Risy Behavior


2. Chapter 2

“Ashley,” I yell as I enter my apartment, calling after my roommate and best friend. I giggled softly as I hear a muffled thud and a row of profanity from her room.

“Emma, look what you made me do,” Ashley says, coming out of her room with paint splattered all over her white, tattered shirt and over her old blue jeans. I smile innocently at her before trudging into the kitchen, Ashley following after me.

“It wasn’t my fault,” I say, playfully spraying water at her after washing my hands.

“Hey, how was people watching,” Ashley asks, her tone indicating that I was annoying her.

“Good, though I met a certain someone who was very hard to profile,” I say, pursing my lips as I remembered the Mr. Styles.

“Was he hot,” Ashley asks, her eyebrow arched in interest. I blush, remembering his biceps through his sleeves and his chiseled chest through his white shirt.

“He was,” Ashley gasps, her face turning to one of delight. “Aww, Emma has a crush, Emma has a crush.” I roll my eyes at her, my brow forwarding at her idiocy.

“Shut up,” I reply, eyeing the table in concentration. Ashley squeals happily, clapping her hands together.

“Does this guy have a name,” Ashley asks, her eyes searching mine for clues.

“Harry Styles,” I mutter and watch her face turn from happiness to one phase I have had yet to see before.

“Harry Styles? AS in the Harry Styles from One Direction,” she asks, her voice squeaking out with her eyes wide. I stare at her, amused and nod. Freaked out is an understatement, Ashley jolted from her seat, grabbed me by the hand and hauled me into the room. I looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary until she uncovered the drapery that was hanging on her wall. I gapped at her before I registered my eyes at all the pictures and posters she had, and all of them were One Direction.

“This Harry Styles,” Ashley asks, pointing at the very Harry Styles I met in the café. I nod, gapping at her array of posters, maybe about 15 posters all together.

“How…what…but…” she says but words have seemed to fail her.

“So he wasn’t lying when genesis he was famous,” I ask, trying to lighten the mood. This was beyond weird, I have never met anyone remotely famous and this was just a step higher to insane. I peered at the posters again, seeing Harry and the four other boys, whom I assume are his band mates, go from teenage boys to mighty fine young men.

“So my roommate has met Harry Styles, has talked to him over coffee and will most probably never see him again,” Ashley says, more to herself then me. I nod, agreeing with the last part but her next move startles me. She jumps up onto her feet and begins to…well she begins to dance.

I shook my head at her and went to my room, trying to clear my thoughts, which clearly Ashley was going to be no help as she was to busy fangirling.

I flopped onto the bed and stared at my ceiling, the fan creating a type of distraction from my actual thoughts. Harry was troubled, that much was certain. His mannerism and his behavior was unlike anyone I’d seen before. He was guarded, his feelings coming out after much consideration and his gaze was either cold or hard, or both. Something or more like someone had caused that. And I I’d the only thing I shouldn’t have done, I looked him and his band up on Google.

The first thing that came up was their wikipedia page and their website. I clicked the wikipedia page and skimmed through it. It was mainly about how and what they were doing now and who was their managers and everything. I scrolled down more and found that Simon Cowell had put them together on XFactor. That was a good 8-9 years back, and they had hit their peak of fame in the year 2012, near the end. I remember now who they were, or are. Their songs would play all the time during that summer, but that was so long ago, I was only 14 or 15.

I then ventured on YouTube, and began clucking on random videos of them, their top hit ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ song the very top one. I do remember them now, their voices sounding more familiar. My sister loved them as far as I remember but now I noticed that I did indeed hear them being played from Ashley’s room.

My next stop was to look up the mysterious Harry. I found his wikipedia page from the One Direction one and scanned through it as well. He was from Holmes Chapel, England, he joined  the band at age 16 and has been in several relationships since then. What caught my eye the most though was the fact that he was engaged to a woman almost 8 years older then him and he had a case of liking cougars, the weirdo.

After a good 30 minutes later of listening to their latest album I decided that they weren’t half bad and that I was glad that I had met Harry that day, it gave him a small thrill to have met someone that famous over the span of 9 years. With those thoughts I slowly slipped into a dream filled sleep.


I was back at the café the very next day, at lunch rush hour. Usually there isn’t many people there but today it was packed. I get my coffee, looking around in amazement at the many people, lunch must be good today. Once with my drink and cookie, I shrugged through the people to my normal spot but I found it occupied already. An unmistakable head of curls sat in the same spot as yesterday and I shook my head as I approached the table.

“So, am I to be stalked now,” I say as I sit in the seat opposite of him. He looks up from his phone and for the first time, I am graced with a half smile.

“I don’t know about stalking but I was hoping you’d be here,” he replies, and he winks at me. He freaking winks at me. I blush a scarlet color, knowing full well that when he was younger he was the charmer of the group.

“Why is that,” I asked, arching an eyebrow as I watch him curiously. Why would he want to find me, I’m nothing special.

“I don’t know really, something compelled me to come here again, I guess it was to see your gorgeous face,” he says and winks again. My blush grows deeper and I look at my hands. This guy is either having a serious behavioral change or he is really trying to act different.

“Well, I checked your band out yesterday, turns out my roommate is a mega fan of yours,” I say, trying to change the subject, I was never good with praise.

“Oh? And what did you think of us,” he asks, his eyes gleaming under the light of the café.

I look at him, weighing my options and decided to tell him the truth, it’s not like I have anything to lose.

“I liked your music, it’s a different type of style, not your usual dancing in sync boy band, and you guys aren’t half bad looking either,” I reply, meeting his gaze slowly. He looks relieved once he has absorbed this information.

“Not half bad,” he asks, arching an eyebrow at me. I smirk back a nod my head, eyeing him. “Well, at least you think we are attractive.” I roll my eyes at this but nod, sipping at my drink.

“So tell me, what’s it like to be Harry Styles,” I ask, leaning forward in my seat as I stare at him, my eyebrow arched. His face darkens as does his eyes and I can see a wicked gleam approaching them.

“Well, how about I show you,” he says, standing up, pocketing his phone and then gives me his hand. I stare at his hand before looking up at him curiously. What the hell right? I take his hand and he slips his beanie on and a pair of sunglasses. Guess I’ll be getting firsthand what it’s like huh?

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