Anxious [H.S]

Chapter 4: The Call

I am currently staring up at my ceiling. Up late again, thinking, worrying. It's one o'clock in the morning and I should be sleeping. I feel my phone begin to buzz from underneath me.

"Hello," I say. I don't know who this is. Probably just a telemarketer.

"Leah, it's Harry," that same British voice from a couple of days ago says.

I sit right up from my laying down position. I am not going to lie, I am shocked. I never thought I was going to hear from this man again. Maybe he isn't like other celebrities. What am I talking about? I don't even know him. He is probably just using me for something. Oh yeah sure Leah, for what? To deal with your anxiety, your minimum wage you make at the coffee shop.

"Leah, are you there?" Harry asks. I almost forgot I was on the phone with him.

"Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking," I say.

"About?" he digs.

"You, I honestly never thought I would hear from you again," I explain.

"I had to talk to you again, I couldn't stop thinking about you," he says, making me blush. Why am I blushing?

"Oh about what? My amazing mental breakdown in front of you or was it the fact that I didn't give you my number," I joke, laughing.

"All of it, you are so different compared to anyone I've ever met, it's refreshing," he states.

"You probably say that about everyone," I say.

"No, Leah I don't. You're so different, in a good way," he states.

"Oh, really? How so?" I question.

"The fact that you were so honest with me, without being mean. And you weren't trying to impress me or please me in any way, which everyone tries to do. And you didn't try to throw yourself at me, like every single girl that crosses my path does. You made me feel like a real, normal person for the first time in a long time," he confesses.

"If we are being honest, I couldn't stop thinking about you either. I don't know what it is. When I was on that couch in that room I just kept telling myself that you weren't really that nice, that you were putting on an act. I feel like the more I thought about it, the more I thought it wasn't some act. It has been such an internal conflict on what I thought about you. You were honestly the first person in a while to ask me if I'm okay. And I know that was because I passed out but it felt nice to be asked, even by a complete stranger that knows nothing about me," I tell him.

"Leah, I want to see you in person. So we can get to know each other better. I have a two day break between my show in Denver and my show in Vancouver. So I was thinking I could maybe fly to New York after my Denver show or I could pay for a ticket for you to fly to me. Only if you want though, that's just what I was thinking," he says, nervously.

I am hesitant on what to say. Half of me is saying yes and have him come here and the other half of me is saying no and that this is not a good idea. The part of me that is saying no is the part of me that doesn't want to get hurt. Because I don't want to get invested into this, into him, and have my heart broken. And I don't know his intentions on whether he wants to be just friends, or to be more.

"Harry, if you don't mind me asking, what are your intentions with me? Like what do you want from me?" I ask, boldly.

"I'm genuinely not sure yet, that's why I want to see you again so I can find out, so we can find out," he states.

"You know what? Come here, to New York," I say, not believing I just said yes.

"Okay, that's great! Well, I'll let you go, get some sleep. It's late you know. I'll see you soon I guess, goodnight Leah," he says, laughing.

"Yeah, alright. You get some sleep too, goodnight Harry," I say, as I hang up the phone.

I plop back onto my bed and save his number into my phone. I can't believe that just happened. How did he even find my number? Probably one of the thousands of connections he has. I just really can't believe that I just put Harry Styles' number into my phone, not because he is famous but because he actually liked me enough to talk to me again. I haven't been in a relationship since my senior year of high school. We broke up because he thought I was keeping secrets, which in reality I just didn't know how to talk to anyone. I even struggle talking to Kenna. Not that anyone has ever tried to talk to me and if they do I usually turn them down out of fear, like I did to Harry only a few nights ago.

Speaking of Kenna, I finally got a hold of her the day after the concert. She said her and Olive left because they thought I had been taken to a hospital. It was so nice that they decided to leave without even bothering to ask where I was taken. Real good friends I've got right? I can not tell Kenna or Olive about Harry coming. Kenna will freak out and will be stalking us the whole time she's here. I don't want either of them to have anything to do with this, I don't need them yapping in my ear about what I should do. As anxious as I am about this, I need to do this by myself, he needs to get to know me for me. Not the me that's being told what to do by her friends.

It's already two in the morning and I have to get up at six for work. Lovely. I open my night stand, get my ear buds out, and plug them into my phone. I decide to play Harry's album because during all of this I've noticed that I haven't actually listened to the whole thing.

"Tell me something, tell me something. You don't know nothing, just pretend you do. I need something, tell me something new. Choose your words 'cause there's no antidote for this curse. Oh, what's it waiting for? Must this hurt you just before you go?"

Once again, I'm crying to Harry Styles. He certainly has a way with words, he's a genius. I hope he doesn't make me cry this much when he comes here. I think the line that hit me the hardest was; "Choose your words 'cause there's no antidote for this curse. Oh, what's it waiting for?". These words made me sob. I know he didn't mean it the same way I interpret it. The way I interpret it is very personal, something only I could understand. I take it as there is no fixing what's inside my brain, the anxiety, the worry, the self doubt. There is no taking it away.

Before I know it the song is over and I skip Sign of the Times, no more crying. Carolina comes on, thankfully it's up beat.

"I met her once and wrote a song about her. I wanna scream, yeah. I wanna shout it out. And I hope she hears me now."

Wow, Townes is a lucky girl, she got a song this good after only meeting him once. I wonder if he writes a song for all the girls he's been with, I wonder if he has written a song about me. Probably not, I'm not that special. Even though he says I am, I still don't get it. I am just a girl who works at a random coffee shop in New York that happens to have anxiety and is very shy. I am still trying to figure out how I even talked to Harry in the first place. I mean I was nervous but he made me feel comfortable. I am nervous about him coming here. I hope I didn't make a mistake. Well there is only one way to find out.