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"I'm just saying Niall, what if it's not good!? I've been spending almost a year on this album and so far, there's only 7 songs that I like." I rambled to my best friend, Niall. I've been having doubts about the new album I was writing. It's been stressing me out, because I haven't written any new songs yet, and was planning to release the new album by the end of the year.

"Look mate, I've listened to these songs and they are good!" He replied.

"I understand this is all stressful because this is your 4th album, but you've come so far and I know you can do it. If you need some motivation, look for it. Heck, I wish I could help, but you know I've tried and you literally threw the whole song in the trash." He chuckled.

"Yeah, sorry about that." I chuckled as I remembered the memory.

"But I don't know. What if I can't think of anything? what if my fans don't like the songs?" I rambled desperately, placing my hand over my face in frustration.

"They will like the songs, Louis, don't fret too much."

"I hope so."

"Get some sleep. You need a break anyway, you've been stressing yourself." He suggested.

I sighed. "Okay, I will. Good night, Ni"

"Good night, Tommo." We hung up, and I tried getting some sleep like he said.

A week passed by, and the stress of writing a new song grew.

I would look at a piece of paper with a pen in my hand, and nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I decided to go to this cafe I enjoyed going to every day for breakfast. It was the only place I felt like I could think.

I texted Niall asking if he'll like to join, but he declined, saying he was having a lazy day. Typical Niall.

I walked into the cafe and ordered my usual; a regular coffee, a muffin, and a toasted sandwich.

"Louis?" I turned around as I heard my name, and see a young fan. She looked nervous, and held her phone tightly.

"C-can I ge- get a picture with you, pl-ease?" She nervously asked.

"Sure, love." I got up from my chair and stood next to her. She was shaking and held the phone with a nervous grasp.

"I can take the picture instead if you'd like?" I suggested. She nodded quickly and handed me the phone. I took the picture, and handed her back the phone.

"I love you so much! you mean so much to me and have inspired me and so many people." She began to cry. I smiled at her and hugged her.

"Thank you love, that means a lot." I said against her shoulder. We pulled away and she asked for an autograph, before leaving.

I always met fans when I came here. They would just come up to me and ask for a picture or an autograph. Sometimes even a video message to send to a friend. As for others, they know I would be here whenvever I'm in London and would wait for me outside, or inside where they would be looking through the window to see if I would show up and think I wouldn't know what they're doing. Your whole face is eagerly focused on looking out the window from left to right, and immediately stop when you see me; I'm not stupid.

It had gotten so annoying for me, that I even made a statement on Twitter telling them to stop and respect my privacy. Obviously they ignored it, and still continued to show up. So I just gave up really because I knew nothing would change.

I finished my breakfast and left a note on the table. As I was leaving, my eyes caught sight of what looked like a book sitting on a table. Curiosity took over me, and I walked closer to get a better look. It appeared to be a journal. Someone must've left it by accident.

I hesitated to open it, knowing it would be an invasion of privacy; but if I didn't, then how would I know who it belongs to? if they even had their info in it that is, for if it ever gets lost. I think it's very important to do that when you have a journal or notebook.

I decided to just give it to the owner instead. Whoever left it, would probably come back later to get it.

Or so I thought.

The next morning, I went to the cafe as usual, and ordered my usual order. Then I remembered the journal I found yesterday, and wondered if the person came back for it. So I asked.

"Nope, nobody has came back for it yet." The barista answered.

I thought for a second. Maybe I could return it myself?

"If possible, maybe I can return it to the owner myself? If they left any info in it?" The barista hummed in response and opened the journal. Well, at least I didn't have to worry about opening it myself.

"It says, if found, please return to Harry Styles; and the address is right here." He said, showing me the address.

"Great, thanks mate." I thank him - and at that - I made my way to the address that's in the journal.

I turned the radio on and began to tap my finger to whatever song was playing. It took me about 19 minutes to get to the address, before I parked my car near the sidewalk and got out. It was a nice house. I admired it for a moment, before making my way toward the door.

I looked around for paparazzi or fans, before walking further. I knocked on the door and waited.

The door opened shortly after and a man, probably around his mid 20s, opened it.

He had curly brown hair and green eyes. He was a handsome lad if I may say. He didn't seem to have an expression, and glanced at the journal before looking back at me.

"Hello, I saw this journal at a cafe yesterday and wanted to return it. I swear I didn't open it, I felt like it would've been an invasion of privacy. The barista opened it and showed me your address." I explained right away.

"You didn't open it?" He asked, seeming slightly surprised but also, confused.

"No? it wouldn't seem right. It's an invasion of privacy, and I wouldn't do that." I said.

He nodded, understanding. He had an expression after that that I couldn't read. "Well, thank you, I guess... uhh... okay, well, bye."

"No problem, bye." I said back, and he closed the door, and I walked back to my car.

He seemed nice.

Whoo! new story! I hope you guys like this. I'd planned it last year, finished the first chapter in May this year, but had to delay it because it didn't have a cover yet, and I tried looking at cover shops.

But anyway, I just hope you guys like it! see you soon.xX❤️

Vote, comment, or share!.xX

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