When Harry Met Luna

This weekend sucked.

I mean, really sucked.

I spent the majority of Saturday afternoon through Sunday morning under the covers and pillows of my bed. I didn’t want to do anything. It was physically impossible to get out of bed and I had the whole stupid unrequited love scenario to blame for it. It was turning me into some sort of dismal hermit.

Finally on Sunday afternoon, I managed to get my feet out of bed and moving. I aimlessly wondered around the apartment in my sweat pants and old Victoria Secret jumper while my father and Bimbo Beth were at some scholarly lunch thing.

I managed to mosey my way into the Sunroom with a cup of English breakfast tea, hoping the endless shelves of books and overall cozy atmosphere would inspire me to do something useful. I ended up slumping over the piano, leaning my forehead against the music sheet rack as I idly pressed random keys. I had already written several miserable piano pieces in my head after Derek broke up with me. It helped to avoid the disastrous thought process of accusing myself for the relationship going to shit by visualizing placing piano notes onto the blank music sheets. It was so easy for me to hear the music in my head while I wrote it out in my memory. Sadly, it made me cry every time I imagined the tune so I chose not to play it in real life.

So now it was Monday morning and it was officially my first day as an intern at Columbia Records. I decided to wear a black button down shirt with embroidery on the collar, tucked into my black high-waisted skinny pants and black flats. I even made enough effort to straighten my untamed, brown curls and stuck a black headband over my long, overgrown bangs. I strategically side-stepped an awkward encounter with Beth in the kitchen by skipping breakfast and politely asking Roger to stop at a McDonalds drive-thru before going to work.

“Yo Roger,” I scooted up in my seat to lean on the empty passenger seat in front of me. “Real talk. What do we think of Beth?”

“‘Yo’?” Roger had repeated me and gave me a look in the rear-view mirror. “‘Real talk’? Don’t tell me you speak like the Americans now.”

I rolled my eyes in response.

“I have no complaints about Ms. Brent.” Roger finally answered my question. “She means well, and I can tell she likes your father for him, and not just for his money.”

I slowly sat back in my seat, contemplating this. “I think she fantasizes about being on the next ‘Housewives of London’ reality tv show or something. I mean, have you seen what she wears, Roger? Bloody hell.”

Roger had just pulled up behind the long line of cars waiting to order breakfast. “Ai, give her a chance, Ms. Monet. She’s kind hearted, even if her fashion choices are a little...tawdry, if that isn’t too bold to say.”

We shared a look in his rearview mirror. I grinned. “Definitely not too bold to say, Roger, not at all.”

I successfully managed to stuff a whole McMuffin sandwich into my mouth and swallow it right before Roger pulled up to the front of Columbia Records. I was technically already ten minutes late, which I knew wouldn’t fly well with my dad.

I jumped out of the car, whipped the crumbs off my shirt and made a dash for the lobby.

When I made it to the twenty-sixth floor, which I later found out to be the actual A & R floor after prying it out of my dad yesterday, I found a quiet looking girl with big blue eyes and a tall woman waiting for me by the elevators, looking exceedingly pissed.

“I take it you’re Luna, then?” The tall lady towered over me, giving me a once over with disapproving eyes. “Not a good start to an internship when you’re late. Mallory here, was able to be here twenty minutes early.”

I soundlessly sipped on my large sweet iced-tea from McDonalds, hoping she didn’t expect me to apologize to her.

I looked over at the other girl that I assumed was Mallory. She had long jet-black hair with an electric blue strand hiding behind her right ear which consequently enough, complimented her blue eyes greatly. Dad never mentioned I would be working with another intern.

“Right.” The women sighed angrily and turned on her heel. “This way, then.”

Mallory and myself followed her quickly. The environment on this floor felt different compared to the previous floors I’ve visited in this building. The offices weren’t closed in entirely and the air felt lighter. There were rows of people working on their computers while others were freely gathering around other employee’s desks to have a casual conversation. I could even hear the radio being played softly in the background. The overall surroundings appeared to be a lot friendlier here even though my new boss’s attitude suggested otherwise.

She led us to an empty room that she briefly explained was used for weekly meetings. I noticed on the lengthy table, there were stacks of envelopes, cards and pens waiting.

Just as I expected: bitch work.

“Now, if you could both take a seat and I’ll explain your duties for the day.” She gestured towards the leather office chairs which we both obliged quietly. “The first half of this internship will be mostly spent on helping us organize the annual 360 Sound event that we’ll be hosting at The Dorchester next month. It’s basically a fancy occasion to celebrate our client’s success in the past year and to celebrate new clients we just signed.”

