When Harry Met Luna

The following morning, I found myself sitting in bed, hungry and watching old re-runs of The Office. I was too much of a wuss to go downstairs and bump into Bimbo Beth but honestly, the last thing I wanted to do was make awkward small talk.

My stomach howled angrily in response.

I refused to go anywhere near my computer or phone, knowing there were probably hundreds of messages from my more than confused friends back in California. Or worse, messages from Derek. It’s difficult to keep a firm grasp on my self-control because as always, my curiosity gets the best of me. I needed to give myself time to heal before explaining to everyone why I left. Or maybe they already knew. Derek has the same group of friends I do and knowing him, he probably told them all about it. I doubt he made himself look bad and fabricated the story too.

I sighed and pulled my bare legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my cold ankles. I’ve been relaying every single thing I did or said to Derek all morning, trying to figure out where I went wrong. I was drawing up a blank. I couldn’t figure out what I did that resulted in him going off with someone else. Only last week, literally just five days ago, he was sleeping over at my apartment, whispering those three words that make every girl’s dream a reality. Boy, was I a damn fool.

Before I could dissect the past two years of my life anymore, there was a light tap on my bedroom door. Dad pushed the door open with his foot and walked in with a tray full of breakfast food and coffee.

“Hiya love.” He greeted me warmly. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. I wasn’t entirely sure what was more shocking: seeing my dad in his Burberry pajamas past 10 am or that he was even home altogether. Despite it being Saturday morning, my father was almost always at work until at least 4pm and if he wasn’t there, he was at a work-related brunch or event.

This was exceedingly peculiar.

“Mornin’” I said quietly, still feeling uneasy about how our conversation went last night.

“Beth made breakfast. We thought you might be a bit hungry.” He set the tray legs on the bed before taking a seat next to it. “It’s your favorite.”

I eyed the three waffles covered in syrup wearily. “Thanks.”

He cleared his throat. “Listen, I know you’re upset about all this. It’s a lot to take on in such short notice but I’m happy. We’re happy.”

“How old is she anyways?”

“She’ll be thirty-one in March.”

“Dad!” I exclaimed, throwing my head back against the pillow for emphasis. “She’s at least twenty years younger than you!!”

He rolled his eyes at me. “Come on, Luna. No one cares about that nowadays. Age is just a number.”

“You know what? The last time I heard that was from a filthy hobo sitting on the sidewalk in West Hollywood after he started whistling at me.” I scoffed. “So you can just put that in your pipe and smoke it.”

He gave me a pointed look. “Come on, don’t be daft.”

“It’s true!”

“Regardless, Luna,” He pushed the tray towards me. I could feel my stomach getting antsy because the scent coming off those steaming hot waffles were mouthwatering but I was trying to be stubborn. “She’s a really lovely person. Give her a chance, would yeah?”

I sighed heavily. “I’m just, you know, worried.”

“What about?”

How could I word this correctly. I thought I met the love of my life two years ago and look where that left me. My dad, I presume, met this lass in the past year and is already engaged to her. How could I not be a pessimist about them being in love?

Also, she sucked and was probably marrying him for the money.

“Just like...I don’t know. Maybe you’re both getting into this a bit too soon?” I replied. “How long do you even plan on being engaged?”

“We want the wedding to be in early August. Ye know, when it’s all lovely outside and such.” He smiled to himself, clearly enjoying the idea of getting married sooner rather than later.

I fell back on my plush pillows and huffed. I was so 300% done with this conversation.

“Ah come on now Luna, don’t be like that.” He stood up again and pointed at the tray. “Now, hurry up and eat up those waffles. I’m taking you to the offices to finish signing up the paperwork.”

“Paperwork?”

“For the internship!” My dad was grinning now. “You start Monday.”

Ah, yes. The well anticipated internship. How could I forget?



The Columbia Records building stood proudly right in the heart of London. It towered over most buildings in this area and was also the most intimidating with it’s tinted windows and black detailed exterior. I sometimes still couldn’t believe my dad was President of the Britain branch and has been for the past thirty years. This company will always be his number one priority and the most important thing in his life even though my father would never admit to this. I’ve been aware of it for the past fifteen years. I hope Bimbo Beth could handle it.

