Harry tried awfully hard to be a good person. He strived to be someone who got all the positive attention, basking in the light of remarkable deeds and winning over everyone’s heart. Brooding and moping over one mistake that could most likely be fixed wasn’t in his character, yet he found himself doing so for the past month. Actually, a lot of things he’d been doing lately were out of character, so why were they happening? Why was he just making one horrible mistake after the other?

He stalked the cluttered aisles of the thrift store, touching clothes other people had worn before. His current girlfriend, a model named Riley, really liked recycled clothes. With magic she could turn them into posh-looking fashion pieces. Harry wasn’t sure what he was looking for: big, stocky coats, plain blouses, or maybe some funky t-shirts? It was her birthday tomorrow, and Harry just wanted to make it up to her in the most thoughtful way he could. Despite his situation, he could have bought her an expensive necklace or took her out to a secluded, romantic dinner. He didn’t want to flaunt his money though.

Amongst the woman’s dresses, Harry could hear an intense conversation on the other side of the clothing racks. He couldn’t see the girl on the other side for the racks were too high, but he could tell she was on the phone. She paused in between her angry outbursts, and there was a tiny voice yelling right back at her.

“College just isn’t my thing. I don’t why you think it’s okay to boss me around when I’m nineteen years old and free to do as I please…No, I’m getting on fine without you crawling down my throat and trying to control me…Fine!”

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” the girl stuttered out eventually.

Harry shook his head before realizing the faceless girl couldn’t see his gesture. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You were talking quite loud, though.”

“Sorry. It’s a bad habit needing to be broken.”

“It’s all right.”

Harry returned his attention to the dresses before him, trying to remember what he’d often appreciated Riley wearing when they went out. Was it the short, colorful dresses she liked to wear or was that someone else?

“What’re you shopping for?”

It surprised Harry that the girl wanted to continue on talking to him, but she could have been a fan. She probably recognized his voice, and was eventually going to work up to asking him for a picture which he didn’t mind at all.

“I’m getting some things for my girlfriend. It’s a real hassle picking clothes out for her.”

“Oh, that’s a relief. I was wondering why a man was over in the woman’s section.”

“Don’t judge,” Harry said sternly. “I sometimes get woman scarves and jumpers.”

The girl laughed, maybe a little more than necessary which made Harry smile. “No judging here. Like I said, I was just wondering.”

“Good,” Harry pulled a black, peplum dress from the rack. “Hey, could you give me your opinion on this dress?”

“Sure,” the girl on the other side replied. “Shove it through the clothes and let me see.”

Harry pushed aside the clothes, carefully maneuvering the garment to the other side. The girl’s cold fingers brushed Harry’s, making him shiver. “What do you think?”

“It’s horrid. The neckline and sleeves just scream ‘grandma’.”

The dress was returned to his hands, so he pulled it back to examine it again. “It didn’t look too horrid to me.”

“Well, you obviously need help when it comes to women’s clothes.”

Harry frowned, hanging the dress back on the peeling, silver bar. If the girl was a fan, she certainly was different from the lot of them. He didn’t have much time to spend with fans until recently, but the girl beyond the clothing racks in front of him sparked his curiosity. “What about you?”

“What?”

“Would you help me pick out some things for my girlfriend?” He asked casually.

After a pause, the girl spoke. “I don’t think I can. Thrift shopping with a stranger would be quite the thrill, but I’ve got to be somewhere in an hour.”

“It’d hardly take more than twenty minutes. I just need a female opinion or else I’ll be buying grandma clothes.”

“Pull me through.”

Harry was confused until the girl’s small hand peeked through the dresses. He quickly grabbed her hand, moving the dresses aside with the other to help her cross to the other side. Standing before each other, Holly and Harry immediately recognized one another—Holly as the “Uptight Bathroom Lady” and Harry as the “Womanizing Douchebag”.

“I’ll buy you some new flowers for the bathroom,” he told her sincerely, but with a smirk.

“Thanks, but there’s no need. I’ve already gotten new ones.”

“And I’m sorry about barging into the women’s bathroom like I did.”

“Not a big deal, just don’t let it happen again. That’s something I could lose my job over.”

“I promise it won’t happen again. Anyways, let’s shop shall we?”

Harry was slightly relieved. Holly didn’t know who he was—who Harry Styles of One Direction was. He found out that she heard of them, but didn’t have the time or the resources to ever know the extents or basic, so he didn’t tell her. Not that it really mattered anymore who he was. One Direction was a fading household name and even he had to admit that. Even so, everyoneknew about the Harry Styles drama which was more popular than the band itself. At least Holly didn’t know.

They ended up spending forty minutes picking out two blouses and a jean vest before Holly had to leave. She left him in the waiting line, three customers away from the cash register and without any way to contact her. Harry told himself he didn’t need to call her or see her again, but he couldn’t help but feel like he’d made yet another mistake.