*this is a 70s!rockstar!Harry Styles au fanfic... i mean... he just radiates 70s!rockstar*
The 70s. A time of free love and music. And that's exactly what reader gets into when meeting the newly famous rockstar Harry Styles: love and music.
Along w...
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Summary: reader meets up with harry at his hotel where he tries convincing her to join him on tour.
Note: grammar and spelling errors. **CONTINUING BASED ON DEMAND**
Warning: language
Words: 4.0k+
***May 27, 1975***
"So what do you think I should wear?" Holly asked, completely ignoring her work as usual as she bounced questions off of you.
"Who is the guy again?" you questioned, cleaning a pitcher behind the bar.
The bar hadn't been nearly as packed the night Harry Styles performed just nights ago.
But it was still the afternoon. Only an old couple sitting at the back of the room and a middle aged man sitting at the bar.
"Bobby. Curly blonde hair," she reminded, hand on her hip.
"The dress," you suggested. "The white one."
"You know, I was thinking that one too," she agreed. "White looks good on me and-" but she couldn't finish her sentence. Her eyes bugged out.
"And why is he here?"
"Huh?" you scrunched your face. "Bobby?"
"Tell me why he is walking towards us."
"Who!?" you squawked.
Your back had been facing the door. Holly's eyes were on the entrance.
"Tell me why Harry Styles is looking at you and walking towards us. Tell me why he's smiling," she rambled, her face petrified as she tried to remain cool.
"What!?" you squawked again, ready to turn around before your friend demanded, "Don't look!"
"Hi," a familiar voice spoke. Deep and British. Making him stand out among the American accents in the room.
It obviously came from the brunette male standing right in front of you with hands clasped together atop of the bar table, a shiny and cheeky smile on his face as he looked at you.
None other than Harry Styles.
"Gin rickey, was it?" he asked, referring to the night he asked you for that exact drink.
"Yes," you nodded.
"(Y/N)," Holly spoke under her breath as she gritted her teeth. She wanted an explanation.
But feeling Holly right up against you gave you an idea to get out of the situation.
"This is... Holly," you introduced. "Holly, Harry. Harry, Holly. Holly will take care of-"