I stumbled awkwardly behind my father’s powerful stature as we walked into his building that Saturday morning. Two doormen dressed in black suits, were already waiting to open the doors for him with their white gloved hands grasping the gold handles. He gave them a stern nod and fixed the blue pocket square sitting in the jacket of his three piece business suit as he strode inside. I, on the other hand, felt like I didn’t give off the same aura as my dad. I wandered inside, suddenly feeling like my old Led Zeppelin shirt and high waisted skinny jeans combo was no longer acceptable.

A woman was already jogging to my fathers side while we walked towards the elevators in the lobby. She was at least half my size, had her red hair pinned tightly into a bun and noticeably struggled to keep up with my dad’s quick pace. Even I was struggling but he showed no signs of slowing down.

“What’s on the agenda, Penny?” He asked as we entered the elevator. I was the first one to enter the elevator so I was quickly pushed to the back and disregarded as both my father and Penny, who I now assumed to be his assistant, turned their rears to me as they looked over the open folder in Penny’s hands.

“Cancelled your last two meetings with Sony and the A&R department in New York City.” She was so out of breath, I was sure she had ran a mile or two before meeting us in the Lobby. I tried to peak over my dad’s shoulders to see what they were looking at but gave up, soon realizing that he was way too tall to look over. “I have your papers for Luna here and highlighted where she needs to sign and date. Then you have these legal documents to sign for Adele’s recent single to be used in a Dorito’s commercial that will be airing in South Korea-”

The elevator doors binged open and both my father and Penny shot out. By the time I had even stepped foot out of the elevator, they were already a good twenty feet away from me. Had they seriously forgotten about me already?

I skipped every couple of steps to try and catch up with them. The top floor was where all the ‘head honchos’ of the company were situated, meaning it was also the most intimidating floor in the whole building. Even when I lived here permanently, I didn’t frequent the halls on the fortieth floor. It was a maze of intense interior that felt cold, haunting and powerful, making me feel infinitely small.

“Luna, no dawdling please. We have a lot to do.” My dad shouted over his shoulder.

I rolled my eyes and broke into a run to catch up to him and Penny.

His personal office was similar to his office back home except five times wider and longer. The ceilings were high, there was a whole bar full of spirits and Crystal glasses and even a sitting area with a massive flat screen tv and stereo system. While he looked over the paperwork at his desk, I dropped my messenger bag into one of the plush leather armchairs and waited for further instructions.

“Penny get me a coffee, will you?” It came out as a question but both Penny and I knew it was an order. “Black, two sugars. Make sure it’s the kind I like and not that instant horse shit.”

“Yes, Mr. Monet.” She made her way towards the door but stopped when she got to me. “Anything for you, Miss. Monet?”

“Uh just water, thanks.” I responded with a small smile, hoping to get the point across that I wasn’t nearly as menacing as my father. Penny returned the smile and left without a sound. I waited for her to close the door completely shut before I spoke to my dad. “Do you always have to sound so harsh?”

He was already sitting at his main desk, his reading specs sitting on the bridge of his nose. The man was already so caught up in work mode that I was 99 percent sure he forgot I was still standing in his office.

I was the luckiest daughter in the world.

“Hmm?” He only glanced up at me for a second to register what I asked before going back to the paperwork. “Oh, they’re used to it.”

“They’re all scared of you.” I stated, walking over to the large windows. Of course the view was even better than the one back at our apartment. “Pretty sure I saw a guy hide in the nearest office when he saw us walking down that hallway a few seconds ago.”

“Ah, a bit of fright doesn’t hurt anyone, Luna.” He mumbled, not taking his eyes off the paperwork. “Here, sign this. You’ll be interning in the A&R department under Janet.”

“A and R?” I repeated, plopping into the chair facing his desk. He handed me the papers with a pen.

