"Harry?" I mumble out in shock, even though I know exactly who is here standing in front me. He's holding a drink carrier with two large paper coffee cups, but I have no idea what expression might be on his face because of his disguised features. I look over his shoulder, expecting to find what, I'm not sure.
"Good morning Kathryn, may I come in?" His voice sounds a bit strangled, as if he's nervous, so I nod and open the door wide. He steps through immediately and heads straight for the table by the window, setting the coffee down.
"Harry?" I repeat, apparently having no other vocabulary and hoping that he will understand that to mean, "what are you doing here?" I stay near the door after I've closed it and watch as he pushes his hood down and removes his mask and sunglasses. Standing by the window, the sunlight bathing him in a warm glow, nearly takes my breath away. The dream... "What are you doing here?" I finally manage to stammer out.
"I brought you coffee and I'm taking you to the 9/11 Memorial", he states pointedly, removing one of the cups and holding it out to me.
"Excuse me?" I ask, thoroughly confused and still a bit frazzled from that dream.
"Which part didn't you understand?" He asks with a sly grin. His pink lips turned up into a smile in my direction calms my nerves a bit, so I finally move away from the door to stand near him and accept the coffee he's still holding out. I sip at the warm liquid and watch him as he watches me. Feeling a little more relaxed as the sweetened caffeine coats my throat, I take a seat on the edge of the bed.
"Umm, all of it? Why are you bringing me coffee and why would we go to the memorial together? I told you I wasn't sure I wanted to go... What even time is it?"
"It's a little after 10 am. You said you didn't want to go alone, and that's why I'm here", he says, taking a seat at the table and sipping at his own coffee.
"Oh, that's not exactly what I meant but I appreciate the gesture. I don't know Harry, I'm really not feeling up to it. I had a rough day yesterday..." I trail off, looking out the window. I turn my head back to him to see that his eyebrows have creased together has he studies me. He sets his coffee down and leans forward, elbows on his kneed, hands clasped under his chin.
"What do you mean by rough? You didn't rest?" His eyes search mine and I feel self conscious under his scrutiny, especially in my bed-shaped state. His eyes then drop to my rumpled clothing. "Did you sleep in your clothes?" He asks, echoing my earlier question to myself.
"Umm, I think so."
"You think so? What did you do yesterday?" I feel like I should find his questions invasive, but all I'm getting is a protective vibe and I don't hate it.
"Not much, I did rest, a lot...but then I went to the park and...it didn't end well." His eyes take on a different look, one I've yet to see, and I wonder just how many looks this man has.
"What do you mean Kate? What happened?" He asks through slightly gritted teeth. The second time he's called me Kate.
"No no, nothing bad. Just a lot of memories. Memories I wasn't expecting to hit me so hard."
"Oh", he says sitting back a bit and looking more calm, although still concerned. "Memories of your mum?" I simply nod my head at him. "Why didn't you call me?" Call...him?
"I...didn't know that was an option?" I say blankly. He looks at me again as if I've got three heads.
"Kathryn", he says, taking my free hand in his ringed one, "whilst we're on tour together, we're a team, a family, all of us. If you're struggling for any reason you need to know you can reach out for help. Like you helped me...", he adds and my heart splits.
"Ok", I whisper, only because I no longer have a voice. "I'll work on that", I add, a little more solidly. My eyes drop to the floor, unable to look at him. He squeezes my hand before placing his other hand under my chin to tilt it up so that I find his eyes again.
"Hey, cheer up buttercup. It'll be ok", he adds, repeating my own words back to me as he finally lets me go and gives me a soft smile.
"Ok", I agree, granting him a tiny smile in return.
"Good, now do you, um...need to get ready?" He asks, eyeing my attire dubiously again.
"I still don't know if I'm ready to go there Harry", I reply cautiously. After what happened yesterday at what's supposed to be a happy place, I really don't know how I'll handle a solemn one, and one that holds even more memories.
"Nope, not taking no for an answer. Not after I risked pap pics getting you coffee", he says with a smile, but I don't find the humor.
"I didn't ask you to do this Harry. And besides, what happened to you wanting me to have a choice?" I add with a trace of humor.
"I still stand by that...except when you're making the wrong one", he adds, cocking his head to the side and giving me a sideways smile.
"Harry..."
"Come on, in all seriousness, I think you need to do this for closure...for your mum."
"Man, you really know all the right things to say huh?" I tell him, thinking that this is definitely not fair of him to come to my hotel room and persuade me to go with him. Not when I have such a difficult time telling him no.
He apparently can see that I'm still not convinced so he adds, "Tell you what, let's just take a walk and see what we see?" I watch him closely as his eyes dart between mine, his lips parted, his jaw flexing. God why is he so pretty?
