Falling | h.s

four

HARRY'S POV

I stare at the six words scribbled at the top of my page: do you know who you are? I write over the letters over and over again. The short answer? No. I do not know who I am, not anymore. And maybe that's the problem. 

I find that my newfound focus is quickly broken by the chatter of the girls at the bar. Why are they so excited? I look towards the noise to see one of the girls, the one who was previously crying, shoot back a shot before walking towards the stage; she looked like she was walking to her execution. She climbs up the stage and takes a seat at the keyboard, looking nervously out into the crowd. Piquing my curiosity, I tear my attention away from my notebook and to the terrified girl. 

"Hi everyone," she starts, voice trembling. "My name is Janie and tonight, by my friends' request, I will be singing a song I wrote." Her fingers shake as they lower to the keyboard. She closes her eyes and begins to play. 

What do you mean? 

I'm sorry, by the way. 

Never coming back down...

From the first note, I'm hooked. She's clearly nervous, but that can't take away from the natural beauty of her voice. It's powerful and raw, something hard to find these days. I find myself sitting on the edge of my seat, hypnotized by her words. 

Step into the light

So bright sometimes

I'm not ever going back

Her lyrics are simple and yet still cut to my core. She's saying exactly how I'm feeling. Her lyrics are real. I can tell they're coming from a place of confusion, of self-exploration. With every word, her voice gets stronger, her piano playing becomes more confident. I watch in awe as she belts out the words, eyes closed, fully absorbed in her words. She's beautiful. She's magical. How the hell is a talent like this singing in a random bar off of the highway? She needs to be heard, needs to share her words. 

As she finishes out the song with a series of vocals and ends with a powerful chord, everyone in the small bar claps. I join them, clapping loudly in awe. Her friends are going crazy at the bar, whooping and hollering for her. Even the surly bartender has a smile on his face as she grins out at the bar. 

"Uh, I hope you all enjoyed! Thank you for letting me play," she smiles again before quickly exiting the stage in relief. Her friends envelop her in hugs. As I watch their celebration, I wonder if I should approach her. I don't want to interrupt her, but I can't help but feel a connection to her. I need to know her story. 

So, I swallow my pride (and the last sip of my beer,) and walk up to the bar. The four girls are still reeling about their friend's performance as the blonde one orders yet another round of shots. I twist my H ring on my finger in uneasy expectation as I approach them. 

"Hi," I say gently. I don't like to assume that people will know who I am, but I always prepare for the worst.  The girls turn from each other to me and their demeanors immediately shift as they look at me with a sort of horrified awe. 

"Are you..." The brunette starts, "I mean, are you, uh" She stammers. 

"Harry Styles?!" The redhead interrupts in shock. I laugh sheepishly and look down, running my hand through my hair. The blonde has her jaw dropped and the singer's eyes are wide and doe-like.