Pretend (Harry Styles) - Book 3

Chapter 57: Anger

29 Weeks Along

-Harry's POV-

"And Harry, tell us, what happened to your hand?"

I glance down at the cast covering my right hand before looking back up.

"Appears I've broken it." I shrug, looking at the interviewer disinterestedly.

"Sounds painful." She gives me a sympathetic smile. "Care to tell us how you injured it?"

"Not particularly."

A sharp nudge in my ribs makes me narrow my eyes as I scowl at Niall, the owner of one pointy elbow.

He gives me a pointed look as the interview goes on.

"Well I'm sure with how worried all your fans are, they would love to know." She presses me.

"Tennis accident." I respond curtly, saying the words I was directed to just moments ago.

"Well thankfully it didn't turn out any worse."

"You'd be surprised." I say under my breath as she smiles at me, batting her eyelashes.

It almost makes me sick.

She'd already tried to talk me up before the interview. Running her hand up my arm, attempting to flirt.

Had this been four years ago, I'd of already taken her in the bathroom. Proud of myself at just how easy it was for me.

But this isn't four years ago, this is now.

And I'm physically repulsed by her.

Her hair is far to blonde, not the shade of brown I prefer. Her skin almost orange from an overuse of fake tanner, nothing like the olive glow I'm partial to. Her laugh is shrill, a stark contrast to the sound of...

I shake the thought from my mind.

No good will come from sitting here thinking about shite that will only make me feel wretched.

Fuck, I already feel wretched. I couldn't feel worse if I tried.

And God knows I've tried.

I block out the rest of the interview, not giving one fuck if I seem rude.

I don't want to slap a fake smile on my face. I don't want to sit through another round of questions we've been asked a hundred times already.

The only thing I want to do is drown myself in my sorrows and the bottle of jack waiting for me in my hotel room.

Sounds perfect.

The interview is over before I even realize it, the lads standing up and giving their goodbyes to the small room full of people.

I follow after them as they leave the room, only giving a few quick nods and thank you's as I go.

As we head out to the car park, Niall gives me a pat on the back.

"Try to lighten up a bit next time will ya? Looked as if ya just ate a sour apple."

"Not in the mood for interviews." I shake my head, keeping it down so the paps outside the studio can't see my face.

"Or anything else." Louie pipes up from behind us. "Give it up Nialler. If you dressing up in that banana suit won't lift his spirits, nothing will."

I tune them out as they go on about my fowl mood, getting into the back of the large van that's taking us to the venue.

Liam slides into the seat next to me and I inwardly groan.