The Last Line: Part One
Part One
Word Count: 9.4K || Series Masterlist || Rating: M
A/N: I didn’t think I’d be writing another series so soon after TYTM but...this little idea of an enemies-to-friends-to-lovers story that I’ve been thinking about for a long time just wouldn’t go away. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I’m enjoying writing it. Would love to hear what everyone thinks!
***
May 12, 2017
Review: Harry Styles Heads In A New Direction
By Penny Sanders
If you know someone, most likely a young woman, between the ages of 13 and 30, chances are you’ve heard of Harry Styles.
Or at least his former band, One Direction.
Styles is one of the five young men that were thrown together by the infamous Simon Cowell to create the best selling boy band of all-time. Over their brief career, One Direction’s discography cast a wide net, attracting fans of all ages. Young tweens and their millennial counterparts were drawn in by the clean-cut look of the lads clad in blazers and bowties and lyrics that felt like they were pulled from a self-insert fanfiction. However, as the years progressed the band added a bit of an edge – tattoos, rumors of an attempted threesome, and lyrics about a loaded gun (read: erect penis). But with 1D in the midst of an indefinite hiatus, all eyes are on Harry, Niall, Liam, and Louis (and Zayn too) to see what comes next.
Styles has answered that question with a 10-song debut that is worlds away from the five albums he put out with his former band. Gone are the bubblegum beats, replaced by alternatively somber and bombastic instrumentals. And forget cheeky “wink-wink nod-nod” lyrics to – gasp! sex! Styles readily admits getting himself off in a hotel room in the album’s closer, “From the Dining Table.”
It’s not a poor offering, but frankly, it’s not great either. While he pushes himself to redefine the sound that has been associated with him for more than five years, the result is a generic LP that will likely be forgotten as soon as one of the industry’s legitimate superstars releases a new single. And, to head off the question I’ve already received from many of Styles’ supporters on Twitter, I can guarantee that you won’t be seeing this album or any of its tracks, mentioned at this year’s Grammy Awards.
One of the bright spots on the album, the lead single “Sign Of The Times,” feels like a grand moment, but it also feels misplaced, almost as if it was a song that should have come a decade into his solo career. Despite poignant lyrics (the song is purportedly about a mother dying in childbirth), Styles’ falsetto needs strengthening and at times he sounds like a young boy trying to imitate his elders. He has talent and shows promise, but isn’t able to pull off a ballad of that caliber yet. Other songs, like “Sweet Creature” and “Two Ghosts” are instantly forgettable, though “Kiwi,” while memorable, is just plain painful to listen to.
Styles is obviously popular, and that alone will be enough to propel him to years of sold-out shows and chart-topping albums. But he needs something else – a secret ingredient if you will – to launch him to further stardom and cement his name alongside his idols Nicks, Bowie, and Jagger. Otherwise, he’ll be nothing but a midnight memory.
***
September 21, 2017
Review: Harry Styles Rocks The Greek Theatre
By Penny Sanders
Months after the release of his self-titled debut album, Harry Styles found himself at the Greek Theatre, ready to play to a sold out crowd that had likely been waiting for this moment since One Direction’s final performance.
And let me just say, attending a Harry Styles concert is an experience like no other.
The intimate venue was a nice change of pace for Styles who was selling out stadiums in the latter half of One Direction’s tour. He was always seen as the charming one, and the small stage makes that even more apparent, giving him more than enough time to banter with the audience, introduce songs, and connect with his audience. I’m sure many of those in the front of the crowd will tell stories for years to come of the night they made eye contact with the heartthrob.
With just 10 songs of his own, he relied on some One Direction hits and other covers to fill out the setlist. With the exception of “The Chain,” most of the covers sounded nothing like the original version, leading anyone unfamiliar with Styles’ career so far to assume the guitar heavy, rocking versions of the songs – notably “What Makes You Beautiful” and “Story of My Life” – are the standard.
Styles has a charisma like no other, and even though it’s clear it takes him a while to warm up to the crowd, perhaps a symptom of never being alone onstage in his career so far, he’s a born performer who belongs on the stage. But for me, he wasn’t the standout. It was his fans.
The crowd was ready for fun, dressed to the nines, with nearly everyone carrying overflowing bags of merch. They sang along to the songs word perfect and clung to Styles every word, cheering louder than I’ve ever heard when he entered the stage. It was a joyous occasion and had an energy I haven’t seen in any of the concerts I’ve recently attended.
I spoke to a number of women in attendance last night, asking them what drew them to the show. Some cited their One Direction fandom, while others spoke of the sounds of his music, and how it reminded them of other classic songs they love. But for many, Styles himself was the primary reason for being there.
“He makes things really personal,” said Ally, a college student who came from Minneapolis to see the show – her third time seeing Styles this year. “A lot of the other concerts I go to, the artists don’t say anything other than a generic thank you. But Harry makes every show feel special.”
“He feels like a friend,” said Katrina, a local high-schooler. “School’s not always easy and I sometimes struggle with things, but when I listen to his music or go to one of his shows, it feels comforting. Like I’m in a safe place.”
These statements perfectly summarize why Styles’ concerts are so unique.
If he stays true to what his fans want and lets his personality shine on stage, that, in addition to strengthening his songwriting, could be enough to land him alongside his musical icons, and 50 years from now, we’ll see him headlining stadiums on his own, playing a career’s worth of hits as the crowd – full more than just women – sings along.
Longtime readers will remember that I was less than effusive in my review of Styles’s debut, but after seeing him live, I must eat my words and say he’s going places.
***
Transcript from the “Track After Track” podcast, Episode 147: July 21, 2018
Ethan: Speaking of concerts, Penny, you just saw Harry Styles at the Forum, right?
Penny: Yeah, I was there a week ago. Eight days? No a week ago. Sorry it all blends together.
Ethan: I mean, you are at a concert every night, pretty much, so I’ll give you a pass.
