aintnothingleft

[aintnothingleft]

wash us away // mini fic // ch. 1

Rosalia was Niall’s girl—except she wasn’t, and Harry has the stars to thank.

mini-fic story page

Rosalia was Niall’s girl—except she wasn’t. Harry’s eyes had settled on her before he knew this, watching the way her red dress skimmed the floor and the light hit her exposed shoulders. This was the first time they met. She had been a little brash, although very apologetic, which Harry accredited to the glasses of champagne that she took long sips of as if she didn’t know what else to do with her hands. It was the Cancer Research UK Charity Ball, and while Harry supported the cause, he was in desperate need of a drink. The bar, located at the back of the main hall and up a series of steps, was largely deserted, except for the few that loitered in the area. Among them was Rosalia, who had been standing alone at the end of the bar with a glass of champagne, looking either lost or bored—he hadn’t decided. He made his way up to the bar, a few feet away from her, to make his order. The bartender was preoccupied with another attendee, and Harry took the time to admire his surroundings. Glancing over at the girl next to him, he noticed her looking at him curiously. He broke the ice with a casual hello. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I’ve just heard a lot about you. I’m Rosalia, I’m friends with Niall.”

Ah. Harry recognized her. She was the American Niall had met in an Irish pub, of all places, some months ago. Despite the distance, the two had been quietly joined at the hip. Niall claimed they were just friends and refused to speak more on the matter. She slept in his guest bedroom.

He shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

And she smiled. Harry didn’t want to admit that he was curiously attracted to her. Although Niall denied it, he had a small suspicion that there was something more to their friendship than he had let on.

But Harry couldn’t help but smile back at her. Rosalia hoped that he didn’t notice the flush in her cheeks that had resulted from a mixture of alcohol and staring at his dimples. She didn’t think anything of it, however. You would have to be blind not to notice how attractive he is, she thought.

The bartender approached the pair, and Harry ordered more champagne for the both of them.

“That’s a beautiful dress.”

And it was—deep red silk that hung off her shoulders and plunged slightly down her chest and grazed the carpet beneath them.

Rosalia hesitated but thanked Harry with a soft smile. She paused again, then stated as if it were a secret, “it doesn’t feel right to wear something so expensive. Niall bought it for me, but honestly, this dress cost about the same as a semester of my tuition. It’s Oscar de la Renta.”

Harry thought he detected a hint of sarcasm mixed with the incredulousness, but wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He didn’t have to, as Rosalia took another long sip of champagne and continued.

“Doesn’t it feel weird to you sometimes? Knowing that some of the outfits you wear could cover the cost of someone’s tuition? In the U.S., at least, it’s fucked. My loan payments start soon.”

Then she sighed--a deep sigh that she felt in the back of her chest, and her eyes squeezed shut for just a moment too long.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. You’ve obviously worked very hard for your money, and I didn’t mean to sound so judgmental.”

Harry, although slightly offended, knew that she meant no harm and made an effort to wipe the surprised look off his face. He wanted to tell her that he donated to charity but stopped himself. While this was true, (he was at a charity ball after all), he thought of the cars and houses and clothes that he owned that perhaps did err on the lavish side.

The bartender brought over their glasses, and Harry lifted his flute with a soft “cheers.”

Rosalia smiled again and took a sip of her own. She was embarrassed that she had brought up money around someone with so much of it and cursed the champagne that had been flowing freely down her throat all night. But the bubbles were sweet and welcome to the foreign and unfamiliar scene she was dealing with tonight. “I should find Niall, I think they are serving dinner soon.”

“I’ll come with you,” Harry offered. “It’s been a couple months since I’ve seen him.”

They walked back into the ballroom together, weaving through tables and chairs in search of Niall. Harry didn’t mind chatting with Rosalia in the meantime.

“So, tell me about yourself.”

Harry almost cringed at his own words; it was like he was trying to pick up a girl in a crowded bar. She grimaced back at his question.

“I don’t think there’s much to tell. I’m from Vancouver, Oregon, but I went to college in Eugene. I’m working in a coffee shop there...well, I’m searching for an actual job. I graduated in December, and, well, it’s May.”

“S’alright though,” he responded, although he really had no idea what he was talking about. Harry sometimes tried to imagine himself as a student but had little success in those thoughts. “What did you study at university?”

“International Studies, but I’m looking for a job with an NGO or nonprofit. There aren’t very many international relations jobs unless you move to a really big city like D.C. or New York. Or London, I suppose.” Rosalia grimaced again to herself at the thought of the cost of living in somewhere like D.C. or San Francisco.

“Would you want to move to a bigger city someday?”

Rosalia watched how his eyebrows pushed together as if he was in the midst of a serious conversation. She stifled a giggle.“Yes, definitely! But I’m sticking to Eugene for now, so I can save up some money.”

“What sort of nonprofit do you want to work at?”

“I’m not really sure! Anywhere that will hire me at this point, I guess. I just want to be able to make a difference, you know? Otherwise, what’s the point of it all.”

“To be happy?” he asked genuinely.

“I think that’s what would make me happy,” she offered.

As if to respond, Harry’s eyebrows pushed together again.

