Summer '18 / H.S.

01

Nice, France
June 2018

Mallory internally cringed when she recalled the story. Such a cliché, she thought. Nonetheless, she was shocked with how far Harry had come. It felt like watching a whole different person on the stage; not the shaking kid in the London pub, not the guy who sang to her in the middle of the night. This was a new version of Harry Styles. And she would lie if she said she wasn't curious.

At one point during the perfomance, after the surprise on Harry's face wore off, he even winked at her. Mallory was thankful for the bar's darkness, because nodody could see the slight wash of pink on her cheeks.

However, she could not pay full attention to the singer she had met more than a year ago, because, after all, she was working that night. With the bar being so full, her colleagues needed her help. She wasn't being payed to stand around and drool over a handsome performer.

_/_

'So, did you like the show?'

Mallory was ready to throw the glass she was washing at the person who startled her, until she looked up and saw who it was. With his long, curly hair and his eyes as bright as ever, Harry was leaning over the bar and watching her wash the dishes. There was a smirk on his face that predicted the answer would be yes.

'I wouldn't know. I was working,' the girl with black, now tied up hair responded. She wasn't at all used to this new personality, and honestly, surprised at how informally he was speaking to her, as though they actually knew each other.

His voice was still low and had that funny accent. 'Were you now? I could swear I saw a girl who looked exactly like you in the audience. And she was certainly paying attention.'

Her back turned to him, Mallory smiled, rolling her eyes. She knew he knew it was her, but she felt like she had to continue their little act.

'Interesting. Seems like you know how to get people's attention now,' she accentuated the last word, wanting to somehow show him that she remembered. Him, London, how he was back then. She hoped he remembered her as well.

'I had a little help at my first show, from a person whose name I still don't seem to know.'

The girl turned around to face the much taller male.

'Mallory.' She streched her arm across the bar and waited for his.

'It only took a year and a half,' Harry said as they shook hands. 'So, Mal, what are your plans right now?'

She frowned. 'Don't call me that.' Harry tilted his head in confusion.
'Mal, it means wrong. French 101.'

He laughed. A genuine, bold laugh. 'Well, not in English. And we are speaking English, aren't we?'

Mallory wasn't laughing. Harry seemed surprised that she was actually offended. 'Alright then, does Mallory have any plans for tonight?'

The smile reappeared on her face. 'Aside from washing dishes, considering it's almost 3 am, I think my plan is to go home and sleep. What about you?'

What about you? Mallory felt like she was back in English class, when the teacher made the students ask each other 'How was your day?' 'Good, what about you?' 'Fine, I watched TV, what about you?' and it kept going on until they eventually have to say goodbye! Mallory feared that the goodbye! part was approaching in their conversation.