“Artist and Repertoire. Have I not taught you anything?” He shook his head. “It’ll be a fun job. You get to assist our current talent, help find new talent, organize company events, faxing, designing promotional mail, stuff like that.”

“Oh, joy.” I said sarcastically.

There’s a reason why I haven’t agreed to do an internship at Columbia Records. It was all just going to be bitch work for stuck up musicians. I also knew that agreeing to this would instantly gain me a couple of enemies, seeing as people will assume I won’t take my tasks seriously since I was presumably favored by the President of the company. That would totally not be the case, however. I needed something, anything, to keep me occupied this summer. I needed to be distracted from the disturbing thoughts that could easily ruin all of me if I succumb to them. And if that meant I had to clean toilets of tour buses or pick up someone’s dry-cleaning, then so be it.

When I pushed the sighed papers back to my dad, he grinned. I knew, this was the proudest moment in history for him. I was beginning to wonder if this had been his plan all along so I could one day, rule this empire after he’s retired.

No chance.

“Now!” My dad boomed, standing up and stapling the papers together. “Your first order of business as an intern here at Columbia Records will be to go down to the A&R department and hand the main secretary this paperwork to make it official.”

I took the papers from him. “Which is where?”

“Ha!” He clapped his hands. “An ordinary intern does not usually have access to the President of the company, therefore I shall not tell you.”

I gave my dad an ‘are you fucking kidding me’ look. “Are you serious?”

“See to it as an adventure!” My dad could barely contain his excitement. The amount of euphoria in his facial expression had almost led me to believe that he would break out in song. “Go on!”

I rolled my eyes and slowly made my way towards the door. “Can you at least give me a hint-”

“Out!”



This was going to be one long Saturday afternoon.

I ignored the stares that followed me down the hallway and into the elevator. When I got onto the lift, I looked at the buttons that ranged from 1-40. While I contemplated which floor to start with, the doors of the elevator were already closing so I panicked and pressed a random number, resulting in floor 15.

And so the search began. I managed to land on the Legal Department floor, the Promotion departments and even the Art Department but could not, for the life of me, find the A&R department. I had even worked up enough courage to ask someone working on the twentieth floor if they knew where the A & R department was, to which they replied with “What?”

I earned myself quite a few dirty looks from the Record Label Liaison department as I groaned loudly on my way back to the main elevators. I was on the brink of completely giving up. Sometime between the 22nd and 25th floor, I had let out another aggressive roar of annoyance and even shook my fists to the ceilings, obviously cursing my father who was just having a fucking ball on the 40th floor.

When I entered the elevator for what felt like the hundredth time, I leaned against the wall of the compartment and sighed in defeat. I was going to try one more floor and if it wasn’t the A&R floor, I was going to go back to my dad’s office and preform a classic Luna Monet tantrum.

I pressed the number 19 button and closed my eyes as I waited for the doors to close.

When the doors opened to the nineteenth floor, the first thing I noticed was how quiet it was. I slowly stepped out and looked in both directions. Nothing. Not even a secretary or group of employees dressed in suits. I was only greeted by one long empty hallway full of closed doors. This was definitely not the A & R department.

I should have hopped back on the elevator immediately but seeing as my curiosity got the best of me, I began walking down the hallway to the left. My black ballet flats managed to make an echo as I wandered down the black tile. When I arrived at the first door, the words ‘STUDIO ONE’ were carved into it. I continued walking and began to realize that all the doors lead to different studios. So, was this where the musicians practiced and recorded demos? I was never aware that they could record in the building itself.

I noticed that there was something different about the fifth door that read ‘STUDIO #5’ The bulb above the doorway was bright red. I assumed this meant that someone was in there so obviously, I soundlessly placed my ear against the door to see if I could hear anything. Unfortunately, the door was so beyond soundproofed that all I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat. I exhaled loudly and pulled away, deciding it was a good idea to retreat back to my father with the damn papers. I had been here for less than an hour and I was already screwing up. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this whole record labe-

I paused, noticing a door on the other side of the hallway was completely open and unoccupied. Feeling even more intrigued, I looked inside and smirked. It was a room full of instruments. I felt my fingertips tingle with delight when my eyes landed on a beautiful grand piano sitting near the wall. One song or two couldn’t hurt, right? And it’s not like I could get in trouble for trespassing since I was technically an employee here now, right?

