kalopsia [harry styles]

3

FALLON COLLINS

It's the next day in the morning, and I'm making myself breakfast when I call Nadia to tell her about my encounter with Harry the night before.

Here's the thing with Nadia. She's a force to be reckoned with. Standing at 5'11, she towers over my 5'6, and she's everything I would ever dream of being.

She's tall, with model-like features. Her skin is golden brown, her hair almost black. Her family is from Lebanon, but they moved here to New York when she was ten, which had made her grow thick skin. It wasn't easy being Middle Eastern in America, and I admired her for standing strong and being able to take all the stereotypes that she was branded just by being Muslim. If I was her, I would have broken down crying already. I was someone who took everything to heart, but Nadia didn't.

We met when she was thirteen and I was twelve. I had gone for a walk with my sister in central park, and Nadia's dog had ran away. We had been the ones to catch it. From there, Nadia and I had stuck together through thick and thin.

She had been one of the first people to really tell me that I needed to move forward with my life. While everyone had been tiptoeing around me, she was straight up, and she had never pitied me. For that, I was thankful.

I put my phone on my ear, listening as it rings. I balance it on my shoulder, waiting for Nadia to pick up as I grabbed my tea kettle and put it on the stove to warm the water.

"Fall!" Nadia's bright voice comes over the other side of the phone. "How's the prettiest bitch in New York doing?" she asks brightly, and I can't help but roll my eyes.

Then I chuckle, shaking my head as I grab a pan to make myself breakfast.

"Stop it, Nadia" I laugh out. "And I'm doing fine" Nadia always found a way to improve my mood.

She laughs loudly, and I can't help but smile. Nadia's laugh had always been contagious. I loved that.

"That's good, that's good. what's up?" She asks, clearly intrigued as to why I called her.

I sigh, thinking of how to begin.

"Nadia, you're not gonna to believe this..." I go on, explaining everything; from meeting Harry at therapy, to him hearing me calling him a douche, to me shutting the door on him.

When I'm done, she stays quiet, processing everything I said.

"Wait... Harry what?" She asks, asking for his last name.

I roll my eyes playfully at her cluelessness.

"Styles, Nadia. Harry Styles. He has a band, what was it's name..." I trail off, pursing my lips, trying to remember.

Then she gasps loudly, practically shouting out a curse.

"No fucking way! No fucking way! Fallon, do you know who that is?" She exclaims, making me wince at the volume of her voice.

I shrug, even though she can't see me, and I put my now boiling water into a teacup.

"I mean... should I?" I ask quietly, grabbing a tea bag from my pantry.

"Yes! You should!" She yells out. "His band is called Saudade! Haven't you heard of it before?" She asks. I know she's about to scold me, because the truth is I haven't.

I liked music, but only the calm type. Still Woozy, UMI, Her, those were the artists I listen to, and apparently, Harry's band didn't really write that sort of music.

"Would you kill me if I say no?" I wince out, hissing between my teeth and closing my eyes shut in preparation for her scolding.

"Fallon!"