Summer

Five.

Summer's eyebrows were lifted so high, they practically disappeared into her hairline. Harry cocked a half smile at the sight. She opened and closed her mouth several times, frozen where she stood and just gaping at him. Harry raised his own brow after a moment, prompting her to finally speak, though she stumbled over her words.

"No way," she said, shaking her head. Harry nodded his head. "You- what? You're in a band? Is it- oh, my gosh. I- I think I know which one."

Summer turned around, raising her hands to her head and letting out a short laugh. This man was that Harry. Harry Styles, lead singer of a new band: Falling Stars. The new band that had quickly risen to fame. The new band that had quickly become her favourite.

Summer turned back around to face him and let her arms fall slowly back to her sides. His facial expression was almost unreadable as he watched her. She wondered how it hadn't clicked; she'd never seen photos of them, but that voice was unmistakable. That voice couldn't belong to anyone else besides the Harry Styles.

She let her mouth fall open and then closed it again. She pulled in a deep breath through her nostrils and shook herself. Harry was starting to look unsure, so she quickly cleared the thoughts of him being famous from her mind. It wouldn't be fair- he was popular, but still just a human, just like her.

"Wow," she breathed out. She raised her eyebrows again and gave him a small smile. He returned it, albeit timidly. "That's pretty huge. So, you write songs and you're a famous singer."

"It's been a passion since I was young," he said with a nod. Summer relaxed her expression, smiling warmly at the thought of a young Harry pursuing his dreams. Harry visibly relaxed as well.

"I wish I had that kind of determination to meet my own goals," Summer said.

"What are your goals?" Harry asked.

He started to walk along the path again, and Summer followed after him. She worried her bottom lip and thought about whether or not to tell him. It wasn't like the idea was outrageous. She just wasn't sure whether or not she was ready to voice it.

"Well," she sighed. "I- I want to open my own bakery. And sell paintings on the side. I'd need to move to a bigger city, maybe, to really profit with the bakery. But mostly I just want people to eat the breads and cakes I make, and feel happy they stopped by."

Harry chuckled as he followed the winding path over to the swing sets. Summer paused a few feet away and watched him sit in one of the swings.

"What?" Summer asked. She grinned though; not feeling at all like he was mocking her dream, not with the huge grin he had on his face.

"It's funny," he began, "but only because I used to work at a bakery. Before I took the opportunity to start off my dream career."

"Oh." Summer giggled at the thought of Harry in an apron, kneading dough, flour all over him. "Oh, that's cute." She giggled more and crinkled her nose. She brought her hand up to her mouth in an attempt to stifle what was becoming a full belly laugh.

"It's not that funny, or cute," Harry chuckled with her.

There was silence between them then, only the sound of the wind blowing through the trees and Harry moving gently back and forth on the swing. Summer watched Harry for a moment before deciding to sit in the swing next to him. She crossed her arms in front of herself, over the chains, like Harry had. He beamed next to her.

"I think you can do it," he said. Summer looked up at him. He twisted the swing around so he was facing her directly. "What are you doing for work now?"

"I work overnights stocking a grocery store," Summer said, biting her lip and flushing.

It wasn't the best job, but it did actually pay quite well. And besides; she had her other friend to help out with bills. It wasn't like she was ridiculously poor. But it was still embarrassing, when comparing the job to what Harry did for a living.

"How much you make?" he asked. There was no judgment in his voice. Summer twisted her swing around too so she could face him better.

"About $15 an hour," she said. "But I've been working there a long time. Lots of raises."

"So, ideally you have a roommate?" he said. Summer nodded at that. "Then you're hopefully saving up money, for emergencies and other things. If you save up enough, and have a good enough credit score, you could get a loan and start renting a space somewhere? Get a license or whatever you need. Start baking, and start making money. Before you know it, you have enough saved up to buy a place! No more renting! And you'll be a famous baker. There'll be famous people pouring in through your doors. I'll make sure of it."

Summer was laughing hard by the end of Harry's ramble. She brought her hand up to her mouth again and untwisted her swing. He was right about most of what he had suggested. She could see herself managing it now.

"And, your paintings will be so well-admired," he started again. "You know, you'll have them hanging up around the bakery, slash cafe."

"Oh, I'm running a cafe now, too?" Summer asked.

"Yes, you'll have to!" Harry said. "Your customers will love you so much, they won't want to leave with their bread and their cakes. They'll want to stay and eat and chat with you. And admire and buy your paintings! You'll have prices listed below each one you have hung up."

"Oh," Summer said. She laughed more, and looked at Harry who was still grinning at her. "That sounds too unrealistic now." But she was grinning at him too, living in the fantasy with him.

"No wonder you managed to achieve your dreams," Summer nodded. "You've got a good heart, that I know so far. Thank you, Harry."

"Of course."
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Sorry for the long delay. Work has been insane and I haven't been writing.

Edit: Forgot that italics and bold don't just magically copy over from wattpad lol. So I added those in.