DUO || Harry Styles

1

H. Styles

"You can't be fucking serious, Mitch." I was tucking corners of my button down into my jeans. Mitch crouched to join me in a private vehicle sent from the record company. It was considerably spacious, but suddenly felt so small now. I felt as naked and vulnerable for the entire world to see. It was all so difficult to understand — a duo? I did not build myself up as a strong standing individual to become yet another piece of another puzzle.

 "Columbia Records, please." He directed the driver, "and step on the gas. We should've been there by like yesterday."

The move was bound to bomb my entire career. I could already see the media taking this opportunity and running to the ends of the Earth with it.

Harry Styles : Clinging to Others For Fame! Read how he manages to throw his entire career away with a single finger.

"Don't look at me like that, Harry." Mitch demanded, evidently bothered by my permanent scowl. "You know I don't make the rules, only follow them. If it were up to me, things would be different."

I shifted my head to the window and kept silent.

But they aren't up to you, Mitch. You don't make the rules, only follow them. So things aren't different. Things are exactly the same. They say and we listen. My new manager is nothing different than my former - Simon. Different face, same asshat. I thought this would be far behind me — the days where I was only a piece of the bigger picture.

"Give it a chance. Give the girl a chance." He shuffled in his seat due to the uncomfortable silence. I could tell it was practically suffocating him. "She has a beautiful voice."

Why should I care? If she has such a beautiful voice, she could make it on her own. I wasn't interested in Doowa Lips' potential in even the slightest.

"Really, she does. Fresh face, stable fan base. Why don't I play you something of hers?" He offered. There was tapping of his screen, soon followed by sounds of upbeat pop.

Hell no.

My hands quickly dug into my jean pocket, fishing out my earphones. I connected them to my cell, and scrolled through my music library in search for an escape from the cliche tune. Pressing the title This Charming Man, I allowed the guitar strings of Johnny Marr take me somewhere far from here. I made a mental note to personally thank Morrissey for shielding my ears from whatever Mitch had in store for them.

____

 The elevator doors opened to reveal the usual bustling activity of many employees. There was not one person at standstill — everyone in constant motion whether it be at desktops or fetching coffee. Insane; so many bodies causing commotion yet, I still felt so isolated.

Something I felt so often and deeply.

"Mr. Styles," I was shaken out of my daze and brought to Earth by the woman before me. She wore a loose ponytail, ripped jeans, and a band tee I recognized as my own paired with combat boots. Her lips formed into a cheesy smile, and in her hands were a box of donuts.

"Kimberly, what did I tell you about calling me that?" I ran my fingers through my hair before scanning the sweet snacks and picking a glazed donut out of the bunch.

"Never in public," She winked, swatting Mitch's hungry hand out the box all the while.

I playfully rolled my eyes. Kimberly Walters was beautiful, even a blind man could see it, but her and I could never be a thing.