"Ok, just a walk for now", I reluctantly agree, well maybe not that reluctantly. His features relax into a winning smile and I get up before I agree to anything else. "I need to shower first."
"No problem, I'm not in any rush", he says as he rises from the table with his coffee in hand. I don't pay much attention to him as I walk over to the bathroom door, but before I slip into the en-suite, I turn around again to find him stretching himself across my bed, grabbing the remote from the beside table and pointing it at the tv. I just watch him for a stolen second as his arm goes behind his head against the headboard and his fingers press the buttons on the remote. His eyes flick to me when he senses me watching him and I feel a flush creep over my cheeks. "What?" He asks innocently, as if he has no idea what feelings his simple movements create.
"Nothing", I say, shaking my head at him and disappearing into the bathroom.
After my shower, I feel much more like a human and less like a troll who slept under a bridge. I brush my teeth and comb out my hair, then realize I forgot to bring a change of clothes in here. Shit, I guess I'm not used to having a hotel-mate where normally I would just walk into the room in my towel to get my clothes. I open the bathroom door a crack, feeling the rush of the cool AC air hitting my damp skin and hearing the slight hum of the tv.
"Harry?" I murmur.
"Yes?" He calls back. I can barely see him still perched on my bed from the crack of the door.
"I forgot to get my clothes...can you like, cover your eyes or something?" I hear him chuckle under his breath before he responds.
"You have a towel on right?"
"Yes..."
"So what's the problem?" Does he really expect me to come prancing out there in a towel?
"Umm yeah...can you just cover your eyes please?"
"Sure thing love", he says with another chuckle which annoys me. I push the door open a little wider to peer around it, checking to see if he in fact is covering his eyes. He hasn't moved from his spot on the bed, but now both hands are near his face, his first four fingers pressed against his eyelids. Once I'm secured in the fact that he can't see, I tiptoe quickly into the room and go immediately to the dresser under the tv which holds my clothes. Not even paying attention to what I'm grabbing, I quickly select some underwear, a pair of jean shorts and a pink tank top. Once I've reached the safety of the bathroom door again, I peek over at him to see if he still has his eyes covered, which he does. As if sensing me looking at him he asks, "You good?"
"Yep", I squeak before quickly hiding back behind the door again.
Once I've changed and dried my hair a bit, I pull it back into a ponytail, apply a tiny bit of make-up, then re-appear into the room. "Ok, ready!" I announce, feeling much more like myself and almost forgetting about my near panicked state yesterday. Of course, maybe it has something to do with the man currently laid out on my bed. He stretches his arms above his head, then pulls his long legs over the side of the bed to get up. He pulls at the hoodie which has bunched up a little, and straightens it down over the waistband of his shorts. I survey the soft, peach colored fabric of the hoodie and feel my face frown. "Aren't you going to to be hot in that? It's like 90 outside.
"Nah, I'll be fine", he states, then downs the rest of his coffee. I grab mine to take with me, and then slip into my shoes that are still near the bed where I discarded them yesterday. I walk to the door and look behind me to see that Harry is still standing near the bed adjusting himself. He pulls the hood back up over his head, places the sunglasses over his eyes, then pulls the mask back up and over his mouth and nose. Eyeing him strangely at this over-the-top get up he's got going on, it suddenly occurs to me that it's probably because he's going out in public and doesn't want to be seen, at least by the paparazzi.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask, feeling bad that I'm exposing him to the public eye by doing this with me. His hands freeze on his mask and he looks over at me, at least I think he's looking at me, it's hard to tell.
"Of course, why wouldn't I?" He asks, sounding completely thrown off guard by my question.
"I dunno, just seems like a lot of work just for you to walk down the street." He drops his hand and walks over to me.
"Nothing I can't handle", he assures me, then opens the door, waiting for me to step through.
"Of that I have no doubt", I mumble under my breath, then step through and wait for him on the other side.
Not having an actual idea where we're going, I follow Harry blindly as we step out of the hotel and take a sharp left, away from the direction of the park. The end of the street is only a block away where I assume we will either turn left or keep going straight. Right before we get there however, we pass a small bakery and the smell of baking bread comes wafting out making my mouth water.
As if reading my mind, Harry suddenly stops and turns to me. "Did you eat today?"
"No, actually."
"Why not?" He stares down at me, and even through the mask and sunglasses I can tell that he's annoyed with me again.
"Well, I was asleep, then you woke me up, then you forced me to take a walk and now here I am", I say sarcastically, putting my hands on my hips and staring back up into his large black sunglasses. I can just barely make out his green eyes behind them standing this close.
