Human [Harry Styles]

Chapter Seventeen.

A/N: Just so you all know, I am so sorry for this chapter and Harry's bitter smile on the side fits a bit too well for the situation...

Harry

            Marley is better.

            That’s really the good part of this whole mess. Though that arse of a psychopath tore her down one last time before getting thrown behind bars, she’s better.

            The really bad part, on my side, at least, is that leaving the recording session to be with her is kind of the final straw for everyone else, especially management. Seriously though, I’m pretty sure that if they didn’t “need” me so damn badly for the band, I would have been kicked out by them the moment this all started up.

            Though, it’s not like that helps make me feel any better about being called to a meeting with them. Luckily, it’s the whole band, not just me, but I can suspect that a lot of it will be regarding me.

            I can’t tell how the other boys feel about it either, for they’ve all seem to have gone in their individual shutdown modes ever since the call.

            We don’t all laugh and joke the way we used to. There are no more movie nights to just hang out or even go out to clubs where the paparazzi and fans swarm like flies.

            No, I’ve been so absorbed in calling Marley every night- sometimes even going over to her house- just to make sure the poor girl hasn’t attempted to off herself or something as equally horrible.

            I’ve always blown the other lads as being off with each other or with girlfriends, keeping themselves entertained in whatever way they need. I suppose I should’ve known that it’s not the same as the five of us, still, which damages the band as a whole.

            With all our past experiences of meetings with management, it hasn’t been pretty. I can understand why they’re all so reserved the closer it gets, I just can’t help selfishly hoping that they don’t all blame me.

            By the time the meeting rolls around in the afternoon, the tension is thicker in the group than I’ve ever seen it. Sure, we’ve had little fights before, over little things, and been scared of management, but this is the worse it’s ever been.

            Paul and our other guards even seen nervous for us as they lead us down the hallway of the fourth floor of the company’s building, bodies tense and looks sympathetic.

            “Good luck lads,” is all they say before gesturing to a closed door that right about now looks like a passageway to death.

            Liam, always being the brave one, is the one with the balls to actually open the door and step inside.

            I manage to be the last to enter, seeing an oval shaped conference table encircled by a ring of office chairs. There are only three people besides us inside, but by now the others and I know they’re people to respect- or at least mildly fear.

            The first is Lea Williams, our head of publicity, at the top of the company in her field. She’s a middle-aged woman with a kind face, at least secretly, though it always molds into a mask of anger and disappointment whenever she’s in front of her real bosses, which she- of course- is right now.

            Sometimes I think she pities others and us in the company, but then she actually does her job and I think differently.

            Eric Jason and Harry Grants are the other two, the vice president and president of the company. They’re both around the same age as Lea with salt and pepper hair, but don’t seem to have the clandestinely kind personality she does, at least as far as we can tell.