Penny: [laughs] You’re so kind. But yes, I was at his show.
Tyler: How was that? I never know what to make of these boy band guys. For every Timberlake, there’s 10 Chris Kirkpatricks.
Penny: It wasn’t terrible. He puts on a good show.
Ethan: Was this your first time seeing him?
Penny: No. I saw him twice when he was in One Direction. And when he was at the Greek.
Tyler: And?
Penny: Like I said, he’s not terrible. It’s clear that his music and personality has resonated with a lot of people, so his shows are filled with fans and have a great energy. Listening to the album on its own is kind of meh…there weren’t a lot of tracks that stuck out as memorable…but live it can be kind of fun. You can tell he loves performing and really feeds off the crowd.
Ethan: Confession: I actually haven’t listened to the album yet.
Penny: That doesn’t surprise me based on the number of EDM CDs in your car.
Ethan: [laughs] Yeah, the genre definitely isn’t my cup of tea, but I think Harry is someone the industry really needs to watch. He’s going to do big things. Well, even bigger since he’s already pretty massive. Tyler, have you listened?
Tyler: Yeah, but I just can’t bring myself to get into it. Like, you just mention his name and you can hear the teen girls screaming off in the distance. I just think it’s a red flag when your fanbase is that narrow. Like if teen girls are your driver, how are you going to succeed? What happens when they’re not 13 and hormonal anymore. You’re not seeing a lot of geriatric boy band fans.
Penny: Wow! Ageism and sexism all in one statement! That has to be a first for you! It’s fine to say you don’t like his music, but to discount it purely on the basis that younger women like it…that’s just plain ignorant.
Tyler: Let’s evaluate this in five years and see where he is.
Penny: Fine, in five years have me back on this podcast and we’ll discuss his Grammy win.
Tyler: You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think Harry Styles will win a Grammy. You need to start thinking with your head and not your – (inaudible)
Penny: Seriously?
Ethan: OK, let’s talk charts…
***
Talking Biz News
November 8, 2018
Penny Sanders to join media start-up The Moment as Music Reporter
***
Present Day, 2019
“She needs to go back to copyediting and stop fucking up my stories,” Chloe barked, stabbing lettuce onto her fork to match her anger. “She knows nothing about film but is constantly trying to make corrections and I’m just like ‘No?!? That’s not how the fucking industry works.’” She looked across the table at Penny. “Am I crazy?”
“No, you’re not crazy,” Penny said, trying to soothe her friend. “I have the same issue with Darren. He came in thinking he was hot shit because he had been at Rolling Stone and started trying to explain how the charts work as if I haven’t been covering this for years. I can’t tell you how much time I spend undoing his edits before the piece goes to Skylar.”
“Why can’t this newsroom hire a competent editor?” Chloe asked. “It’s not that hard.”
“Probably because no editor wants to work here?”
“Good point!”
Penny and Chloe were eating a late lunch in the courtyard of the complex that housed The Moment, the entertainment publication they both worked for. They’d met three years ago during a summer internship at Variety and forged an alliance after realizing they were the only two women in the program. Penny had wanted to cover music and Chloe was determined to become a film reporter, and they’d been thrilled to finally end up at The Moment together after several years of freelancing and fighting for staff writer roles. Now, they were unstoppable, filing stories daily and dodging pointless notes from their first editors.
“Wait, Penny…didn’t you file your piece on ‘Old Town Road’ today?”
“Yes, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why? It’s such an interesting story,” Chloe whined. “And I haven’t seen anyone covering it yet.”
“That always makes me nervous.” Penny swirled her spoon through her bowl of soup.
“It shouldn’t. It means you’re ahead of the curve.”
“Or I’ve completely misjudged the story. Maybe it’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. Give it a month and everyone will be talking about it.” Chloe paused. “Is Darren taking firsts?”
“Yes.”
“Oh fuck.”
“Yeah, it’s not looking good for me, Chlo.”
The Moment’s typical reporting and editing process involved a reporter filing a story to one editor, who would do an intensive first edit, fixing the structure of the story, making notes on sections that needed to be added or get cut, and getting the piece 99% ready for publication. The second round of edits was largely focused on fixing grammar and spelling, as well as fact-checking, ahead of publication. Penny typically preferred Skylar, the publication’s editor-in-chief, to take on first edits. While she could be tough, she was smart and kind, and Penny’s stories were always much better after Skylar got her hands on them. When other editors, like Darren, took first edits, Penny knew to prepare herself for days of tears, stress, and questioning her life choices.
“What about you?” Penny asked, wanting to shift the conversation away from her anxiety over her story. “Have things calmed down post-Oscars?”
“Yes. Thankfully.”
Penny knew Chloe loved her job but from late August to early March, she was running from festival to festival, covering awards season. In addition to writing her articles, she, like Penny, found herself taking on media hits as an added responsibility, appearing on morning shows, podcasts, and radio programs to break down entertainment topics for everyday consumers. It was fun and super fulfilling, but it was also exhausting.
“When is Cannes again?”
“May!” Chloe said brightly. “Easily my favorite festival.”
“I have no idea why,” Penny said with a sly grin. “Two weeks on a French beach surrounded by celebrities, eating the most delicious food. It sounds horrid.”
“Oh my God, Penny? What are you doing here?”
Penny and Chloe turned in synchronicity to look at the man who had shouted at them from a table across the path.
“Do we know him?” Chloe asked, mumbling the question through the tentative grin she had plastered on her face.
“I can’t actually see his face,” Penny admitted, squinting trying to gain a better view.
“This is why you need to wear your glasses,” Chloe hissed.
“Of all the food courts in Los Angeles,” the man continued as he walked over to them.
“Wait…Tom? Is that you?”
“It is! How have you been?” He opened his arms and pulled Penny into him. She wrapped her own arms around him.
“So good. I didn’t realize you were out here.”
“I’ve actually been here for a few years now.”