“Also, I’m sorry again about that tuition comment.”

He promised her it was okay. They found Niall, who had been busy chatting with people who Harry recognized and who Rosalia had never met, and he watched the smile that broke across Niall’s face when he saw the two of them approach.

“Harry! You’ve met Rosa, I see! I was gonna introduce ya’ two.”

“We met at the bar,” Rosalia replied with a sly smile, and her and Niall both laughed. Harry found himself watching them interact--they way they touched but never lingered. Niall’s hand grazed across her palm for a brief moment, but he made no effort to hold it.

While Niall responded to someone’s question, Rosalia turned to Harry and, in that same voice that reminded him of a secret whisper, said, “I’m glad I met you, I didn’t know anyone here besides Niall.’just gets a bit boring and all.” Harry was glad he had met her too.

***** The next day, Harry made a call to his agency. He wasn’t certain of all of the logistics, only the idea; however, he knew that he wanted Rosalia involved. Harry couldn’t decide exactly why--if he wanted her to feel proud of him or if he was embarrassed at how money had seemed so trivial to him recently or if, maybe, he was doing it for purely selfless, good reasons. Harry sent a text to Niall.

It was hours before he responded with her number, surprisingly with no further questions asked, and Harry contemplated between texting or calling her. He decided on the latter, pulling at his lip while the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Harry. Er, Harry Styles”

“Oh, hi!” She pipped in surprise, and he chuckled in response. “Um, what’s up?

Harry assumed that Niall hadn’t told her he’d asked for her phone number. “Look, I’ve thought about that comment you made yesterday...about your dress and tuition. I’ve pitched an idea to my label, and, well, they’re all for it because it’ll be good PR and, ehm, it’s my money technically,” Harry took a pause, struggling to string his words together. “Basically, I want to set up a scholarship fund using a portion of ticket sales from my concerts? I think for the U.S. and U.K. right now, and then we can look into extending it to other countries. I don’t really know where to start, but I was wondering if you’d want to join the project. I’d pay you a salary, of course.”

Rosalia was caught off guard; she hadn’t even gotten fully dressed yet for the day and was being offered her first real job since graduating.  “Harry, I would love to! But the thing is that I’m flying back home in a few days. The 18th to be exact.”

“That’s not a problem,” he responded. “You can work remotely, it doesn’t matter. I would just want to arrange a meeting with Megan Fitzpatrick, who’s joining on from my label, and myself before you go to run through some logistics. She’ll probably be handling most of the UK side of this. Or, if you want, I can connect you to someone in LA? I’ll be flying in at the end of the month”

“No, this week works for me. Could we do Monday or Tuesday?”

“Yeah, I’ll let Megan know and have her get in touch with you, alright?.”

Rosalia  paused. “You know I don’t have experience with this stuff, right?”

“Everyone has to learn somewhere. Just prepare some ideas, and you’ll be great.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

[aintnothingleft]

SNEAK PEEK: wash us away // chapter 1

Rosalia was Niall’s girl—except she wasn’t, and Harry has the stars to thank. 

***

Rosalia was Niall’s girl—except she wasn’t. Harry’s eyes had settled on her before he knew this, watching the way her dress skimmed the floor and the light hit her exposed shoulders. This was the first time they met. She had been a little brash, although very apologetic, which Harry accredited to the glasses of champagne that she took long sips of as if she didn’t know what else to do with her hands. It was the Cancer Research UK Charity Ball, and while Harry supported the cause, he was in desperate need of a drink. The bar, located at the back of the main hall and up a series of steps, was largely deserted, except for the few that loitered in the area. Among them was Rosalia, who had been standing alone at the end of the bar with a glass of champagne, looking either lost or bored—he hadn’t decided. He made his way up to the bar, a few feet away from her, to make his order. The bartender was preoccupied with another attendee, and Harry took the time to admire his surroundings. Glancing over at the girl next to him, he noticed her looking at him curiously. He broke the ice with a casual hello. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I’ve just heard a lot about you. I’m Rosalia, I’m friends with Niall.” Ah. Harry recognized her. She was the American Niall had met in an Irish pub, of all places, some months ago. Despite the distance, the two had been quietly joined at the hip. Niall claimed they were just friends and refused to speak more on the matter. She slept in his guest bedroom. He shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” “Likewise.” And she smiled. Harry didn’t want to admit that he was curiously attracted to her. Although Niall denied it, he had a small suspicion that there was something more to their friendship than he had let on. But Harry couldn’t help but smile back at her. Rosalia hoped that he didn’t notice the flush in her cheeks that had resulted from a mixture of alcohol and staring at his dimples. She didn’t think anything of it, however. You would have to be blind not to notice how attractive he is, she thought. The bartender approached the pair, and Harry ordered more champagne for the both of them. “That’s a beautiful dress.” And it was—deep red silk that hung off her shoulders and plunged slightly down her chest and grazed the carpet beneath them. Rosalia hesitated but thanked Harry with a soft smile. She paused again, then stated as if it were a secret, “it doesn’t feel right to wear something so expensive. Niall bought it for me, but honestly, this dress cost about the same as a semester of my tuition. It’s Oscar de la Renta.”