Milky Coffee (1D)

Chapter Five

(Harry Styles P.O.V)

I felt really guilty. I mean, really, guilty. After only being able to drive for a year, and coming to the States from England where we drove on the left side, it wasn't really my fault. Okay, so it was. It most definitely was my fault that I hit that poor girl. Who, coincidentally, I never got the name of, and giving her tickets was not the way to go. That is not how you make up hurting someone pretty badly.

Thinking about the incident wasn't going to help. I needed to get to the hospital pretty soon, and I couldn't hit any more pedestrians. I'd see that girl in two days, where I could again apologize. If she comes to the concert with her friend of course, but I doubt that will happen. She made up a fake friend who was 'in the hospital' and she'd sell or give away the tickets. It's a shame she won't give us a shot, my band, Vintage Streak, wasn't that bad. We were good enough to be playing at a charity concert at the local hospital, I suppose. With an hour left, I had to get to the hospital fifteen minutes away without hurting myself, others, or Vintage Streak's reputation. Tough.

The traffic was surprisingly easy going for Independence Day. Maybe no one was going to the hospital, or everyone was already where they needed to be. I rushed down the highway, usually my band mates were late, and I at least wanted to get there before the ten-minutes-until-showtime mark. Really, these people in the hospital, the cancer ward to be specific, needed something to cheer them up. Today was supposed to be a holiday, and these poor people were stuck in the hospital with cancer. If the boys are late today, I'll slap them. A quick ten minutes later, I was parking outside the massive building. Beautiful trees were around the lobby where a few benches stood. I walked through the automatic door up to the reception desk.

"Hello," I spoke softly, not wanting to disturb. A twenty-something year old lady looked up and smiled at me.

"Hi," she purred. "I take it you aren't here for a patient, am I right?" Of course she was implying something else. Of course. I shook my head and clarified,

"I'm part of the band supposed to play here? Vintage Streak?" I looked up hopefully as she exclaimed,

"Vintage Stake?! I love that band!" Obviously she didn't. She said stake. I mean, c'mon. Try a little harder.

"Nice try, Vintage Streak," I enunciated, "Thank you, though. If you could just point me in the right direction, that'd be great. And if you spoke the directions clearly, that'd help too, thanks." She simply nodded and perfectly told me to go down the hall to the auditorium, which I apparently couldn't miss. I thanked her yet again as I heard her mumble,

"Sassier than that girl with the sick friend." Well, maybe someone with a sick friend has the right to be sassy, huh lady? I was oddly defensive against her-- it was just the vibe she gave me. Maybe she was really nice and I was just being a jerk. As soon as I reached the auditorium, I saw many volunteers setting up chairs and a wide open space.

"Can I help? I'm part of the band," I told the man supervising this action.

"Oh no, not at all, uh, Harry, I take? My director told me that the curly-haired one was the lead singer and should be here first. You can wait in the courtyard, it's just to the right and out the glass doors." I nodded, slightly peeved that I couldn't help. My feet shuffled as I left the tile floored room and walked down the hallway. Finally, I reached the glass door, which was really much further than I expected. I pushed and I pushed but I just couldn't get the door to budge.

"You pull it, honey," a maternally-sounding woman told me.

"OH!" I whispered and yanked it open and turned around, "Thank you, uh, sorry, what's your name?"

"I'm Dr. Brooks. Typically, I'm an employee here, but my daughter is rather unwell. You may see me as a nurse practitioner here sometimes if you're planning to come back often, but I'm only part time. Seeing my daughter is more important, y'know?" She had tears welling up in her eyes, and I couldn't just stand there awkwardly. I shut the door and hugged her as she sobbed into my chest, seeing as she was almost five inches shorter than me, even with heels. She cried for a minute or two before collecting herself.