"Ha ha, very funny. Come on then", he says, gently guiding me into the bakery by my elbow. Once we've reached the glass case that is practically bare due to the late hour, I select a yummy looking cinnamon roll when prompted by the woman behind the counter. I watch as her eyes quickly flick to Harry and then back to me as she takes out my pastry. I reach into my fanny pack for some cash but before I can even reach it, Harry has already placed a $20 down on the counter.
"Thank you", I mutter, as he grabs two water bottles and shows them to the woman as well. He doesn't accept any change, and we step back out onto the sidewalk before I can even process what happened. We start walking again and I pick at my roll while Harry pulls his mask down to take sips of his water, before quickly rearranging it back over his face. It's such a shame he has to cover himself up like that.
We walk in silence together for a few minutes as I finish off my breakfast and throw the remnants into a trash can we pass as we turn the corner onto 6th Avenue, and something suddenly occurs to me.
"Wait, how far away is this thing? Are we walking all the way there?"
"I have no idea actually", he giggles as he pulls out his phone and maps it out. "Oh, shit, it's like over an hour walk", he says laughing out loud.
"Harry!" I am not walking that far. You may be in peak physical condition but I am not." He turns and looks behind me, I guess at my legs??
"You look fine to me. You do yoga right?"
"Yes but, that is too far to walk there and back and you know it", I argue.
"Ok, you're probably right. But we're just walking for now right? If we decide to go there we'll just hop in a cab." I guess he's right, this is New York City after all.
"Ok", I agree, now wondering more than ever where this little field trip is going to lead. We keep a leisurely pace past several little eateries and shops and I peer into the windows of each one, wondering what treasures they might hold. I don't ask to go inside any for fear that Harry might feel uncomfortable stopping inside a small public space. Out of the corner of my eye I can see that his head darts around in each direction every few feet or so, probably looking for cameras. I wonder why it bothers him so much, isn't that kind of the life of being a celebrity? But everyone has their issues and this could easily be one of his. We pass many noticeable landmarks that I hadn't even realized were on this street, places such as the Museum of Modern Art, Rockefeller Plaza and Radio City Music Hall. Harry stops with me each time and smiles over at me as I snap a few pictures with my phone. He even tells me a few interesting tidbits that I hadn't known and surprises me that he knows, not being from here after all. Eventually we come across an old bookstore that Harry stops in front of, then looks over at me.
"Wanna go in?" He asks, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the store.
"Sure", I agree, shrugging my shoulders and following him inside. The smell of old books immediately invades my nostrils as we step inside, and it fills me with a nostalgic feeling of library trips with my mom when I was a kid. I don't think I've ever thought so much about my mom in such a short amount of time since she passed as I have since I got here. I'm not sure if this is a good or bad thing. I follow Harry blindly around the little store then quickly realize that I don't have to stay by his side like a child keeping up with their mother. So, I wander a few feet away from him toward the travel books, and peruse the surprisingly many selections this little store has to offer. I've just pulled a large book on Italy off the shelf and am carefully leafing through the pages when Harry finds me, holding a small yellow book in his hands. He's pulled his mask down under his chin and he's grinning stupidly at me.
"Look at this", he says excitedly, handing the book over to me. I look at the front cover, it has a creepy looking man in the upper left corner and the title is spelled out in black and blue writing across the center right. The title reads, "You Get So Alone at Times That it Just Makes Sense", by Charles Bukowski. I look up at him to find him beaming, then flip the book around to look at the back cover. The back is in the same faded yellow color with just one word, ALONE, spelled out across the space with the individual letters all by themselves, scattered over the area of the cover. I look up at him again and can't help but smile as I see his obvious enjoyment at finding this particular book. "It's a collection of poems by one of my favorite authors. Do you get it?" He asks, his eyes glimmering. I furrow my brows and look back down at it, realization passing over me just as he offers the explanation. "Alone, like the song."
"Ahh", I agree in understanding, wishing we could not discuss the topic of that song.
"Wouldn't the title make a great line in the song?" He continues. I think this over for a second.
"It would actually, but isn't that plagiarism?"
"Hmm, I don't think so. Not if we credit him, but I'll ask David to look into it. Anyway, I'm definitely buying this." He gently takes the book from my hands but I snatch it back out.
"No you're not", I say, skipping away toward the counter before he can stop me. I place the book down onto the old wooden counter top and ask the hundred year old man behind it how much. He picks it up in slow motion, turning it over in his hands two or three times before mumbling, "Fifteen dollars." I'm pretty sure he just made that up on the spot, but I fumble through my fanny pack for a $20 and slide it across to him. Harry has already appeared by my side, but he doesn't try to stop me like I thought he would. He just watches the interaction between me and the man, and then accepts the bag with the book inside that I hand to him.
