Eleanora [Harry Styles AU]

Prologue

               “£17.50” Said the rather dull shopkeeper in a monotone. As he spoke, the same price flashed up on the 70’s looking cash register in thin, green, digital letters. The 70’s theme seemed to be consistent throughout the fish and chip shop. The counters were a repulsing yellow and the chairs were coated in brown leather. At least two of them had holes poked into them where a mass of cream coloured foam erupted through. The place looked quite dodgy to me, but Will insisted to purchase out lunch from here.

                “Right,” Will retrieved his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a ridiculous amount of variously shaped coins into his hand. He began to count the money aloud “7.20, 7.70, 8, 8.10,” I tuned Will out and stared down at my feet. The sudden action caused a few of my brown curls to flop forward, covering a portion of my vision. “14.60, 14.80, 15,” I looked up and noticed the shopkeeper eyeing me. His beard was unshaven and his apron obtained a greasy stain in the top left corner. To be honest, I just wanted to get out of this place.

                “17, 17.20, 17.40, 17.50.” Will placed the large handful of coins onto the counter and the shopkeeper immediately began recounting them in his head. Will collected the greasy white cardboard box from off the counter and stared at its content hungrily. Flaky strips of golden fish accompanied by salty hot chips.

                “You are one pound short.” Said the shopkeeper. His accent sounded Eastern European, possibly Russian.

                “You’re joking! I just counted those coins right in front of you, didn’t you see me!” Will’s voice was raging in pitch, a usual occurrence when he’s pissed off and trying to explain something “Out loud. £17.50.”

                “This,” the man with the accent gestured to the pile of coins in front of him “is £16.50.”

                “No, look, I gave you £17.50, alright?”

                “Will,” I spoke up “Just give the guy a pound, alright?”

                “No, I’m not letting this go Harry. That’s robbery, that is. I’m not taking it.” Will complained

                I sighed “Here.” I said as I reached into my pocket, pulled out a round gold coin and placed it on the 70’s style counter

                “You’re letting him get away with it?” Will questioned as I took the fish and chips from his hands and advanced towards the door. “You could’ve bought a Pepsi or something with that. The man’s a thief!”

                “It’s just one pound.”  I remind him as I swing open the door and step out into the cool breeze outside “And considering your maths skills, he probably wasn’t making it all up.” My comment caused Will to punch me in the shoulder. Not aggressively, but not softly either “Hey, you nearly made me drop our lunch!”

                “Yeah yeah, now let’s find the others.”

                I stuck my hand into the fish and chip box and dug out a small, crunchy looking chip before popping it into my mouth. The taste of salt filling my mouth as I chew on the soft textured potato. Will and I begin to walk down the footpath, the rest of Brighton clear in our view. White Eskimo, Will and I’s band, were currently half way through our promotional tour across Britain. Everything has passed so quickly ever since a talent scout discovered us 6 months ago. We were taken straight to the studio, where we recorded our EP. Most of it consisted of covers, but Alex wrote a few original songs, since he’s the best poet out of the four of us.

                I reach for another chip, and place it in my mouth, just like the first.

                “Hey,” said Will “correct me if I’m wrong, but is that Blondie at 5 O’clock?”

                Blondie was this little nickname we had for this particular girl. Strangely, she had showed up at every single one of our gigs so far. And not only that, but she somehow has managed to be seated in the exact same area of each show. Front row, third from the left. Now, obviously White Eskimo aren’t the equivalent of Beyoncé, our tickets don’t sell for £200, but after three or four shows, your wallet would start to hurt. She looked 16, our age, and being able to afford all those tickets had always been a mystery to us.

                “I think it is.” There was no denying it. It was her exact shade of blond hair, her signature gold bracelet was visible on her wrist, and I could’ve sworn I saw her wear that same blue sundress at the Birmingham concert.

                “Looks like we’ll be seeing her tonight then.” Chuckled Will

                “We sure will.” 

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A/N: Yay! So this story has officially started I guess, but updates may be slow because I haven't exactly finished planning for this story.

Anyway, what did you think? Did you like it? What do you think is going to happen tonight at the gig?

Comment, Fan, and most importantly, VOTE! xx

-Lauren