“Shit. Really. I feel so bad that I didn’t reach out,” Penny said apologetically. “And I’m also surprised that my mom didn’t mention you.”
“Eh, it’s not a problem,” he shrugged.
“Care to introduce me?” Chloe asked.
“Ah, yes,” Penny said, composing herself. “Chloe, this is Tom Skoglund. He’s a longtime family friend, although I’m sure that title is being called into question since I didn’t even know he was living here. Tom, this is Chloe. She’s a friend of mine who also works at The Moment.” Penny stepped back to allow Chloe and Tom to shake hands and exchange pleasantries. “Do you want to sit with us?” she asked when they were finished, noting Tom’s sandwich and chips.
“If you don’t mind,” he said. “I’d love to catch up.”
Penny and Chloe sat back down as Tom pulled up a third chair and set his food down. “So you’re still doing the reporter thing?” he asked with a grin. He turned to Chloe. “Penny used to write a newsletter for everyone in the neighborhood. It had news items and opinion pieces all written by her. I seem to remember a glowing review for the second High School Musical soundtrack.”
“It’s full of bangers and you know it,” Penny said with a grin.
Tom turned to Chloe. “Do you also cover music?”
Chloe shook her head. “I’m a film girl.”
“Thoughts on the Oscars?” he asked as he took a bite.
“Anyone who actually pays attention to previous stats knew that Green Book would pull out a win so I wasn’t surprised. I will be curious to see what Netflix does next though. I personally thought The Favourite should have won, but that’s why I’m not a voter.”
“I literally only saw Black Panther and A Star Is Born so I feel like I don’t have room to say anything,” Tom said with a grimace.
“You sound like Penny,” Chloe said with a laugh. “She can tell you the exact week a song hit number one on the Billboard charts, but is frighteningly unaware of the latest movies.”
“I only have so much room for useless facts,” Penny said, earning a kick under the table from Chloe. She turned her attention back to Tom. “What are you doing here? Last I heard my mom said you were working in finance? Is that still the case?”
“God no,” he said lightly. “I had enough of that soul crushing job and decided to head out here to hack it in music. Got an assistant gig and worked my way up to manager.”
“Tom, that’s incredible,” Penny said with genuine excitement. “Who are you with?”
“Full Stop. With Jeff Azoff”
“Wow,” Penny said as Chloe let out a slow whistle. She turned to look at her friend.
“Yes, I know who the Azoffs are,” Chloe said. “And that’s impressive. Congrats, Tom.” Her phone chirped and she looked down at the screen. “Fuck. One of my sources wants to chat. I’ve got to take this.” She looked up at Penny and Tom. “It was so nice to meet you, Tom. Penny, I’ll see you at drinks later?”
Penny nodded and waved as Chloe disappeared across the grass, depositing her empty salad container in the trash. “So Full Stop,” she said, turning back to Tom. “You all have quite the roster.”
“Before you ask, no comment,” Tom said with a grin.
“Tom, I’m disappointed that you’d think I would stoop that low. I have a firm stance on not using friends for work stuff.”
“Well good, because you’d get nothing out of me.” He took a sip of his drink. “Remind me, are you still doing breaking news?” He grimaced. “I know I see your byline frequently, but I don’t always remember which article it comes in front of.”
“No. I moved on from that.” Penny didn’t miss the days of covering the desk at night, ready to pounce on any stories that came across the wire. “I mostly do reviews for concerts and albums now. I’m working my way up to business features, profiles, those types of things.”
“What should I go back and get caught up on?”
“I reviewed Maggie Rogers’ album a couple of weeks ago and wrote a review of Elton John’s show last week.”
“God, doesn’t he put on a great show.”
“One of the best. And I’m working on a feature about TikTok and ‘Old Town Road’ right now.”
“That sounds so interesting. Is it up yet?”
“No. I just filed it to my editor so there is a very good chance that it will never see the light of day. But if it does, I will send it your way.”
“Please. Let me give you my number.”
Penny pulled out her phone and handed it to her old friend. It was a strange feeling knowing that in the heyday of their friendship, they hadn’t needed each other's number, knowing they could always find the other in the cul-de-sac or the school hallways.
“Done.” Tom said, saving his contact information and passing the phone back to Penny, who quickly dashed off a text so he would have her information as well.
“I should probably head back into the office now,” Penny said. “But it was great to see you.”
“You too,” Tom said, standing to hug her. “Actually, I was wondering if you’d want to come to a little party slash happy hour thing I’m having on Friday. It’s super casual, basically just drinks and fancy snacks with a bunch of people from the office. I think they’d all love to meet you and talk music. Off the record,” he added quickly.
“That sounds like a lot of fun,” Penny replied. “I should be free Friday.”
“Great. I’ll text you my address and we can take it from there.”
“Thanks, Tom,” Penny said, collecting her trash. “I’m really looking forward to seeing more of you.”
“Same. I’ll see you on Friday.”
Penny waved as she threw her trash away and headed back to her building. She smiled to herself. It would be nice to have another friendly face around. They were too rare in her line of work.
***
Penny promptly shut her laptop at 5pm, stowing it in her tote bag and pushing her chair underneath her desk.
“Have a nice weekend!” she called out to the few staffers that were remaining in the newsroom, before heading to her car. She plugged Tom’s address into her GPS app, hit play on her Spotify playlist, and pulled out of the parking lot. She was about 45 minutes away, thanks to the heavy traffic that was a near constant presence in the city, but made it to Tom’s house before her 80s synth mix was finished playing, which she counted as a win.
She grabbed her bag and fished around in the backseat for the bottle of wine she’d purchased earlier that day. She wasn’t sure if this was that type of gathering, but she felt weird showing up empty handed. Hopefully Tom wouldn’t say no to some Trader Joe’s wine. She locked her car and walked up the path and heard some shouts coming from the backyard. She rang the bell and just a few moments later, Tom appeared with a smile on his face.
“Penny! Come on in!” he said, opening the door for her. “How was the drive over?”
