Check, Please?

Chapter 20

Something that I loved to do - aside from watching strangers in public and trying to guess their story with Harry - was sitting back and remembering how I met people.  

I was just emerging as an accomplished photographer, especially in the fashion world.  I recently graduated from NYU, Harry and I had just bought our apartment just a few minutes away from the studio I just created and only a little ways away from my mother’s grave.  I was happy and full of excitement for the bright future that I could spot off on the distance.  I had a camera, some new money, sobriety, and my best friend by my side.

The one thing I didn’t have was a lamp.  No matter what kind of light bulbs we used for the ceiling light, the living room was dark as ever.  I blamed the random brick wall behind the television.  I remember leaving Harry early that morning when he was still asleep to go out shopping.  Just outside the city was a small, inexpensive furniture store where Harry and I purchased most of our basic furniture for the apartment – beds, dressers, mirrors… all that jazz.  The place was dark and dusty, obviously not a place that many people came.  Once you got past the moldy smell of the building, it wasn’t bad.  The quality of the different pieces of furniture was surprisingly good.  I looked around at the selection of lamps that they had on display, lifting each of the colorless cloth lampshades and peeking under them like there was some sort of surprise waiting for me.   I flipped over the price tags and read the numbers despite the fact that I had just gotten paid from my first shoot with Calvin Klein… and I really had nothing to worry about monetarily for a few years, at least.

“Are ye looking fer a certain kind of lamp?”

The man’s strong Irish accent caught me off-guard.  “No,” I said quickly, grinning and turning to face him. “Just looking.”

He was cute.  His little blonde spiky hair stood up all around his head and his blue eyes glimmered playfully despite the dim lighting of the building.  “Well just let me know if I can help ye.” He leaned closer to me. “I really need to make a sale today though, so if ye could help me out in any way I would love you forever.  M’name is Niall.”  As he grinned, I spotted some clear braces lining his teeth.

I laughed shook his outstretched hand. “Scotlan.”

His eyes widened. “Scotlan Ray?”

In a studio, having someone recognize my name wouldn’t have been anything weird, but having the furniture salesman outside of the city in a run-down store was.  I nodded slowly. “Yes…  How did you know?”

“It’s not every day you meet a girl named Scotlan in New York.  Oh my god,” Niall began to hyperventilate. “Holy shit it’s my lucky day.”

“Niall!” Someone shouted from across the empty store.  From the looks of his stiff suit and graying hair, I assumed it was the supervisor. “What have I said about that language in here??”

Niall bounced up and down. “I don’t remember, I’m a bit hungover right now and also in shock-“ He looked back at me and lowered his voice.  “I’m Niall Horan,” he told me again quickly, shaking my hand over and over.  “I’ve been watching for your name in the magazines.  My dad called me a pansy when I told him I wanted to be a model and then he kicked me out of th’ house and I left the country and came here and I’ve been trying so hard to find someone who might give me just a chance.  Please let me prove myself to you, I’m really good at posing and-“ he stepped back and jumped on the bed behind him.  He stood tall and tore his button-down shirt open, revealing a nice 6-pack and some rather attractive chest hair.

“NIALL HORAN!” His supervisor shouted as he rushed around benches, chairs, and desks to get to us.

Niall jumped down and took my hand again. “Please, I swear I won’t let you down.  I’d be forever in your debt.  I’ve seen your recent work with Harry Styles and I can just tell you’re going to go so far and to be a part of that with you-“