It was already dark outside as I started my walk home. When I arrived there I could make out a figure sitting on my stoop. Of course it was Riley waiting there for me already.

“Here you are Marcel! I’ve been here for ages!”

I laughed, “Sorry, I lost track of time at work.”

She laughed too, “You and those sweet ladies.”

I nodded my head before walking up to the front door, sliding in the key. I opened the door, and let her enter first. “We should probably just get a key for you. That way you don’t have to wait in the cold all the time.”

She smiled a beautiful white smile. “That’s a brilliant idea! Why haven’t we thought of that sooner?”

“I don’t know. I am quite brilliant, so you would think I would have by now.” We both laughed as we walked into the house and headed down to the basement where we kept all of our equipment.

We started playing random songs that we knew. Riley played various instruments while I always sang. I loved to lose myself in the music. I closed my eyes and I saw myself on a stage in front of thousands of people. In my mind I was such an entertainer, always grabbing the audience’s attention with every motion I made. They were all screaming my name. I poured my heart out in every song at the top of my lungs, releasing all my anger and stress of dealing with the people at school.

I finished a last note and Riley was sitting there staring at me. I hadn’t even realized she stopped playing. “What’s wrong?” I asked concerned.

She shook her head with a smile, “No, nothing…. You are just so amazing.”

My cheeks flushed a bit and I pushed my glasses up higher. “No, I don’t think so.”

Her face grew stern, “I’m serious Marcel. You need to try out for like X-Factor or something.”

“No, I could never do anything like that. I’m not that good.” I stated.

She stood up in protest, “Yes! You are! You are just a bit shy.”

I shook my head, “It’s not so much that I am shy… I guess… I just know… that people… don’t really like the way I am, that is what makes me feel shy. I can’t take all hate I get from people who don’t even have reasons to say rude things about me. Criticism I can take, pointless hate… I just can’t deal with that.”

She grew quiet for a moment, while I thought about the day’s events from earlier this morning. She softly spoke out, “I’m still sorry about what happened today, Marcel.”

I shrugged my shoulders a bit, “It’s not your fault Riley. Besides, I have to be used to it by now.”

I short smile flashed across her face. It was not of joy though, but of pain. “You…you shouldn’t have to be… used to that.”

She stood up walking across the room to embrace me in the second hug of the day. She always felt so warm and comforting. This hug lasted a bit longer than the one at school. I was able to hold on and take in her lovely scent. The truth was I would take a beating everyday if it meant I got to hold Riley close to me like that.

When we pulled apart a tear was streaming down her face. I was heartbroken. I hated seeing her cry. “Riley. Don’t cry. It’s fine. Please.”

I shot her a funny face in attempt to cheer her up. It worked slightly as she wiped her eyes giving a short laugh. She pondered over her next thought before stating, “Even though people treat you absolutely terrible, you should still do something with your voice. It’s so incredible.”

I shook my head, “No… there’s no way.”

Soon her eyes grew bright and even more gorgeous. “I’ve got an idea.” She grabbed my hand in hers and pulled me upstairs to my room.

“What are we doing?” I asked inquiringly as we entered into my bedroom.

Her face grew big and excited. “Marcel, what if you tried out for X-Factor, but not as you?”

I raised my eyebrows questioningly, “What are you on about Riley?”

She stated, “What if we gave you like… an alternate ego, or something?”

I shook my head, “That’ll never work. I’ll still look like me. Therefore people will still treat me the same and not take me seriously.”

She smiled, “…but maybe not. How you will you know if you never try?” Without giving me a chance to protest, she stepped closer to be and began rubbing her hands through my hair. “Ugh, Marcel! Why do you do this to your hair? Go wash it all out!”

I grabbed her hands in mine, gently pulling them out of my hair, even though I rather enjoyed the feeling. “What do you think you are doing?” I asked jokingly.

She smiled, “I am going to give you a bit of a makeover. Right now! Now go! Wash all this crap out of your hair.” She giggled while rubbing over my hair once again.

I rolled my eyes playfully as I obeyed her wishes and went to the bathroom. I stuck my head under the sink and began to rub out all the gel I had styled so carefully earlier to calm down my hair. I came back out with my wild curls in all sorts of directions.

“Perfect! It’s been forever since you wore your hair like this. I like it.” Her face was beaming making me happy.

She pulled me back into the bathroom and began rummaging through drawers pulling out all sorts of brushes and a blow dryer. I sat on the toilet as she started shaking her hands through my curls again, blow drying, and using some sort of brush, to style it a bit. It was ridiculous, but as long as she was happy, I would humor her.

“There!” she stated stepping back from her masterpiece. “Now… umm… go put your contacts in.”

I again obeyed, just to go along with it. It took me awhile to get them in as I didn't ever wear them, but I returned to her as soon as possible. She was sitting on the edge of my head with anticipation spread across her face. As soon as I walked in she stood up and looked at me with awe. “Marcel Sty, is that even you?”

I chuckled wiping my hand in a downward motion. “Surely I don’t look that different.”

She nodded her head, “…but you do! Like, I have known you your entire life, and I already barely recognize you! Now we just need to get you a new clothing style. Tomorrow? …and decide on an ego name.”

I stared, “Erm….”

She pondered for a few moments until her eyes lit up, “Well, we mostly just changed your hair, about umm… Harry? … Maybe Harold? It sounds more believable.”

I smiled, “Sure, whatever you like, but I need a last name then.”

She was quick this time, “We’ll just lengthen your last name… Sty… to Styles!”

“Styles?” I asked.

She nodded approvingly, “Yes, I can see it now, Harry Styles, the best new artist!”

Notes

So for old subscribers... this isn't anything really new. I just went back and added more detail and what not. I think it sounds a lot better now!

I hope everyone enjoys.
If this story picks up a bit more attention, I will keep writing it! :)
Thank you!:)