Pretending {H.S}

FRATernising

Harry.

Parading around in a monkey suit for your father sounds like something one would enjoy, no? Definitely not.

Nine o'clock in the morning I got to the stupid office, it was three in the afternoon and the day showed no signs of ending any time soon.

The fourth meeting started and finished in a prolonged flurry of a voice that said absolutely nothing of interest for an hour and a half.

I'd had compliments on my haircut, one after the other as the usual faces appeared in the comfy desk chairs. I smiled politely and thanked them, but in my head I was cursing my father over and over again.

"Only a couple more left to go kid," Veronica- my dads secretary- tapped my shoulder empathetically, "and you do look handsome with the new hair. I know you hate it, but it suits you."

"V, I don't hate it." I sighed, running my hand through my curls instinctively. "I hate that he was able to make me do it, I cannot wait to graduate and then never see him again."

Veronica was only a couple of years older than me, she was tall and slim, with long locks of jet back hair, she was working with my father to get some experience for when she started her own company.

But she'd been saying that for six years.

I wasn't judging, a job with DASH came with great pay and even better benefits, if I didn't want to be on the opposite side of the planet from the CEO, I would kill for a job there.

"I love the nails too by the way," she winked at me, heading out at the next group trickled in, "maybe you can do mine some time."

The final meeting of the day finally came to a close at five-thirty, but I wasn't allowed out of the room until fifteen minutes later, Dad made me wait for the stragglers to leave.

'It was good manners.'

Declan Styles had a face like a slapped arse when the last minion waddled out of the stuffy conference room. He was angry with me, I wasn't sure why, but it was certain that I was in for it.

He stalked over to me like a predator hunting it's prey, locking the eyes that I saw in the mirror every morning onto my face.

"Seriously, Harry." He said in a gruff voice. "Couldn't you have flashed anyone a real smile?"

"How can I give someone a real smile when I'm so bloody miserable?" I exclaimed, furrowing my eyebrows for effect.

He scoffed, throwing his arms up in frustration and started to pace.

"You show up here with your sleeves rolled up, no tie, showing off the graffiti all over your body and you have-," he looked down at my hands grimacing, "you have your nails painted, like a little school girl with all those stupid rings on. You look ridiculous."

A strange heat rose in my chest when he mentioned my nails, Anna did those for me, he could go fuck himself if he didn't want me to do that.

"You've already forced me to chop off my hair, Dec," I hissed at him sarcastically, "I don't think a little paint on my big boy nails is going to hurt anyone.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair so much that it was going to get greasy.

"I don't know what else I can do for you, Harry." He seethed, raking his hand through his greying hair. "I pay for your school, I give you work experience half the world would kill for, I-"

"Left my mum and I in your past and she killed herself." I spat, finishing his sentence angrily at the sound of him casting it up to me. "Yeah, leave that part out of your biography, Dec, I don't think the fans will like that."