried a different approach, one that still wasn’t going to go over well with Louis. "Harry," Louis started, his voice too sweet to be innocent. There was a hint of sour dripping from his tone, leading Harry to believe there was a snappy comment to come. 

"Grow up."

Click.

*    *    *

Harry didn’t know how to spend the day as himself. It felt good to be out of the scratchy vests and bow ties, fantastic to be exact. His hair curled familiarly at the nape of his neck and tight jeans hung at his hips. It was relieving to shake the acquired Minnesotan accent from his tongue. He hated the stretched o’s and peppy sway of words. It made him sound — cheerful. As if he were happy to be surrounded by strangers who treated him as if he were one of them. A nobody.

Minneapolis was really nothing special compared to what he had seen. Sky scrapers were nothing out of the ordinary as were the sight of light rails and traffic. 

A cup of coffee was clutched in his long, curved fingers. The warmth was comforting on the autumn day. The air smelled of leaves although there was probably none for miles due to the city. A breeze whistled through the air, unheard over the noises of traffic.

"Harry!" He smiled, glad someone had spotted him.

"Harry Styles, omg!" The voice repeated at a rising tone in excitement. "Can I get a picture?" Harry turned to a group of young teenagers, no older than 15 gawking at him with wide eyes rimmed thickly by dark mascara. 

His smile was nearly sinister, oh how he had missed being the center of attention. 

Only a few brief minutes had passed before he was the center of a crowd. Fans of all ages called to him, cameras flashed and there were so many iPhones reaching for him that it seemed as if he was in an apple orchard.

The itch to autograph was momentarily relieved as he scribbled out his name on to shirts, books, magazines, cases, any object one could find.

And he loved every second of it.

*    *    *

A knock sounding at the door drew Harry’s gaze slowly from the glowing t.v. Nothing made him want to move, as for he was back to Marcel again. Being himself for the day was amazing. He greatly resembled a deprived drug addict who relapsed to feel the buzz once more. The attention was quite the rush. But now he was back to “rehab”.

The knock sounded again, more persistent than the first time. Maybe one of the boys had flown to Minnesota for a quick reunion. Maybe it was a member of management pursued with the mission of telling him he could quite the stupid act and come home where he belonged. Why they couldn’t just call him remained a mystery. Either scenarios didn’t make him get off the couch fast enough. He stood slowly, taking all the time in the world to slink to the door and pry it open.

To his surprise, Kelsey stood at the threshold. A friendly smile pulled her cheeks back to reveal pearly whites. “Hey there, neighbor!” She jabbered. Harry’s heart sunk to his toes. 

"Hey." His glasses had slipped down his nose, but he didn’t bother to push them up. If he were Harry, he probably would have shut the door in her face with no explanation, but Marcel was rather different. He at least had to try.

On the first day they had met, Marcel had thought Kelsey was a pretty girl, but seeing her day after day made him realize she was too — energetic — for him. Too peppy.

"Whatchya doing?" She pressed, clearly not taking the hint that he didn’t want to talk. Marcel pressed his lips to a thin line to keep the Harry in him from lashing out. He cleared his throat before answering.

"Stuff."

Kelsey raised a plucked eyebrow. “I’m really busy.” He insisted, “Right now is not a good ti—” “Busy watching Duck Dynasty I see.” Her eyes had roamed past him, landing on the television screen where a man with a graying, long beard sat talking in a thick southern accent with a teal plastic cup clutched in his bony fingers.

"Yes. It’s a marathon." 

Her lip stuck out in a pout too innocent to be real. “Is somebody trying to avoid me?

"No. Ignore is more of an accurate definition."

"Ouch." Her gray eyes were more playful than anything.

Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in a thick braid and swayed slightly as she waltzed through Marcel’s door. She turned as she strode past him, a smile playing on her delicate looking lips. 

"Excuse me but your apartment is that way." Marcel asserted, pointing a slender finger in the direction of down the hall. Kelsey’s smile didn’t waver a moment. "And so is the fun."

It was Marcel’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Something about the persistent girl was irritating to him, but he needed exactly that kind of push to get off his ass and quit moping around. “Most girl’s at least offer to take me out to dinner first. There’s a McDonald’t right across the street if you’re really that cheap.”

Kelsey rolled her large eyes and shook her head. Her braid swayed melodically across her back. 

"That’s not what I was saying."

"Really?" Marcel retaliated. As much as the situation prodded him annoyingly, he was enjoying being a smartass once again. "Because it sounded like you were inviting me to your apartment."

"No, I’m just trying to get you out of yours."

He paused, puzzled. His head cocked to the side in a silent question. It was strange, not having stray curls fall in his face, instead, his hair was slicked back and straight. A change that could take a while to get used to.

"Oh, come on!" She urged, throwing her hands up in the air, exasperated. "You need to get out. Do some fun things!"

Her small hand grasped his forearm, tugging him out the door. Surprisingly, he let her.

"There is nothing fun to do in small town, Minnesota." Marcel justified, but followed Kelsey down the lengthy hall regardless. "Then tell me something," She rounded, facing him. Her eyes met his, fearless. Challenging. Curious.

"Why did you move here then?"

Marcel opened his mouth as if to reply, but it fell closed with a lack of retaliation. All the things he had wanted to say were strictly off limits to admit. ‘I was forced by my management because I actually am a major star in a #1 band but I’ve been really stuck up lately so they figured this would do me good to go in disguise as this stupid Marcel guy to reconnect with the person I was before’ just didn’t sound right.

Instead, he only shrugged and followed her down 3 flights of steps and out the door.