Right.

I tossed the stack of papers on the nearby table and dropped into the wonderful cushioned stool in front of the piano. I sat up straight, cracked my knuckles and flexed my fingers before placing them on the shiny white keys. I bit my lip and absentmindedly looked around the room as I thought about what song to play. The first song that came to mind was Moon River so I placed my fingers on the correct chords and began playing. I knew this particular song frontwards, backwards, and upside down.

I delicately hit the keys and slid my fingers effortlessly between chords, getting that sudden piano-playing high. Whatever stress I had been feeling 5 minutes ago had unexpectedly vanished and I felt calm once again. I could feel the smile touch my lips as I closed my eyes and continued to play.

I was just about to hit the final notes of the song when I heard it. I didn’t even sense a presence of another human being in the room, but he had apparently been there long enough to feel the need to speak out loud.

“Wow, you’re amazing!”

I gasped, immediately pressing the wrong piano key as I retreated my hands quickly. I whipped around in the stool to see who the voice had belonged to.

The first thing I noticed was the hair. In fact, it was kinda hard to look away from. The big brown curls on top of his head were messy and pushed lazily to the side like he’d just rolled out of bed or something. My eyes then focused on the intruder’s face, and he was smiling.

“Why’d you stop?” He asked.

I looked from the piano keys and then back to the guy. “I, um, you startled me.”

“You play beautifully.” He had now walked into the room and towards the piano. Uninvitedly, may I add. “Are you a new singer they signed? I haven’t seen you ‘round here before.”

Oh, this is awkward. Or maybe it wasn’t and I was just being socially awkward. I couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable with his forwardness. He was acting like we’d met before. And it definitely didn’t help that this guy was actually pretty good looking.

“Where did you even come from?” I avoided his question tactfully.

“Studio five.” He pointed his thumb in the direction behind him. “Recording new tunes with the lads but I was dying for a wee.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Charming.”

“What’s your name, then?” He was leaning on the piano very casually. “Mine’s Harry.”

“Uhh-” I stood up abruptly, causing the stool to make an unpleasant screech against the tile. “I have to go.”

“That’s not a name?” His eyes followed me as I stumbled past a guitar on it’s stand as I made a grab for the papers I left on the table. “Go on, tell me your name!”

“No really, I have to go. I shouldn’t even-” I was attempting to speak and walk backwards at the same time, resulting in my back hitting the frame of the doorway quite painfully. I winced. “I just uh-bye!”

I swiveled around and practically made a run for the elevators. I nervously rubbed my forehead as it just dawned on me how incredibly gawky and bizarre I acted towards that guy. I don’t recall ever having an issue with talking to people I just met. In fact, I thought I was pretty good at meeting new people. I liked meeting new people. I mean, I moved out to Los Angeles by myself for Christ sakes. But that?

That was just weird.

With a sore back and a newfound disheveled confidence, I jammed the elevator button repeatedly until the doors opened. I pressed the ground floor button, stepped back and crossed my arms. There was an uneasy feeling being created in my stomach as the loft jerked downwards. I didn’t feel like myself. I felt empty, hollow, pointless and I only had one person to blame for this unfortunate feeling: Derek fucking Sanders.

Once the doors opened, I practically threw the papers at the secretary by the door and almost knocked out one of the doormen as I desperately pushed my way out of that damn building. I began patting my hair down and cupping my warm cheeks, hoping my cold hands would return them to their natural pale pink. I was trying so desperately hard to push away the feeling of loneliness and heartbreak that had just overwhelmingly took over.

I didn’t know how long I kept walking for because by the third or fourth block, the signs on the corner were blurred from my vision. I wiped away at the tears angrily and kept pushing past tourists who got in my way.

This was definitely not my finest moment.