notebook [H.S]

t h r e e

I look at my report card and sigh. Fail, fail, fail, pass. It isn't my fault I can't study, I just look at the questions and I can't understand them. I throw the report card onto my bed and continue looking through my drawers. I thought it would be a good idea to clean through my room. I didn't think I'd get so frustrated after finding everything. At the bottom of the drawer, I see some familiar photographs piled messily in the corner. I take a deep breath and proceed to pick them up. Pictures of my father, my mother and the old piano that used to haunt me every day. I could still hear the haunting notes, feel the sense of dread I used to suffer through every year, and smell the evocative material of the stool. The memories that came with the photographs, they were too much for me. The silence, the suffering, the dread I used to feel engulfed me. I was alone. Even V wasn't there for me.

Not only alone, I had no money. I could never stay put in one job, it ended up leaving me. I always seem to mess things up. 
At the bottom of the photographs, there is a single card unlike the rest. I pick it up and examine the neat, elegant handwriting and the simple designs acting as a border. I completely forgot about this. It was that card the Harry guy gave to me. 

I don't have much time but..." He gives out a card that has a phone number and his email written neatly on it. "If you call my assistant, they will explain everything you need to know. Trust me."

The card, as promised, has a phone number and an email. I mean, why shouldn't I call? I need the money and plus, Harry Styles liked my performance. 

I pick up my phone and dial the number 

084 3455 0050

Ring

          Ring

                       Ring

                                    Ring

After what feels like forever, someone picks up.

"Hello, Kim Seokjin of HSHQ speaking."

"Uh... hi... I was told to call this number to talk to... Henry ..."  Ugh what was it again?  "Styles...?"

"Ah the piano girl right? It's about time! I've been waiting for you to call for a week. I'm glad you took up the offer, Mr Styles is very excited to work with you, he's been bugging me all morning!"

What?

"I'm sorry I'm a little confused... work with him? What are you talking about?"

I can almost hear his eye roll. "You ask a lot of questions don't you. I'll contact you with the address, and you can ask him yourself."

This is starting to feel like a bad idea.

"Uh... okay thank you... I think?"

"Great, hope to see you soon.... and it's Harry by the way."

"What?"

"If you're going to work with him you may as well know his name."

Before I could change my mind about this entire thing he puts the phone down, and I'm met with the long beep of a hung up call.

I guess I know what I'm doing with my weekend.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A coffee shop??

For a 'celebrity' he doesn't seem to be very professional. He's probably some small Soundcloud artist who bribed his friend into putting the assistant act on.

So why have I spent the past four hours trying to find an outfit. 

The tiny café huddle among the huge city buildings and run down apartments.  Hundreds of people rush by it, outside the crowded street. The half a dozen customers quickly glance up as the door swings open, bringing with it a blast of cold wind. Unlike outside, the interior of the café is warm and cheery, with bright lights and colourful walls. The customers return to their conversations as the door swings closed behind me, except for the tall, sweater-clad man sat in a cubicle on the left of me. I find myself making eye contact, and he waves me forward before I can look away.

I sit down opposite him, trying to decide whether I trust him. On closer examination he looks like he rushed here much like I did, his hair obviously quickly smoothed down after getting caught in the wind. But then I look at his eyes again. 

His eyes are as vibrant as the last time I saw him. Like the bright stars in the dark night sky, the light of the glowing sun. Somehow they remind me of all my good memories, make me forget about those dreadful photographs and help me feel a part of this world again.

"Phoenix, you okay?"

Had I been staring? Oh god I'd been staring. 

"Yep!" you could almost see the fake cheeriness coming off me "So... what exactly am I here for....?"

He smiles. "You're very talented you know. I've never seen someone play like that, it's like the piano was apart of you. Incredible."

I start to blush. I'd never really been complimented on my musical skills, Mother simply saw it as a path to her own success. 

"I'm sure I don't need to introduce myself formally, so let's get right to it-" 

Does everyone know this guy? Do I live under a rock?

"- I'd like to hire you and your talents. I've been looking for a pianist for a long time and no one has really had it. You know what I mean?"

I don't think it matters whether or not I do, because I zoned out after the word 'hire'. Hire me? Like a job? Like money?

"- I'm very flexible with schedules and pretty generous with pay. I'd make it worthwhile! And, if it hasn't sold you already, you'll get to work with the Harry Styles." he wiggled his eyebrows.

This guy is a dork and I have to have him as my boss?

The words 'pay' and 'money' are very appealing though...

A/N hi everyone!! Thanks so much for all the reads. Really didn't expect it

Have a great day :3

Did u like the bts crossover heheh

How's quarantine going for u guys ??