Match.com

“How does this look?” Harry stepped out of the bathroom, fiddling with the brown leather belt that was holding his beige chinos up. He felt uncomfortable and maybe the tiniest bit ridiculous but tired not to show it. A red plaid shirt was tucked into the trousers and buttoned all the way up to his neck, hiding his cross necklace and all of his tattoos. The sleeves were rolled all the way down and buttoned at the wrists. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this restricted, even suits were more comfortable.

“You don’t have a jumper you could throw on too do you? Or a tank?” Lou asked, looking up from her phone at the nineteen year old replica of Will Mackenzie.

“I have a jumper!”

Harry came back from his closet, pulling a jumper over his still-loose curls and distorting his figure further. He went to look at himself in the bathroom mirror, making sure everything was in place. Lou got up to join him, watching as he put in the contact lenses he’d bought, changing his green eyes to murky brown. Harry fixed the heavy prop glasses on, turning to smile.

“Alright?”

“Don’t you think this is all a little extreme Haz? I mean…it’s not like you have a hard time with girls the way you are.”

“That’s exactly the problem Lou, everyone thinks the worst of me immediately because I’ve had a couple girlfriends and gone on a handful of dates,”

Lou snorted in amusement and Harry glared at her.

“I don’t want any of that business going into this. I just want to be my plain old self without all the pretenses and I want to date a nice, normal girl. Someone who isn’t just interested in me because I have money.”

“But it’s not you Harry. You’re pretending to be someone else entirely. So she isn’t seeing you without any pretenses. Because you’re all in this ridiculous get up and she can’t get to know you apart from anything anyone says. How do you know…when you finally tell her because,” Lou paused when Harry started to head back to the bedroom, “Harry please listen to me. I’m really not trying to hurt you. I love you and you know it.”

“It’s going to be fine Lou, just please fix my hair.” He frowned.

“You know you’ll have to tell her someday? She’ll have to know. Then what are you going to do?”

“I’m not there yet.” Harry snapped, “I don’t even know if this is going to work out…and if it does then I will figure it out.”

“Harry,” Lou pleaded.

“Just fix my hair Lou. I didn’t call you over here so you could lecture me.”

Lou sighed and crawled onto the bed behind Harry. Despite being nineteen he was still prone to tantrums that reminded her the smallest of Lux. She knew he was under a lot of stress but she also knew that fooling around like this wasn’t going to help him if things with this girl did end up serious. She’d be pissed if Tom lied to her like this. But Harry had this clouded perception that everything was going to turn into Penelope and she would fall in his arms at the end, understanding everything perfectly.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt Hazza,” Lou whispered, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing the side of his face.

“I won’t,” he mumbled, shrugging at her slightly, trying to make her unwind her arms.

Lou went to work, gelling Harry’s hair into place. By the time she finished all the curls were nearly invisible and his hair felt like a rock to touch. She wanted to tell him again that this was a terrible idea but she knew he couldn’t be swayed. All he had been able to talk about yesterday was how Murphy had invited him to dinner.

“Remember Haz, nothing more than a kiss if anything physical happens. And don’t mention anyone who might be recognizable. Please don’t stay too late either, or drink too much. You have the movie premiere tomorrow afternoon. And sometimes when you drink you get a little loose with your words. I don’t want you saying anything you shouldn’t.” Lou spoke, watching him get up to grab his wallet and house keys.

“I know Lou, I know.”

“Be safe. This is very important.” Lou gave him another kiss on the cheek before both of them left the flat.

Harry headed down the stairs of the flat building, opting to give himself some time to think over everything that was going to happen tonight. He didn’t want to ride the elevator with Lou either, he was upset that she thought he was so irresponsible. Everything was going to be fine. Everything was going to go the way it was supposed to go. There was no other option.

The walk gave him time to think about Murphy most of all. He thought of what she might look like in person. Only a few days ago she’d sent him a picture of her at the beach with one of her nieces when he’d asked what she was doing. Most of the picture was taken up by her niece making a funny face but he could see the slightest bit of Murphy sitting behind her. He could make out her smiling face and her floral print bikini. The outline of her curves and the top of her breasts exposed but her sweetheart neckline was enough to make him excited. Which made the rules even harder.

No physical contact aside from a kiss or hug.

No mentioning anyone in the band or anyone recognizable.

No talking about actual details of his family or home.

No straying from the made-up Marcel he was pretending to be.

No exposing tattoos.

No taking out of contacts.

No telling Murphy who he actual was until this was serious.

There were probably more that Louis, Niall, Zayn, Liam, Lou, and Gemma hadn’t thought of yet. More rules that he needed to follow to protect himself, Murphy, and anyone else that might be hurt by the act he was pulling.

Harry took the tube to Murphy’s sister’s. He didn’t think Marcel was the type to drive a ranger rover and Liam told him that buying an entirely new car for the purpose of dating a girl seemed a little bizarre. Harry figured it was and, being the broke UNI student he (unrealistically) was took the tube.

He got a seat next to an older woman in the corner, trying not to draw any attention to himself. Honestly, he hadn’t ridden the tube since before X-Factor. During and after it was impossible to go anywhere without being escorted through hoards of screaming girls. It was all a little too exciting for him. No one in the car even bothered a look at him. To them he was just a badly dressed kid riding like everyone else.

When the car stopped he got off, heading to the exit and mentally running through everything he was going to say to her. She was bound to ask about UNI because he was supposed to be dorky and smart and probably one of those guys that only ever talked about UNI. But he’d never been. He knew a few people that went to UNI…some old friends from Holmes but most of them were the ‘party-all-weekend’ type and somehow Marcel didn’t seem like he was. Harry had started taking some free online classes to get an idea of what actually doing schoolwork would feel like. Most of it was easy, he wasn’t ever a stupid kid and he did pretty well, but his schedule made it impossible to ever get the whole of the work done. Which was exactly why he wasn’t in UNI.

He rang the doorbell at her sister’s house, glancing up and down the sidewalk to watch the people and cars. If walking around London was this effortless than he was going to dress like Marcel more often. Niall hadn’t stopped calling him Hannah Montana since he devised the scheme (that he preferred not to call a scheme). And while he really wanted to kill his Irish friend, Niall was right. He was a bit like Hannah Montana.

“Fuck...” Harry muttered, just realizing as he heard the lock turn that he could never have her over his place. He could add that to the list.

No fraternizing outside of her place, in case someone recognizes you.

No fraternizing at your place in case she recognizes you.

“Marcel!”

It was too late to worry though because her arms were around his neck and she was pressed against him in a hug. And he was fucking eating it up. Harry turned his head, leaning into her and burying his face in her neck, getting a whiff of her shampoo and perfume. God did she smell delicious.

This was all a lot easier on the phone.

Murphy held on a moment longer before pulling back and smiling at him. She was tall he noted; glancing down at her feet he realized she wasn’t wearing heels, she was naturally tall. Maybe only three or four inches shorter then him. Harry tugged at his sweater and shoved his glasses further up his nose.

“H-hello, how…uh, how are you Murphy?” Harry stuttered out, remembering the ‘chipper’ voice that he and Louis had rehearsed.

“Good, dinnah is almost ready. Sorry, I wanted it to be ready when ye got ’ere. 'onestly I was a little glad ye were late cause oferwise we'd just be sitting around waiting for dinnah.” Murphy laughed out of embarrassment, taking Harry’s hand and leading him into the house.

“It’s okay,” Harry shook his head and followed her to the kitchen, letting his fingers curl up to hold her hand in return.

Lou just had to be wrong about this one.