"Thank you Kathryn", he says as we step outside. "You didn't have to do that", he adds as he pushes his mask back onto his face and I pout internally.
"I know, but I wanted to", I say, smiling up at his dark glasses. I can just barely make out his eyes crinkling, indicating a smile, and we step forward together in unison to continue on our way. A few minutes later we come across a large green space and a sign out front tells me it's Bryant Park. "Do you want to go in here?" I ask Harry as I stop in front of the sign.
"Sure if you want", he agrees. We walk toward the massive green lawn set inside a cement surround, with little chairs and tables with umbrellas set up all along the perimeter. There's a huge fountain off to the left and what looks like a little putting green to the right. There are several people scattered around the lawn and sitting at the tables, but not an overwhelming amount. It's Wednesday mid-morning so I assume most people are at work. The massive trees overhang the little square and we wade together through the people scattered about, sunbathing or sleeping or reading, or just sitting and chatting with friends. It's a peaceful scene, the weather is nice and the smell of freshly cut grass hangs heavy in the air, the light plinking sounds of the water from the fountain in the distance. A little further down, on the opposite end, farthest away from the street, sit several iron benches, set against the backdrop of hundreds of white tulips. This is where Harry and I decide to take a seat, which also happens to be farthest away from the majority of the people.
"This is nice", he says, looking out over the grounds.
"It is, have you ever been here before?"
"Never", he answers, and I feel a slight swell of pride at experiencing something with him that he's never experienced before. I look over at him in his ridiculous camouflage, wanting nothing more than to see him in this quiet, serene moment.
"Harry, can I see your face please?" I ask, scanning what little I can see of his face. He looks in my direction for a moment, then turns his head from side to side looking around him as if making sure there aren't any cameras pointing at him. Looking back at me, he tentatively pulls his hood down, then removes his mask, and finally pulls his sunglasses from his face. Being out here in the bright sunshine, his eyes look almost golden with flecks of green immersed throughout, his pupils just pinpoints in the bright sunlight. My eyes peruse his face, taking in the beauty that I've been denied up until now. I look up into his hair and notice the clip that holds back the silky brown strands. I hadn't noticed it before now for some reason. "Why do you wear that?" I ask, pointing at the little plastic piece perched on top of his head. He cocks one eyebrow at me before responding.
"Why do you wear that?" He asks, indicating the rubber band holding my ponytail back.
"To keep my hair out of my face", I answer as if this is obvious.
"Exactly", he replies stoically.
"Why not wear a hat?"
"Because I don't want to wear a hat", he fires back playfully.
"You could just fix it so it doesn't fall in your face", I suggest, not really sure why I'm pushing the issue. I think he actually looks kinda cute wearing his little clip. I guess I'm just in a teasing mood after the heavy last few hours.
"Like how?" He asks as if this man doesn't know how to fix his own hair. My eyes wander up to his brunette locks that also take on a golden hue out here in the sun. Timidly, I reach up and pull the clip from his hair, then watch as his curls fall into his eyes. "Right. Now I can't see", he murmurs. I clamp the little hair clip onto the strap of my tank so that it doesn't get lost, then reach up toward his hair again. Concentrating on my movements, I brush his hair away from his face with both hands, then thread my fingers through it to finger comb it over to the left, his right. I tuck the strands the way I want them, so that they curl ever so slightly up and over his crown, but leave them free from his face. His hair is soft and smooth, free of product, like silk on my fingertips. I look down to see his eyes closed, his lashes fanning across his cheekbones, then I bring my hands down quickly.
"There, like that", I say, sounding proud of myself, watching as he opens his eyes and looks toward the top of his head.
"Ok, that's fine. Until I do this." He then whips his head to the side quickly and then back to me, and I frown as I watch my handy work all fall back into place over his eyes.
"Harry! Then don't do that!" I exclaim in mock admonishment.
"I can't help it if I have to move my head", he protests. I sigh annoyingly at him and he blows the hair slightly out of his face with a small puff of air from his lips. Then he smirks at me and his eyes lower to the clip still clinging to my top. "Can I have my clip back now?" I go to reach for it but before I can, his fingers are already there, brushing my collarbone as he unclips and removes it from my clothing. I let out a slightly shaky breath at the brief contact, then watch as he expertly twists his hair into a little bun, then puts the clip back in place.
"Ok, you win", I say in defeat.
"Ahh finally", he says with a cocky grin, and I just stare at this effervescent human in stunned disbelief.