Until We Meet Again // H.S. AU

X. It Gets Worse

(song: janitor by young maverick)

Harry's POV

I've got the perfect idea to make Ren trust me again. I know she'll love it. She has to love it. She has to love me.

I practically run to my dad's office--all the way on the opposite side of the house from my bedroom--and look for his publicist's number. I'm going to need her help to get Ren to notice me. Once she sees what I'm doing on the news I know she'll realize I'm not that jerk she thinks I am.

Jane--the publicist--answers her cellphone on the fifth ring right before I'm about to hang up.

"Jane Nordum speaking," she monotonously spoke through the phone.

"Jane, it's Harry Styles."

"Oh, hello Harry. May I ask why you're calling me? I don't recall having an appointment with your father today..."

"No it's not about my dad, I was actually wondering if you would help me with something."

"Oh. Of course, what do you need help with?"

I inform her of what I'm doing--excluding the part about Ren of course--and after a while of me begging she finally agrees, but if she gets in trouble with my dad then I have to take the blame, which I have no problem with. I don't care if I get in trouble for using my father's publicist for my own publicity, as long as I get to show Ren just how much I care and prove to her that I'm not the jerk she thinks I am.

• • •

Jane and I drive down to the old soup kitchen I used to visit when I was younger. I'm surprised I even remember this place. When I was four years old, Mrs. Ludlow used to bring us here once a week to help the people less fortune than us. I never understood how they were less fortunate, I thought they were just like us--the older version--a bunch of people from different parents who lived together. I thought they actually had it better than us because we would cook for them and give them food and everything. I didn't realize they were helpless and homeless people. Man, this building brings back memories. I park my white Mercedes in front of the building and turn off the engine. I decided to bring my cheapest car out of the eight that I have since we're visiting a place full of people who can't afford more than half of the cars I own.

"Harry are you sure about this?" Jane asks me and I can tell that she doesn't want to help me and risk losing her job as my father's publicist. I don't really care about her job though, I only want to make Ren realize I'm not who she thinks I am. That's all that matters right now.

"Of course I am."

We walk to the front door and I feel my palms start to sweat. I'm so nervous. What if Ren still hates me? What if she gets even more angry at me? She has no reason to get angry at me for this. I'm being nice, I'm feeding the homeless and volunteering at the soup kitchen. This is an act of kindness. She'll love it, I'm certain she will.

Cautiously, I pull the door open and walk inside with Jane following behind. She said a couple paparazzi would be here in a few minutes to take pictures of me. I walk further into the room and see Miss Betty standing behind the counter, wearing a hairnet, a dirty t-shirt and jeans, and an even dirtier apron. She looks the same as she always has, but I guess I don't since she doesn't recognize me as her favorite little "chef" from fifteen years ago.

"Miss Betty!" I exclaim as I get closer to her with a big smile.

"Hello dear," she smiles back, but I can see the confusion in her eyes.

"It's me, Harry! Remember back when I used to come here with all the others every week?"

Her eyes light up with recognition and she pulls me tightly into a hug which surprises me.