[HarryStyles] Pop Meets Hardcore

Ten.

“It’s so nice to meet you two. And it’s an honor to be the first one to interview the two of you as a couple. For those of you watching who don’t know who these two are, let me tell you. Harry Styles, teenage heartthrob and one fifth of One Direction, is the most popular guy in the world. One Direction has sold out every tour they have done in minutes. And, Harry’s girlfriend, known to the public as Braelyn Breaks, but known to Harry as Braelyn Smith, is the lead singer of rock band Depths of Dreams. In the rock world she’s known as the Queen of Rock.”

Knitting my eyebrows together, I tilt my head to the side, not knowing what to say to him. Part of me wants to kiss him, I want to feel his lips pressed against mine, to know what it feels like to kiss him. But, it’s hard. Because I  know that once his lips touch mine, I'm a sucker. It’s not hard to realize that no matter how rude Harry is to me there’s something about him that draws me to him. I can’t help it. And I'm his fake girlfriend. I'm just an annoyance.

Forcing a smile, I giggle nervously as Harry slides his hand from my thigh to my hand, lacing our fingers together. It’s not an introduction that either of us can answer, and I begin to wonder why we’re here and not on a show like Ellen because I doubt that their fans actually watch this show. Granted, her ratings must be going through the roof now that Harry is making an appearance.

He places his hand on my cheek, and I realize how nice his hand is. That’s a weird thing to notice. It has to be a weird thing to notice. I highly doubt that girls look at guys hands and think how nice they are. They're big and strong, and I didn’t realize how comforting his hand against my skin feels. “I'm sorry this isn't the romantic first kiss in the relationship that you wanted. We all can’t fulfill the desires of a hopeless romantic.” He read whatever information they had given him on me.

“I want to start off with how you two met. A lot of people are curious how you two even know each other. Last time I checked, you two don’t hang out with the same groups of people.” I know what she means by the question, and I know that she’s trying to sound politically correct, but she could have just asked how Harry ended up with a girl like me: a girl who has blonde and brown hair, a girl who sings rock songs in small venues. It seems silly that it hurts me, what she says, and what she doesn’t say, because I'm more than that. To her, I'm a deviant, I don’t fit in, I don’t look like all the other girls, so I'm not worth his attention. I'm not into rap and all of the songs on the radio and dressing with barely any clothing, so I'm not the normal girl.

Harry notices the tension seeping into my shoulders, and I think that he cares, but he doesn’t really show it, not in his face, not in his eyes, not in his body language. “We met in Africa. The guys and I happened to be volunteering there when she was there.”

I can’t help but hope that the amount of foundation and cover-up the makeup artists used covered my bruise, because I can feel it throbbing. She’s probably not going to direct a single question to me. I'm not stupid. No one really wants me here, but she wanted to be the first to have the couple together. “So, the two of you were in Africa and you met there. Was it love at first sight or did you two have to walk past each other a few more times?” She laughs at her own joke, and the two of us stifle a laugh.

From what I know, Harry doesn’t sensor himself, but for some reason, he’s on his best behavior today. It’s then that I realize how much power his management has over him. No wonder why he doesn’t want me to be around. This wasn’t his idea. This is just another thing that the management makes him go along with.

I don’t want to judge him. I don’t want to use what information I know about him that he hasn’t told me to form an idea of who he is as a person. The only way that he’s going to stop being a jerk is if I treat him like any other guy I would be interested in dating.

My eyes flutter closed, and I'm pretty sure I'm holding my breath, but nothing else is running through my head as I realize he’s going to kiss me.

I'm about to kiss Harry Styles.

“We’re going to have to get along, aren’t we?” Harry says, causing me to open my eyes immediately, and I bite down on my lower lip. Nodding my head, I lean back. I'm not going to kiss Harry Styles. “I didn’t mean to be a jerk before.” Shrugging my shoulders, I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes, because I just can’t do this anymore; I can’t continue with this back and forth.

He’s toying with my emotions and he knows it. He knows that I'm sensitive. I wear my heart on my sleeve no matter how hard I try to keep it in my chest and that’s obvious. It’s obvious. I make it obvious in hopes of being treated with respect.

“Just like you're stuck with me, I'm stuck with you. You're not the only one who wishes to be with someone else.” It’s not entirely true, I don’t know what possessed me to be that rude, but I can’t take back what I said, and I don’t want to. It feels good to give it back to him.

Shock washes over his face as he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, and who would you rather be with?”

“Anyone. Someone who isn't an egotistical prick.”