While she started to talk about the history of the company, I sat back against my chair and sipped on my drink gingerly, only half listening to her narrative my dad’s successes. I knew more about the history of this company than this new boss lady of mine, that’s for sure. My dad used it as my bedtime story when I was a little kid for Godsakes.

“These are all the invites that need to be sent out today.” She motioned towards the blank envelopes and cards. She picked up a thick packet and threw it at the table for me to pick up. “Those are all the addresses they need to be sent to. Stamps are over there. I’ll come to check on you lot in an hour or so.”

And with that, she was out the door and already barking orders at somebody else on the floor.

I pushed my hair behind my shoulders with the backside of my hand as I began to pull out the blank envelopes from the boxes.

“Janet really doesn’t like you.” Mallory finally spoke after several minutes of watching me organize the invitations & envelopes into separate piles. “She was complainin’ about you and something about the President of the company not being allowed to do this. Oh, I don’t know. She wouldn’t shut up about it though. Especially because you were late too.”

For the past ten minutes, I was under the impression that this girl was never going to open her mouth. Now, she couldn’t stop talking. I barely had a second to respond back.

“Was that Janet?” I pointed my eyes at the door. She nodded quickly.

“My dad told me she was a real stick up the arse.” I said simply, pulling out a wad of invitations from the other box. “That was the only reason he hired her.”

“Your dad works here, then?” She asked, now replicating the same action as me by reaching into the envelope box and making a pile for herself.

“He’s...the president.”

“Oh cool. Of the A & R department?” She was carefully writing names on all the invitations.

“Of the company.”

That made her look up. At first, when she was looking at me with disbelief, I thought she was judging me as harshly as Janet once did the minute I walked out of the elevator. Instead, this girl offered me a wide grin.
“That is actually amazing. No wonder Janet was raging. What’s with the whole intern bit, then? Doubt your father would find difficulty getting you a stable job here.”

“That’s not what I’m looking for, actually.” I replied honestly. “I wanted something to keep me busy for the summer.”

“Why’s that?” Man, this girl had a lot of questions.

I nervously laughed. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“Well what’re yeh waiting for, then?” She replied cheerfully, pulling at another invitation. “We’ve got all morning!”

Her enthusiasm earned a chuckle from me. It was easy to see that she was a social butterfly. And I have no idea what it was about this girl that made me want to do it, but I decided to tell her my story. I told her about moving to LA, dating Derek Sanders, getting cheated on, coming back to London and now dealing with my father’s new fiance. Strangely enough, it felt good talking about it out loud.

“Wow.” She looked at me with wide eyes. “How are you not checked into a mental ward? I’d be right bonkers if I were in your position.”

“Oh, I’m bonkers alright.” I agreed, licking an envelope shut and tossed it to the finished pile. “I’m just good at hiding it.”

After my whole pitch about my pathetic life, Mallory easily began talking about herself and how she only took this internship last minute because she didn’t get any of the fashion magazine internships she applied for. Within the forty-five minutes of her talking, I also found out that she just started dating a guy named William, she loved drinking green tea with honey, loathed the Kardashians and had a bigger shoe collection than any other fashion blogger I have ever come across on the internet. I could tell, rather quickly, that I was going to like Mallory a lot.

When we finally finished doing the two hundred invitations, it was already ten past twelve in the afternoon, so Janet gave us an hour for lunch. I attempted to continue being social by asking Mallory if she wanted to go to the bakery down the street for lunch but she already made plans with her boyfriend. I even went as far as asking my dad’s assistant, Penny, if he was free for lunch. Of course, knowing my father, he had taken the helicopter to Bristol - did I mention theres a helicopter pad on the roof of this building? And that we even owned a helicopter? - and wouldn’t be back until later this evening. I sighed and took my sorry ass to the bakery by myself.

I swung my satchel bag back and forth with a bottle of apple juice in one hand and a fresh croissant in the other. I didn’t realize how lovely the weather was until I started walking back to the Record building. The sun was partially hidden behind a fluffy cloud, but the skies were a royal blue and there was no way I was about to pass up the opportunity to sit outside during a sunny day in London, England. 

I made a bee line for Primrose Hill park which was only a block away from me. The grass was lush and the oak trees towered above me as I strolled through the path. I managed to spot an empty park bench under an English Elm tree and gratefully took a seat. The park was relatively quiet, save for the occasional runner or dog-walker that passed me. I welcomed the cool breeze that fluttered past me, delicately picking up a number of strands of my hair. This was the perfect opportunity to draw in my Moleskine.