“Not as bad as it could have been,” she replied, shrugging off her cardigan and tote bag.
“I can take those,” Tom offered, reaching for her belongings, and placing them in a nearby closet.
“Thanks,” Penny said. “And this is for you,” she added, offering him the bottle of wine.
“You didn’t have to bring anything.”
“It’s from Trader Joe’s, Tom. It is quite literally the least I could do.”
He laughed. “Well, thank you. I’ll put it out now. It’s an open bar, so help yourself. Once you get a drink, I’ll take you around and introduce you to everyone.”
Penny poured herself a rum and Coke, and followed Tom out to the patio, drink in hand.
“Penny, I’d like you to meet Tommy Bruce,” he said. “Tommy, this is my friend, Penny. We reconnected the other day.”
“Pleasure, Penny,” Tommy said, shaking her hand. “Do you also work in the industry?”
“Sort of. I’m a critic and reporter at The Moment. I cover music.”
“That’s sick. Do you go to a lot of shows?”
“Yes. I was at Elton John’s show the other day and I’m planning to see Post Animal in a couple of weeks.”
“I was at Elton too! I wonder if we ran into each other?”
“We probably did,” Penny said with a laugh.
“Are you planning to go to Leon Bridges?”
“I’m not sure yet. I have to get everything approved by my editor so it’s up to her.”
“I hope you can. He’s so good. Hey, Jeff!”
Tom and Tommy turned their attention to another man that had approached their small group.
“Penny, this is the man, the myth, the legend, Jeffrey Azoff,” Tom said.
“They exaggerate,” Jeff said. “Nice to meet you Penny.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Penny said, moving her drink to her other hand so she could shake Jeff’s. “I’m an old friend of Tom’s from growing up. I work as a music journalist now.”
“Yeah, you’re at The Moment, right?” Jeff said.
“Yes…” Penny said slowly.
“OK,” Tommy said, affably rolling his eyes. “He’s such a show off.”
“I try to keep up with those who cover our clients, that’s all,” Jeff said. “And if it makes me look like a show-off, so be it,” he added, as Tommy playfully punched his shoulder.
As the men continued to banter, Penny surveyed the room, making the silent calculation she faced nearly everyday. Including herself, there were four women total at the gathering, which felt like a huge accomplishment. Working in her industry, she was used to being one of the only women in the room, a blessing and a curse.
The blessing was that whenever she found another woman at an event or meeting, they instantly gravitated toward each other, which meant she’d made a lot of friends in just a few years. The curse was obvious: men.
The men that surrounded her weren’t the worst offenders – they kept their hands and other body parts to themselves and were generally very kind – but being the lone woman was noticeable. Men would casually throw out that someone was a “bitch” or offer Penny an explanation that they didn’t give to a male reporter two years her junior. Penny usually just took it with a grain of salt, sighing internally, complaining to Chloe, and then proving her worth by being the smartest one in the room. Keeping an eye on two women chatting in the corner, she started to move towards them to introduce herself when she caught sight of another person across the way.
Harry Styles.
Or was it? Was that actually him? Chloe was right, she needed to wear her glasses more often. But Harry Styles being here didn’t make any sense. What would he be doing at a random house party?
She felt a hand on her shoulder and stepped over to the side to allow the person to pass and collect her thoughts. The more she thought about it, Harry Styles being at this party made sense. She knew from stories she’d worked on that he was repped by Full Stop, so it wasn’t totally out of the realm of possibility that he would hang out with Tom and the other agents outside of work, but it was still jarring to see him out in the wild.
Whenever she told people she was a music journalist, their first instinct was to assume that she was close to many of the artists she reported on daily, but that wasn’t the case. When she was attending an event, it was a professional engagement. She was there to gather the facts, tell a story, and move on. Socializing with those in the industry outside of that professional setting made her uncomfortable. Especially when she was working on a review or piece of criticism. It was one thing to write those things and send them off into the vacuum of the internet, but when she thought about the subjects of the reviews reading her writing, she started to feel…guilty. She never intended to be mean – she knew how she felt when she received harsh notes from an editor – but the point of her reviews was to offer commentary and opinions. And if she thought too much about the people behind the work, her objectivity disappeared. So, she’d made a concerted effort to keep a firm boundary to ensure her writing was as good as it could be.
The few times she did meet musicians outside of work events, she could feel her brain going a mile a minute to remember if she’d ever written something slightly negative about them for fear they’d call her out on it, as despite what every musician claimed, they always read the reviews. And her brain started working overtime to perform these mental calculations as she saw Harry stop in front of her.
“Haven’t seen you here before. I’m Harry,” he drawled slowly, reaching out his hand.
Penny momentarily froze, but quickly recovered. “I’m Penny,” she said, shaking his hand.
“Do you work at Full Stop?” he asked, eyes glancing over her as if he was trying to figure out where she should be placed.
“No.”
“At one of the labels?”
“No.”
“OK, well I’m stumped as to where you fit it,” he said with a light laugh. “Care to enlighten me?”
“I’m a writer,” Penny replied, hoping the vague nature of her answer was enough to satisfy him.
“Have you written anything I’ve read?”
“Maybe.”
“Care to give me any other clues?” he asked, sipping from the plastic cup in his hand and leaning in closer to hear her response. Penny couldn’t tell what it was, but from the smell wafting over to her, it was something strong.
“I’m a journalist.”
“What do you cover?” Another sip, his eyes intensely focused on her.
“Entertainment,” Penny said simply, praying this game of 20 questions would be over soon.
“That’s kind of vague,” Harry replied quickly.
“That’s kind of the point.”
“Oh! A woman with an air of mystery. That’s…” he paused. “Enticing.”
“Enticing?” Penny quirked a brow and shot him a bemused grin.
“Yeah, it’s like a challenge. You’re making me work for it.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know, maybe a drink?” Harry asked hopefully.
“Wow. Subtle.”
