The Characters:
Vera Greco
23. Italian. Daughter of Marsha Greco, owner of the biggest gentleman's club in Los Angeles. Also the most private and exclusive. If you don't know, then you don't even know it exists.
Harry Styles
24. British. World famou...
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I showed up to Harry's the next morning, I knew he wouldn't be home; keying in the access code he gave me for the spare key. I unlocked the door, pushing the heavy weight of it out of the way and walking inside. I rolled in my big suitcase behind me, Harry wanting to make sure I had enough here to feel settled. I bit my lip looking around, unsure of where exactly I was supposed to begin said settling.
"Miss Vera?" I heard a voice say, and when I turned around a slightly older man stood at the stairs.
"Yes, that's me." I smiled.
"Hello, miss, I'm James. I'm Mr. Styles head of house when he's away. He asked me to help you get settled. Can I show you to your bedroom for the month?"
I bit my lip and nodded, "Yes please." I walked over to him and he took my suitcase from me as we made our way upstairs. We walked down the hall to the second door on the left. When we walked in I smiled big at the room. The walls were yellow, with beige and tan accents everywhere. Small pops of green reflecting the downstairs area.
I smiled when I noticed a record player similar to mine at home sat on the bedside table, an empty cabinet underneath. When I got closer, I noticed a post it on the player.
Bring as many records as you want, x Harry.
I made a mental note to bring some the next time I went home.
"How does the room feel, Miss Vera?" James said, smiling.
"Wonderful, thank you. Um, do you know when Harry will be home?"
"Yes, later tonight, his flight was a bit delayed. I'm here to help you with whatever you may need until then. Have you eaten?" He said placing my suitcase on the bed for me, and I shook my head.
"No, but I can wait for Harry. Just going to unpack for now." I smiled and he nodded.
"I'll still bring you a small snack, he might be a while."
"Okay, thank you." I smiled as he walked away. I took a deep breath, running my fingers through my hair before unzipping my bag and starting to unpack.
—
I sat in the living room, my legs up and over the back of the couch, I played one of Harry's Beatles records as I wrote in my journal. I hummed along quietly when I heard Harry's voice echo through the house.
"I'd recognize those beat up black converse anywhere I think." He said, and I sat up so I could see him, smiling.
"They are pretty much a trademark at this point." I smiled, waving them around before bringing my legs back down on the ground.
