the moon [h.s.] - EDITING

four.

Harry sits in his office cubicle. It's not small or cramped. His cubicle is next to the glass walls and it has a view of not the city, but the building across the street. His colleagues still envied it.

He leans back into his comfortable desk chair and lets his hand brush over the soft fabric of his sweater vest. It's fuzzy and it has little sheep all over it. He found a love for all things fashion in uni. There was this girl. She wore the utmost outfits to lectures and he admired it. He admired her high waisted trousers, her blazers, colorful blouses, sweater vests, and boots. It was sexy and she showed him her ways.

"Morning, boss!"

Harry looks up to see Nolan, the intern and his mentee. "I'm not your boss, Nolan. Good morning, though. How are you?"

The blond takes a desk chair from an empty cubicle and rolls it next to Harry. He takes a seat. "I'm good, good... School sucks ass, but I gotta keep going to take your job, sir."

Harry laughs. "Hey, that's no way to talk to your mentor. But I'd love to see you try and take my job."

"What is the famous 'H' going to write about in the next issue?" Nolan asks him. He's moving in his spinning chair from left to right.

Harry sighs. "Well, I want to write about stuff that matters, but Beth wants 'H' to write about flare jeans... Are you sure you still want to go into journalism?" He looks at Nolan. H is an alias Harry goes by. In every issue, his columns are always written by his alias and never by his full name, Harry Edward Styles. No one, but his closest friends and colleagues, knows who H really is.

Nolan shrugs. "It's too late to change my major... For the record, I think H always ends up writing about stuff that matters. It may not be exactly what you've wanted to write in the first place, but to other people what you write matters a lot."

Harry listens to Nolan and he ends up smiling. There's a moment of silence. "Kissing ass is not going to get you my job. Now go do intern things."

Nolan laughs and stands up. He nods. "Yes, sir. By the way, I emailed you something I've been working on. If I can have some feedback on it, that would be greatly appreciated."

Harry smiles at the boy and agrees to his favor. He leaves and Harry is left with tough writer's block.

»»

Harry had submitted his piece and Beth approved it. To him personally, it wasn't his best work. But at least he submitted something. Next time he'll get it right, he tells himself.

He leaves his office building late in the evening. He checks his phone for the first time since his lunch break and finds a text message from Zavier.

'From Z

Hey, man... Are you free today? Stop by the apartment for a chat. It'll just be us.'

Harry stops walking and he feels someone bump into his shoulder. "Shit, sorry..." The person that bumped into him was already too far to hear him. He steps to the side and sighs. Should he see Zavier? What is there to talk about? Harry can't keep from wondering.

What if seeing Zavier will give him something to write about? This may be something that matters.

Without looking back, Harry finds a taxi and makes his way to his old apartment. The nerves and anxiety fill him with every block he passes through the cab ride.

Suddenly, he arrived. He steps out of the cab after leaving a generous tip and looks up at the building. He still remembers moving in. He remembers meeting Zavier and his friends. He remembers how quickly they adopted him and for the next three years, they were all he knew. But things change. Harry wants to go home to his new flat and his new flatmate. What is he doing?