“I try.” The corners of his lips ticked up. “Maybe I should try a little harder though.”
Penny was thinking up a witty comeback, somewhat amused by the situation she’d found herself in and very pleased that she’d have a new story to share with Chloe at lunch on Monday, when Tom interrupted their conversation.
“There you two are! I was hoping to introduce you all tonight.” He looked at Harry, gesturing to Penny. “This is Penny. She’s a friend from back home who’s a big time writer for The Moment. She writes reviews for concerts and albums.”
Penny snuck a look at Harry and thought she saw a flicker of…something…in his eyes. It was so subtle and so brief that she didn’t have time to think about what it could mean before she felt Tom’s arm on her back.
“And Penny, you of course know Harry.”
“I do. I think one of my friends had a toothbrush with your face on it.”
“Hmmm,” Harry murmured. “Those were a hot item for sure.”
Tom’s eyes darted between the two, evidently waiting for them to continue the conversation he had interrupted. Seeing that that wasn’t going to happen, he excused himself and moved onto another group of people.
“So, music is the kind of entertainment you cover.” The banter was back but it had a harder edge this time.
“It is.”
“Have you ever written about me?”
Penny mulled her potential responses, trying to find one that could cause the path of least resistance. “No,” she said simply.
“Really?” Harry said. The challenge in his voice was evident. “You weren’t the one who said I sound like ‘a young boy trying to imitate his elders?’”
Fuck. Penny felt her face grow hot. “That might have been me.”
“I thought so.”
“How long did you know?”
“Once Tom said the name of where you work. There aren’t that many critics named Penny that wrote a scathing review of my album.”
“It wasn’t scathing,” Penny said, suddenly feeling defensive of her work. “It was critical, sure, but that’s what my job is. I’m a critic. And besides, don't musicians get off on bragging about how they don’t pay attention to the reviews?”
“Hate to break it to you but that’s a load of bullshit. We are all very sensitive creatures.”
“Well, that’s clear based on how you’re acting now.”
“How I'm acting? You’re the one that’s yelling in the middle of a party.”
“I’m not yelling!” Penny said, lowering her voice by a couple of decibels. “You’re the one that came over here trying to score and then decided to pick a fight because you can’t forget about one review from like two years ago.”
“I’m sorry–” Harry laughed in disbelief. “You thought I was trying to get lucky? What made you think that?”
“‘Ah! A mysterious woman! So enticing! I like a challenge. You’re making me bloody work for it. Let’s get a drink!’” Penny shot back in a poor imitation of his slow, deep voice.
“I did not say that.”
“Yes you did!” Penny yelped. “You totally did.”
“Whatever,” Harry mumbled, taking another sip of his drink while Penny just looked at him.
“That’s all you have to say?”
Harry looked at her blankly. “Yes?”
“Oh, I thought you might offer up a sorry.”
“What for?”
“For attacking my work.”
“I hate to break it to you, Penny, but I think you attacked my work first.”
“Because it’s my fucking job!”
“Everything alright over here?” Jeff asked, stepping into the conversation. The look of caution on his face told Penny that her conversation with Harry had been overheard by the others at the party.
“We’re fine,” Penny said evenly.
“Yeah, peachy keen,” Harry added, earning a glare from Penny.
“I should actually be going,” Penny said.
“Oh, can’t you stay a little longer?” Jeff asked as Harry muttered “Bye, then.” Jeff cut his eyes over to Harry, who avoided his glance. “Alright then,” he said slowly. “It was nice to meet you, Penny. Hope to see you around.”
“You, too,” Penny said before swiftly leaving the group.
“What was that about?” Jeff asked, attention turned back to Harry.
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“You were a bit, shall we say…dickish…back there?”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“If you say so,” Jeff said. He paused. “Have you read any of her work?”
“I’ve read enough of it.”
“You should honestly read some more. The Moment in general is a really up-and-coming publication. They’ve poached some stellar writers and editors from Billboard and Rolling Stone. And Penny…she’s smart. I think you all would have a lot to talk about.”
Harry glared at Jeff. “What makes you say that?”
“She’s got an interesting perspective. Her reviews always leave me thinking about things in a different way and I can’t say that about many critics.”
“Oh really,” Harry shot back, suddenly combative. “Did you start to reconsider my album after reading her review?”
“Calm down, H,” Jeff said gently. “Your album is a fantastic accomplishment and you know it. And she doesn’t just write criticism, she does cultural pieces as well. Check them out. She was on a podcast last year that you might find interesting.” Jeff pulled out his phone, typing quickly. “Here’s a link. Give it a listen and let me know what you think.”
Harry shot Jeff another glare and drained his cup. “Thanks,” he said dryly. “I’ll move it to the top of the list. See you later,” he called, pushing past his manager.
He tossed his cup into a nearby trash can and combed the room for Tom, offering a wave as he walked out the door. Harry walked slowly down the driveway, feeling the cool night air blow through his hair, relishing the peace. He’d felt a little off all day, but couldn’t put a finger on why, and his encounter with Penny had thrown him even more off balance. He’d been feeling like this a lot recently. Like he didn’t quite fit in alongside the other pieces of his life. He reached his car and unlocked it, sliding inside.
He plugged in his phone and stared out the windshield. Penny. He hadn’t known who she was when he approached her that night. Only that she looked pretty and that the smile she’d worn when he saw her talking to Jeff and Tommy made him want to know more about her. But as the pieces fell into place, it was impossible to look past what she’d done to him two years ago.
He didn’t know why her review had struck such a nerve with him. It wasn’t like his debut had been released to unanimous raves, and after two years of looking back on it, while he was proud of what he’d accomplished, he could see the weak spots in his work and was hoping to improve upon them with his second album. The hurt that lingered was just one of those implacable feelings.
