unlike her // h.s [Completed]

I

H.

It's been awhile since I've woken up in a hotel room. It feels so new to me after I haven't done any concerts following the band split. For a good amount of time, I felt like everyone forgot that I've even been here all along. Like they'd given up on me. It was like I was normal. It felt both bad and good. On one side, I could get away and be myself. Somewhere no one could find me. But on the other, I missed my fans. My family. They're proof that everything I've worked for existed. And it's about time that I show them that I'm still here for them.

My muscles ache once I sit up, causing me to groan. I stretch out my arms and wipe the sleep from my eyes. It was a long flight from London to New York. I've been on longer but I wasn't able to sleep. I was up writing songs with my band. If it weren't for them, my songs would suck. I really needed the help. I mean, I'm decent, but with the help of others, my writing gets better. And I get more creative.

My alarm rings as soon as I slide out of the rigid bed. How I woke up before my alarm? I don't know. I got a maximum of four hours of sleep last night. I turn the buzzer off and head into the bathroom. Once I turn on the light and I am faced with my reflection, I groan louder. "Oh God." My hair is disheveled and I am pale from the lack of sleep.

I take a quick shower, get dressed, and do all of the morning essentials like any other person. My hair is now looking decent but there is just one piece that won't stay down. I quit messing with it and keep it sticking up. This should be my new signature look after I cut my hair.

I used to be 'that one long haired one' but now I am 'the one with the cowlick'. Sounds like it'll stick. Get it? Stick. No? Okay.

But still, even after freshening up, I am still knackered. I decide to get coffee. Instead of having the hotel coffee, I choose to go into downtown New York City just to get an iced latte. Or just a tea with a teaspoon of milk. I am very picky about my drinks.

I pick up my trench coat, that still surprisingly fits me, and my keys. I shove them into my pocket and head down the stairs of the hotel. "Goodmorning Mr. Styles." The man at the front desk greets me. Walking past him, I do a little salute with my index and middle finger and mumble a quick 'Morning' before rushing out the door.

The cool air stings my cheeks and I suck in a deep breath of crisp NYC air. Tastes like Winter, pollution, and cigarettes. It's not even Winter but it's always cold here. At least, it is whenever I'm here. I smack my lips to try and get the taste out and end up spitting onto the sidewalk. Classy, Styles, classy.

I shove my hands deep into my pockets and pause in front of the hotel parking lot. There's a road filled with honking cars and buses. Pursing my lips, I walk down the crowded sidewalk and put my hood up over my head. Now that I've released my debut song, there have been paparazzi following me everywhere, causing fans to notice me. Of course, I love my fans. But sometimes they distract me from where I'm going. And I always feel bad when I don't get the chance to take pictures with every one of them. But some days should just be me days. But I'd never give up the opportunity to meet my fans. They make me happy. And I hope I do the same for them.

The last time I was in New York was with the boys. I remember the same diner we'd head to when we wanted to get a tea or a bite to eat. Magnolia's is what it's called.

I slide through everyone on the busy streets. People talking on their phones. Crying kids. People smoking. And beggars that live in-between buildings. Every time I get the chance to stop by a homeless person, I give them a proper 20 U.S dollars. It's worth their smile every time.

I reach the familiar mint green building with the word 'Magnolia' printed on top in a light brown colour. I push past a few people. "Excuse me," I mumble to a girl.

"Oh my gosh. It's Harry Styles!" The girl squeals, gripping my sleeve. She pulls out her phone immediately and unlocks her camera. "Can I get a picture?"

I nod mercilessly and lean down, pressing my head against her shoulder. I smile slightly as she presses the capture button a few times. She thanks me and sticks by my side asking me tons of questions which are drowned out by the sounds of more girls (and guys) surrounding me. A few people pull on my sleeves. A few rip out their phones and snap loads of pictures. I try and get in as many as I can as questions swirl. "Can you sign this?" "Can I get a picture?" "Are you dating her?" "Can you say hi to my friend?"

I blow a quick kiss to the crowd and am able to squeeze through the what seems to be a mob forming. "Love you all," I say blandly with a smile and push open the diner doors. There are a few tables that are occupied but they don't seem to be busy. Once I walk in, I recognize the lady behind the counter when I was last here. She looks to be in her 60's. I distinctively remember her name. Marge, I'm sure.

"Oh, Harry!" She yells, rushing over to me. Her fragile arms wrap around me and she squeezes as tightly as she can. I laugh and hug her too, patting her back. She pulls away, her hands still on my shoulders, and she just smiles. "You've been gone for a while."

"I have," I state, nodding. "A lot has been going on." My hair flops in front of my eyes and I push it back.

"I've been watching you on the tv!" She exclaims.

I purse my lips to keep back a smile. "I came back just for you." I wink.

She slaps my arm playfully. "Oh, you." She laughs. "Follow me." I scuffle behind her and she takes me to the table that I've always sat at. Sliding into the chair, I sigh happily. It's nice to just be somewhere where no one knows you. Older people usually don't listen to my type of music. So, they just look at me and move on with their day. "I'll have a waitress out in a jiffy!"

"Sounds good," I reply, picking up the menu. My eyes scan across the words, finding unfamiliar foods which had to have been added since I've been gone. But, low and behold, I find my favorite thing on the menu. The blueberry muffins. So, I fold the menu back up and slide it across the table. I patiently wait for my service, looking out the windows.

Fans are still crowded around but security had arrived and they were pushing them back. I frown and trace circles on the table with my finger. That's one of the things I dislike. How the police or security just push away my fans. Like Niall had said once, "They pay my bills, not you."

Sweet, sweet Niall. I laugh at myself and shake my head. "Excuse me, sir," A young ladies voice rings. I blink and look at her. She's cute. Not like a hot-cute. But like, cute. She has long hair- sun kissed, I suppose. And deep sea-blue eyes. Very adorable. Looks like she's in high school.

"Uh, sorry," I murmur and end up with a laugh.

She smiles and shrugs. "It's okay- wait, do I know you?"

I purse my lips which grows into a full grown grin. "You might recognize me from-"

She cuts me off by waving her hand. "Nah, nevermind. My mind is playing tricks on me. Would you like to order, or do you need more time?" She pushes back her hair.

I sputter, "Uh- yeah, yeah. Um, sure- uh." This girl doesn't know who I am? A teenage girl? Weird. But, I kind of like the feeling. The feeling of someone meeting me for who I am, not how I am portrayed. I chuckle. "Iced latte with a blueberry muffin, please."

"Sure thing, I'll be back in a moment." Her eyes sparkle as she smiles. She practically glows while she walks away.

My curious mind kicks into full gear and it drives me wild.

I need to find out who this girl is.