Serendipity is for Suckers | h.s. *EDITING*

5 // ❀607 days before❀

Friday finally comes along and the fashion of my outfit choices have already started to decline as the week came to an end.

Living in New York City, there's this social stigma with the way you dress; it's like the nicer and more expensive your clothes are, the more you're respected. Especially when you work in the entertainment industry, you meet tons of upper-class people who are able to tell the difference between a $10 pair of tennis shoes you got on sale at Ross and Filas that would cost me an arm and a leg, all just by sniffing it. Learned that the hard way yesterday.

But being restricted behind a desk and on a chair for most hours of the day with no human interaction majority of the time has led me to carelessness.

And that is the story to why I started this week off wearing heels and a business suit and am now sitting behind my desk wearing a thick NASA sweatshirt, skinny jeans, and a worn out pair of Birkenstocks.

Graham stopped by once this morning to remind me of a big important meeting I'm supposed to sit in on in a couple of hours. Then I returned to my work, attempting to fuel my lackadaisical poor excuse of a body with more than the suggested amount of caffeine via Red Bull.

"If you sat criss-crossed on your swivel chair, had a headset on, and were yelling profanity at your computer screen, I'd mistaken you for a twelve year old boy playing video games," I recognize that deep voice sounding loudly behind me. I turn around to find Harry in another cleavage exposed button up long sleeve but this time it's a dark grey instead of the white that allows his many tattoos to slightly peak through. His jeans are also so tight that I'm pretty sure it's preventing proper blood circulation. And are those heels he's wearing?

"Like what you see?" Harry's famous smug expression returns as he flamboyantly twirls around in his spot.

"The opposite actually," I retort and turn back around to my computer.

"Look, I know I'm a sight for sore eyes but at least wear sunglasses or something to save yourself the embarrassment of your excessive staring and drooling." I roll my eyes and quietly scoff as I continue my work. Which was just purging through Graham's email and unsubscribing him from all of those online shopping subscriptions.

I hear a pair of feet shuffle across the small cubicle and feel him reach beside me, eyeing the contents I placed on my desk. He picks up the small Polaroid photo of me and Lani that I have yet to tape up on the wall to somewhat decorate the bland space.

"Is this your girlfriend?" he asks with pure curiosity and with no judgement in his tone.

"No," I snap, accidentally coming off as a little too snappy and rude. "That's Lani, my best friend from home." I try and soften my tone.

"She's cute," he hums. He stares at the photo for a few long seconds before setting it back down and messing with everything else on my desk. I start to remember the phone call I had with Lani the other night and how fan crazed she got when I mentioned Harry. I laugh quietly to myself as I try to picture Lani's shocked expression when I call her tonight to tell her that Harry thinks she's cute.

"What's so funny?" Harry sets down my stapler, not even caring to put back all of the staples he had obnoxiously removed from it.

I ignore his question. "Your meeting isn't for another two hours, Harry." I keep my face forward and my eyes on the screen as I point over to the schedule taped up on my wall.

"I know," he responds matter-of-factly. "I just wanted to hang out with you." He playfully pushes my shoulder and ruffles my hair.

He wants to hang out with me?

A small pang of a distantly familiar emotion floods warmth and chills through my chest at the same time and when I look up at him with a questioning look, it's like his beautiful facial features have intensified and everything inside of me is fluttering. Calm the fuck down, I tell myself.

I decide to roll my eyes and force a smile at him in response and he spends the next hour propped up on my desk annoyingly showing me funny vine compilations while I try to work. But I'm unable to suppress my laughter and sound disinterested and even when I try to, it just sounds like I'm choking or coughing and it's just embarrassing altogether.

His distracting behavior diminishes that tiny feeling, or whatever it was that I felt earlier, completely, considering I'm trying to get work done and he irritates me. I try to escape him by pretending I have papers to print in the supply room but he ends up following me around like a lost puppy. After thirty minutes of parading around the office floor running tasks for people and with Harry imaginatively leashed to me, I finally make it back to my own desk. He mostly tries to ask me way too personal and intrusive questions the entire time in an effort to "discover who I am."

I felt kind of bad ignoring him and his questions but I just don't open up that easy to people, especially with strangers who I've met on a bad note. He's not even that rich superstar I envisioned, he's just that prying boy with a lunchbox that every school has.

"Harry, don't you have any friends?!" I snap knowing full well that he has an entire roster of people to follow him around and even a whole population of women who glorify him.

"I actually quite like your company." He beams proudly with his chin up and hands cutely placed behind him.

Why would he? All I've been doing was rolling my eyes and throwing sassy remarks his way.

"It's nice to know someone who isn't a leech," he adds.

Uhhh... Thanks?"

He seems to read my confusion. "You're not a leech as in someone who doesn't even care about my social standing, or the fame, or the money enough to hang out with me just because I'm famous."

"Correction. You choose to hang out with me and not the other way around," I joke and he laughs.

Wow. Now I really do feel bad for him. The fact that he wants to hang out with his manager's assistant just to feel somewhat normal and validated. It makes me warm up towards him and now I'm willing to forget the rude version of Harry I first met a few days ago and befriend the cheeky, playful one now.

"I'm sorry," I unintentionally blurt out. "For being sassy and dismissive." I blend that sentence together in a rush as if apologizing isn't a tool in my toolkit and he just laughs.

"We should go. We're already ten minutes late." He pushes himself off the desk and stands on his feet.

"What?!" I yell, looking at the time on my phone. Sure enough. it's ten minutes past twelve and my heart begins to race as I start to panic. I grab my work binder from my cabinet drawer and push Harry out of my cubicle in an attempt to get him to run with me to the conference room.

Graham is so going to kill me.

Harry's movements slow down as if to taunt me. "Whoa whoa whoa, slow down woman." He chuckles. "I like to be fashionably late." He holds a hand up to his chest. I scoff and pull him harder by the arm as we run to the conference room.

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A/N: LOL i just made fun of how cliche my writing is. BUT DON'T WORRY! i have some shit planned hehehe

mark my words