Rolling his neck and feeling it crack, he pulled on his seatbelt and scrolled through his music library looking for something to listen to on the ride home. But after cycling through the entire library twice to no avail, he opened the text Jeffrey had sent him earlier, pressing play on the podcast episode that had been shared with him before turning the key in the ignition. His drive home was long but while he usually grew antsy watching the clock change as he sat bumper to bumper with other drivers, tonight his mind was occupied listening to the discussion echoing through his speakers.
It was an episode from one of Variety’s podcasts last year, shortly after his Forum concerts. Penny was a guest, chatting with the two guys who served as hosts. One of them sounded cool, and the other sounded like someone that he’d like to punch in the face if they ever crossed paths in real life. The episode was about his tour, specifically his shows in Los Angeles. It was weird listening to people talk about him like he was a commodity for consumption, and not like a human, a blatant reminder of why he typically abstained from engaging with anything like this.
Much to his surprise, Penny played the role of his supporter throughout the podcast, jumping to his defense when the Asshole, or whatever his name was, levied harsh words at Harry and his fans. He wouldn’t have expected that based on what she’d previously written. On the track, they shifted topics and Harry’s mind drifted off as the episode played on, ending moments before he arrived at his home. He turned off the car but made no effort to head inside. Instead, he picked up his phone and opened Instagram where he typed in Penny’s name.
Her account popped up right away. He scrolled over her page, unsurprised by what he found. Lots of pictures of concerts, sunsets on the beach, and admittedly delicious looking food. There weren’t many pictures of her but he found one that was relatively recent, posted last Christmas. She was smiling alongside some other women, probably friends based on the caption, and once again he felt something tugging inside of him when he looked at her. Next, he redownloaded the Twitter app, something he swore he would never do, and typed in Penny’s name, skimming through her Tweets. Jeff was right. She was frustratingly and irritatingly smart.
Closing out of Twitter, he navigated back to Instagram, finger hovering over the follow button. He hesitated, but after a minute his finger came down on the icon and it changed from blue to gray.
As he put his phone in his pocket and locked his car, across town Penny’s phone lit up with a notification. She missed the initial alert as she washed her face and pulled on the old college t-shirt she wore to bed most nights, but she finally noticed it when she went to set her alarm: Harry Styles followed you.
What the fuck was he trying to do? After laying into her the way he did at Tom’s house, completely unprovoked, the last thing she wanted to do was interact with him in the virtual world. She deleted the notification, plugged in her phone, and went to sleep.
When Harry woke up the next morning, the first thing he did was check his Instagram notifications. He scrolled past most of them – comments and following alerts from random fans and bots – but among all of the familiar amalgamations of usernames, Penny’s was nowhere to be found.
He laid his phone on his chest and stared at the ceiling. What game was she trying to play with him? And why did he feel so upset? The silence that surrounded him as he laid motionless was so loud.
When he finally found the motivation to get out of bed, he pulled on some jogging shorts and a tank and laced up his sneakers, grabbing headphones on his way out the door. He was hoping that a run might clear his head, but thoughts of Penny from the night before echoed alongside the sound of his feet on the pavement. Clarity hadn’t been found when he reached the five mile point, so he begrudgingly turned around to head home and shower. His mind was still swirling as he got cleaned up, and by the time he was dressed for the day and brewing coffee, he had a plan.
He pulled up his contacts and scrolled until he found the name he was looking for, pacing nervously while the phone rang.
“Hey,” the voice on the other line said. “Is everything OK?”
“Yeah, Tom. Sorry for the early morning call,” Harry said, twisting his fringe around his finger as he continued to do laps around the island. “Are you heading into the office today?”
“Seeing as it’s Saturday, I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Oh, shit,” Harry said, cringing when he took note of the early weekend hour. “I guess I lost track of time.”
“Not a problem,” Tom replied, stifling what seemed to be a yawn. “I’ll be there bright and early on Monday.
“Oh, nice. Would you maybe want to catch up and grab lunch?”
“That would be great, seeing as it’ll have been close to 48 hours since we last caught up,” Tom said a bit facetiously.
Harry said nothing trying to extract his fingers from the knot he’d twisted his fringe into. “Oh, yeah,” he mumbled after a moment.
“H, I’m kidding,” Tom said with a light laugh. “You can always swing by. Would you want to go to the bistro?”
“No, why don’t we pick somewhere more convenient to you. How about Loqui?” Harry suggested naming one of the restaurants that was in the campus that housed both the Full Stop and The Moment offices.
“Uh, yeah that’s fine. I’ll see you then. Have a good weekend, H.”
“You too, Tom.”
Harry hung up the phone and tried to figure out how he’d distract himself until Monday.
***
As Penny sat in her editor’s office Monday morning, she was trying to calculate when her next dental appointment was scheduled for and whether or not she’d be able to add on some x-rays to survey the damage done to her jaw after clenching it as hard as she had that morning.
Darren had finished reviewing her piece over the weekend, and had suggested they review his edits first thing, which wasn't the way she wanted to start the week.
“I think the biggest problem you have here is that this isn’t a story,” he said, scrolling through the copy on his laptop. “You only have one example of this phenomenon if we want to call it that and I honestly don’t think that TikTok is that important to the success of the song. In my professional career, we’ve seen plenty of songs do this. It’s nothing unusual.”
“But you’re missing the point,” Penny said, pushing back. “The whole idea is yes, this hasn’t happened before, but it’s the way forward. This is going to be the new version of Justin Bieber getting discovered on YouTube or Shawn Mendes on Vine.” She could feel herself getting angry and took a breath to calm herself. “You’re always telling us to be ahead of the story and that’s what I’m doing.”
“But this isn’t a story.”
Penny bit the inside of her cheek as she struggled to keep her cool. “OK, then, what do you suggest I do?”
Darren sighed. “Write it up like a regular chart recap and include a couple of lines about how it’s getting close to a record.”
“Because of TikTok?”
“No mention of TikTok. We don’t want to look like we don’t know what we’re talking about.”
“We have a chance to scoop Rolling Stone and Billboard and you’re just ignoring it.”
