Through the Lens

Peach Cobbler

Harry's POV

I was dripping with sweat as Ryan and I continued to lift the tree chunks into his truck bed, the sun beaming down on us while we chatted about various things. I worked out every day, jumped around on stage for two hours every night and did some pretty intense workouts with the trainer to prepare for my role in Dunkirk, but it had been a while since I did hard labor. I loved the feeling of using my muscles, feeling the burn had always been something I craved and I was enjoying just being outside in the fresh air. Plus, it was nice to be around people after a week of almost complete solitude.

Cash kicked his ball around the yard, we'd kick it back to him every once in a while when it would make its way over to us. He'd giggle and run after it before kicking it between the goalposts Ryan had set up and announcing he'd scored a goal.

"So, I take it you grew up here?" I asked Ryan as we both took an end of one of the larger chunks and headed towards the truck.

"Yep, born and raised." He said. "A lot has changed since then, but things seem to stay the same around here somehow." He laughed.

"Yeah, I think small towns tend to do that." I laughed as I thought of how little Holmes Chapel has changed even though it's been so long. "I grew up in a little village in England, every time I go back nothing seems to have changed."

"You don't still live in England then?" He asked as he threw the last piece of the tree into the truck and we started picking up the small pieces that were scattered around.

"Um, well I do, I guess." I said, finding it weird that I'd never really thought about it before. "I have a place there, but I have to spend a lot of time in LA for work so I guess I spend more time at my place there." I shrugged.

It was suddenly strange to me that I'd never really thought about where I actually lived. I realized I didn't really live anywhere, not full time anyway.

"LA eh? Fancy." Ryan chuckled as he playfully nudged me as he walked by on his way to throw more stuff in the truck. "What do you do?"

I paused for a second, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to answer in a way that begged more questions.

"I'm a musician. You?"

"Oh, that's cool." He said simply. "I run my dad's business. We do all kinds of repair stuff, I finished school to be an electrician and then went back to do carpentry, so we do all kinds of things. I've always liked working with my hands, making something out of nothing. Some days we fix people's broken stuff, the next day we're building them new stuff. It's pretty random, but we do pretty well."

"That's cool, family businesses are nice. Must be cool to work with your dad every day." I said as I finished gathering up the last bits and pieces of the tree and throwing them into the truck, officially finishing the job.

"Oh, uh no. My dad passed away a few years ago. We did work together before then, but he's been gone about three years now. I'm glad we had that time, though. We made some good memories." He sighed and pulled up the tailgate of the truck.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize." I said sincerely.

"No worries, bro. It is what it is." He sighed and I nodded, still feeling bad I brought it up. "Alright, I just gotta take this shit and get it out of my truck, drop it off at the lumber yard. They can sell it as firewood or something."

"Let's go." I said as I clapped him on the shoulder.

"No, you helped me load all this stuff up already, I'm not gonna make you unload it too." He chuckled. "Thanks though, that would have taken me all day without you."