MY NAME, IS SIR [HARRY STYLES]

~~01~~

Charlotte Bailey

"So, who is he again?"

As I fetch my things from my dorm room, I'm already frazzled, and this really isn't how I wanted to be today. Today was extremely important and I just needed for it to run smoothly.

"erm, Harry Styles, he is the son of Bart Styles over at Styles Industries" I answer my roommate Tabitha as I sling the camera bag strap over my arm.

"I've heard he's a bit of a dick" she teases.

"What do you expect? You give a 21-year-old a multibillion-dollar company, I wouldn't even know what to do with that amount of money" I chuckle as I glance down at my watch, feeling my heart drop that I'm already behind schedule and I haven't even left yet.

Harry Styles father had passed away roughly 6 months ago and left the entire company to his only son. Throughout all of Harry's youth, the Styles family managed to keep him out of the public's eye. They attempted to give him a normal child hood. No one really knew what he looked like and somehow my University was gifted one of the time stamps in his reveal. Roughly 16 companies would be meeting on one day to take their shot and our institution was one of them. I still couldn't believe it.

"Plus, I'm only taking his picture, how much of a dick can he be through a lens?" sarcastically mocking as I take one more look at myself in the hallway mirror, disappointed in my reflection.

I've opted for a simple black pant that sat tightly over my hips and thighs and flared out toward the bottom, paired with a loose-fitting khaki green button up blouse, my russet-coloured hair in a messy low bun, I tug lightly on the strands by my part and let them fall loosely down each side of my face. 

Exhaling a deep breath, I accept the fact that the washed out, overtired, slightly greasy hair is the clear representation of what my final year in photography school displays. All I needed was a few portfolio photos and I would be one step closer to graduating and getting out of this place.

"Drive safe!" Tabitha calls out as I finally head out the door and to my car, throwing all my belongings into the back seat before heading out onto the interstate.

The drive from my apartment in Austin to where his offices were located in Houston was approximately a three-hour drive and I also had no idea about what sort of traffic I would run into.

The email correspondence as well as the directions are gripped firmly in my right hand on the steering wheel as I bite down on some plain rice crackers, I managed to grab on my way out the door. My version of dinner for this evening.

Upon pulling up to an array of skyscrapers, my silver 2006 Honda Fit stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the slick black Mercedes Benz that lined the streets beneath Styles Industries.

I was really pushing it close as I take another glance at my watch, only minutes to spare before I'm required to meet with his attending, Miss Phillips. Reaching across the back seat, I gather up my briefcase, camera bag and purse, quickly glancing at my watch again before racing out of the car and into the building, attempting to adjust my hair and outfit as I go.

Pushing one of my hands up against the glass door expecting it to fly open allowing me access, I'm a little caught off guard when it bounces off a solid object and almost smacks me in the face as it bounces back on impact.

"Jesus" I cuss out, stumbling to keep a hold of my bags in the process as the door is then opened for me. "Thank you, sorry" I appreciate, realising that the solid object I hit was indeed another person. I didn't bother to look up at them because I was already late now as it was, and also, I was overrun by embarrassment.