“Because it’s not a story. End of discussion. I’ve got a meeting to go to.”
Darren stood up and exited the office, leaving Penny stunned and furious. When she’d collected herself, she moved back to her desk in the newsroom. She spun around in her chair, any motivation to work gone.
Editors, specifically Skylar, were constantly telling them to push boundaries and find the stories no one was writing on yet. Unfortunately, they weren’t always on the same page, which led to a great deal of frustration when it came time to file a story. Penny could submit a story thinking it was Pullitzer-worthy, but be left questioning her entire life path after a single round of edits. Almost as if she could sense the tension brewing, Chloe poked her head over top of the divider that separated their desks.
“I think you need coffee. Or a pastry. Or lunch. Basically you just need to not be in this office right now, so we’re going for a walk.”
Penny begrudgingly grabbed her purse and ID and headed towards the exit, close behind Chloe, who was listing off restaurant options.
“Loqui,” Penny eventually said, stopping the list. “I’m in the mood for some spice.”
After walking a few blocks they found themselves at the restaurant, scanning the menu above the cash register. They ordered – a beef plate for Chloe and chicken plate for Penny – and had stood off to the side waiting for their respective numbers to be called, when they were interrupted.
“So we go years without seeing each other and then all of a sudden it’s three times in one week?” Tom called from behind a partition.
“Oh my God,” Penny said, laughing with actual mirth for the first time all day. “What are the odds?”
“Nice to see you again,” Chloe added.
“Are you all dining in?” Tom asked, eyes shifting between the two women.
“Yeah,” Chloe chimed in. “Needed to get out of the office for a little while.”
“I feel that,” Tom replied. “You’re welcome to join us.”
Penny looked at Chloe, who nodded her agreement. Neither woman asked who “us” was.
Their numbers were called and when they’d collected their food they slid into the booth, leaving space around the plate of veggie tacos that had been placed in front of an empty chair.
“How’s your week shaping up?” Chloe asked Tom.
He shrugged. “Mondays are always rough, but it’s all downhill from here.”
“What is management like? Do you have a routine?” Chloe continued. “Like with reporting, there’s a certain cadence with different deadlines and interviews. Is there a similar thing for you all?”
“Sort of. If we’re on tour a lot of people have a routine they like to stick to. When we’re in the office, it’s a little less structured. Depends on what each client is working on.”
Penny kept her eyes on her plate, her thoughts still focused on her earlier conversation with Darren. Eyes on the floor, she saw the white loafers and yellow socks before the face of the man they belonged to.
“You’re out to lunch with Tom?” Penny asked in disbelief when her eyes met Harry’s.
“Yeah. I didn’t think there’d be a problem with that,” he mumbled as he sat in front of the plate.
“I’m Chloe. I don’t think we’ve met,” Chloe interjected helpfully.
“Harry,” Harry returned, extending his hand.
Penny stared daggers at him, but Harry refused to look at her. Penny knew he was observing her though, feeling his eyes burning into her whenever she looked away. Neither of them spoke, leaving Tom and Chloe to fill the silence with banal conversation.
As they chattered on, Penny continued to feel the heat of Harry’s glare on her.
“Can I help you?” she finally snapped.
“What?” he shot back.
“If you have something to say, just fucking say it.”
“I’ve got nothing to say,” he said, spooning some mushrooms and peppers into his mouth.
“Really? Because it looks like you’ve got something on your mind.”
“OK, then,” Harry shot back, putting his spoon down next to his plate. “Why’d you give my album such a shit review?”
“Why do you care?”
“Because I do!”
“That’s a great argument,” Penny said, rolling her eyes.
“Well how about this,” Harry said, turning to face her. “I’m trying to figure out how someone who supposedly loves music and everything it stands for can be such a hater.”
“A hater?” Penny could feel the prickly sensation behind her eyes that meant tears were just moments away. “I’m sorry. The 90s called and they want their slang back.”
“Yeah, all of your reviews are just so…mean. It’s like you forget there’s someone behind that album.”
“Almost like forgetting there’s a person behind the review?”
“Don’t twist my words like that.”
“I’m not. I’m just saying it’s a two way street.”
“All you are is a second-rate journalist who isn’t good enough to work for a legitimate publication, so instead of saying things that actually matter, you just share your shitty takes to try to get Twitter clout.”
Penny could feel her lips tremble, but she was determined to not give Harry the satisfaction of seeing her cry. “You know, it’s generally frowned upon to harass a journalist in a public setting just because you don’t care for what they have to say.” She sniffed and much to her chagrin, she could feel her eyes getting wet. “But now you’ve got me crying in a restaurant so I hope you’re satisfied.” She grabbed her purse, leaving her food nearly untouched on the table. “I’ll see you back at the office, Chloe.”
Chloe and Tom’s eyes followed her as she walked out of the restaurant. Harry kept his eyes locked on his plate.
“I should probably check on her,” Chloe said after a moment.
“That might be for the best,” Tom said. “Let me grab a box. You can take her her food.”
Chloe picked up her own bag and leftovers, balancing them alongside Penny’s. “Wish this could have been longer but…” she trailed off as Tom nodded. She looked at Harry. “I’m not entirely sure what this is about but I’ve never met anyone who loves music more than Penny, so whatever assumptions you have about her, she’s not a ‘hater.’ She’s also not second-rate. She’s fucking brilliant, but maybe you’re just too dumb to see that.” She turned on her heel and walked out of the restaurant.
Harry picked up his spoon and started pushing the remaining vegetables and bits of tortilla around on his plate. The air was heavy with the unspoken questions on Tom’s tongue. “Go ahead and say it,” Harry said after a moment.
“Is there something going on with you?” Tom asked, point blank. “You’ve been kind of moody lately and I’m here if you want to talk.”
Harry looked up at him. “That wasn’t what I was expecting you to say.”