I pulled out my sketchbook and pencil from my bag, while balancing the half-eaten croissant on my lap.

I wasn’t a good drawer, by any means, but it was something I loved doing whenever I had the chance. I loved doodling mostly, whether it be a cat, a person’s face or interesting architecture I saw earlier that day. I started drawing when I was younger because I was terrible with putting my feelings into words but drawing it out, however, was a piece of cake.

I tapped the blank new page with the tip of my pencil, wondering what I should draw. I looked around, hoping to be inspired by anything in my surroundings.

Boy, was that a mistake.

I saw him walking by himself, hands stuffed in the front pockets of his dark green bomber jacket and his eyes covered by Ray-Ban sunglasses. I inwardly gasped, now desperately looking around me to find an escape route. It was too late of course, because by the time I had twisted my body awkwardly towards the left armrest of the bench, holding my sketchbook up to my face, he had already spotted me.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Piano girl.”

I didn’t need to look at him to know that he was smirking. Oddly enough, it kind of pissed me off. And piano girl? Was he trying to get a black eye?

I slammed my sketchbook shut and glared up at Harry.

After I ran into him on Saturday- or, shall I say, he ran into me - I went home and recounted the conversation I had with him. I remembered him saying something about recording music with ‘the lads’ so letting my natural spirit of inquiry take its course, I opened up my dusty laptop and did a quick google search. Within ten minutes, I found out that he was Harry Styles, he was 1/5th of the pop group ‘One Direction’ and was not only the UK’s new wonder child, but the entire world’s.

And he was also the number one pick for just about any hungry female celebrity that was desperate enough for a quick shag (according to tabloids, anyways).

“No, you have me mistaken for someone else.” I hoped that my oversized sunglasses and straighter hair could possibly vouch for my good for nothing lie but Harry wasn’t buying it.

“No, you’re definitely piano girl.” He was grinning now, making it quite clear he wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. “I’d recognize that scowl from anywhere.”

“Hey! I wasn’t scowling!” I exclaimed bitterly.

“Why did you run away so quickly the other day?” Harry’s constant grinning was starting to make my own cheeks ache so I looked away, hoping the blush creeping up my neck wasn’t too obvious. Why the hell did he care anyways? “Were you embarrassed?”

I whipped back to look at him again. “No. I was late for something.”

“Oh you were late for something?” I guess because I was actually responding to his idiotic questions, he decided this was an actual conversation and took it upon himself to join me on the bench. “What were you late for? A very important date?”

I slowly pushed my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose to display the pointed look I was giving him. Why he felt it would be ‘adorable’ to quote the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, was beyond me. “Really?”

“I don’t know your life, Cinderella.”

“Okay, can you stop with all the names?” I was frustrated now, and Harry was being awfully annoying. “And by the way, Cinderella was the one with the shoe at midnight, not the one who fell down the rabbit hole.”

Like honestly, my great grandfather could have gotten that right and he was partially blind.

“I could stop if you actually gave me your name.” Placing his left ankle on his right knee, he rested his hand on his thigh as he patiently waited for me to respond. All I wanted to do was eat my croissant in peace. Was that so much to ask?

“If I tell you, will you leave me alone?”

He pretended to contemplate this, like it was a matter of life or death. For emphasis, he even pushed his chin up and stroked it. I narrowed my eyes at him, too irritated to even acknowledge his attempt at being funny.

“There’s a good chance I can do that.” He finally responded. “But I make no promises.”

“Alright.” I sighed in defeat. “It’s Luna.”

“Luna?”

“Mhmm.”

“Is your last name Lovegood?” He was smirking now.

Oh ha ha, this was just fantastic. Like that was the first time I’ve ever heard that joke before.

Before I even had the chance to take my sketchbook and whack him across the head with it - trust me, I was seriously considering it - a group of girls that looked no more than five or six years younger than me were standing in front of my bench.

“Hi Harry!” One of them worked up enough courage to speak to him. “Can we get an autograph?”

“And a picture!” Another one in pigtails and school uniform piped up.

Harry jumped up. “Of course! What’s your name?”

I was so disgruntled by Harry’s presence, that I wasn’t actually aware that people in the park had stopped to stare at him. I noticed pedestrians on the other side of the park gates had even made a point to stop and take pictures of him with their iPhones.

While Harry had his back turned to me, I quietly slipped my sketchbook back into my satchel messenger bag and left the park unnoticed, hoping that would be the last time I would ever have to speak to him again.

Unfortunately, that would not be the case.