“Oh don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed that you yelled at my friend like that, but whatever issues you all have it’s not my business and I don’t want to get in the middle of it.”
“Sorry,” Harry said, a little more firmly. “I just – I haven’t been feeling great and I’m sure this is just a byproduct of whatever that is.”
“Studio stress?”
“Yeah, that,” Harry said, taking the out he was handed.
“Well, you can always talk to me, man. Just gotta let me know that something’s going on.”
Harry nodded and focused on finishing his lunch.
***
Back in the newsroom, Penny picked at the remnants of her lunch that Chloe had deposited on her desk, refreshing the feeds in her RSS reader while she waited on Darren’s edits. When he Slacked her that he was through, she opened the Google Doc to find that he had completely rewritten it. Ordinarily, she would have fought back, challenging him on everything down to the placement of commas, but she felt too drained after her earlier bout with him and the subsequent battle with Harry.
She signed off on the two rounds of edits as quickly as she could and returned to refreshing her browser.
“Are you ready to talk?” Chloe asked, poking her head over the frosted glass between them.
Penny shrugged. “Not much to discuss. I suck at doing my job. Darren agrees! Harry agrees! So does Walt from who the hell knows! I should just quit while I’m ahead.”
“I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “Who is Walt and how does he factor into this equation?”
“Just some jerk on Twitter who also thinks I can’t write for shit.”
“Fifteen minutes,” Chloe said. “That’s how much time you have left to wallow. After that, you have to get up, look in the mirror, and realize that you are a bad bitch who deserves this job more than anyone.”
“I deserve twenty minutes,” Penny shot back. “But thank you for the words of encouragement. I know I just need to move on, but it’s hard to do that when it feels like this happens every fucking day just because Darren thinks I’m an idiot.”
“I know, Pen, but you just have to hang in there.” Chloe looked around before leaning in closer. “I heard a rumor that Darren’s days are numbered so things may be looking up for you.”
“Seriously?” The long running joke of the newsroom was that Darren had witnessed the CEO of the company hit someone with his car and that’s how he managed to land the job and stay gainfully employed for as long as he had.
“You didn’t hear it from me,” Chloe said, sinking back into her desk chair.
On slow days like this one, Penny typically filled her afternoon with source calls and research for future stories but with her motivation subzero, she made her way to the parking garage at 5pm on the dot, ready for a night of wine, takeout, and Friends reruns.
When she reached her car, she was surprised to find Tom there.
“Hey…” she said slowly.
“Hey, I didn’t want to miss you.”
“Should I be worried?” she asked jokingly. “I run into you after years of silence and a week later you’re waiting for me at my car?”
“I promise I’m not following you,” Tom said with a laugh. “I just had to tell you…I know this means nothing coming from me, but Harry isn’t usually like that.”
Penny sighed. “I don’t care, Tom. It’s been a day and I’d rather just move on to prepare for tomorrow’s battles.”
“I know, but it’s important to me that you know the truth.”
“Trying to make sure I don’t start a nasty rumor about your client?”
“No, just trying to make sure you don’t have the wrong idea about a great guy.”
“Great guy?” Penny’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “Are you trying to set me up with him now? Because I’m not interested.”
“No,” Tom huffed, rolling his eyes. “Although there could be something there…”
“Nope, not happening,” Penny said.
“Seriously,” Tom said, the earnestness returning to his eyes. “Harry’s a good guy and I think under the right circumstances you all would actually get along.”
“Tom, even if we were the last people on Earth tasked with repopulating the planet, I’d rather let the human race go extinct than willingly spend time with Harry Styles.”
“Wow, that’s uh, harsh and vivid,” Tom said, scratching the back of his neck. “You just need to understand that he’s under a lot of pressure with the new album.”
“New album?” That caught Penny’s attention.
“Shit!” Tom exclaimed, realizing the magnitude of what he’d shared. “That’s entirely off the record. I’m serious, Pen!”
“Woodward and Bernstein had Deep Throat telling them government secrets in a garage, and I have Tom Skoglund blabbing album releases next to my decrepit Toyota…does this mean my Pulitzer is on the way.”
“I mean it, Penny. I could get in a lot of trouble.”
“It’s fine, Tom. I’m not going to tell anyone. I’ll see you later.”
Tom nodded and headed back to the Full Stop office as Penny climbed into her car and pulled out of the garage.
Later that night after two glasses of wine and about 10 episodes of Friends, Penny decided to sign into her work email. She told herself that she wouldn’t check work emails off the clock, but she always gave into the temptation. She scrolled past the usual news alerts and reader feedback until one subject line stopped her cold.
“An Apology.”
She opened it before she realized what she was doing.
Hi Penny, the email began
It’s Harry. I’d like to apologize for the way I acted at Tom’s party the other night, as well as what I said in the restaurant earlier today. You’re right – it was entirely inappropriate for me to behave that way, and I’m sincerely sorry for any hurt or hard feelings that may have come about on your end as a result.
I just wanted to get this off my chest and conscience.
Hope your evening is treating you well.
All the best,
Harry
Penny was speechless, staring at her phone as Ross Geller’s cries of “We were on a break!” and the subsequent laugh track echoed in her empty apartment.
Harry had apologized.
When she recovered, her first instinct was to text Tom, attaching a screenshot of the email.
Did you put him up to this? she asked.
No, came Tom’s swift reply. See what I mean though? Not a bad guy.
Penny reread the email once, twice, three times, taking in the way he’d introduced himself, but left off his last name. The way his writing was devoid of exclamation points. The effort finding her address and sending the email entailed.
She doubted he’d got it from Tom, seeing as Tom had no clue about the message, which meant he’d either pulled it from The Moment’s website or her Twitter bio. Either option meant he’d taken the time to look her up, typing her name into the search bar to find her profile. Knowing that Harry had searched for her specifically made her feel some type of way. She wasn’t sure what.
She didn’t like Harry Styles, but maybe he wasn’t as horrible as she thought.
***
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