Chapter Two

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I'd never experienced the world's most eligible bachelor walking towards me before. The sheer volume of the thoughts that flew through my head should've short circuited my brain. And maybe it did. Because all I could focus on was what he was wearing.

He came closer and then closer and then closer still, stopping a few feet away from us. I could hear the tiny screams of the five or six girls that were still left in the building with us. The staff of the club quickly corralled them when they made moves towards Harry.

He held up his hand,

"Hold on!" He yelled towards them, "Gimme a minute guys." He turned his attention on me, "Will you wait here until I finish with them?"

I had no words. Nothing. No syllable whatsoever came out. I just stared at him wide eyed. He smirked,

"I'll take that as a yes." He rested his hand on my arm as he passed me.

Me, Dori and Cely all turned to watch him approach the girls behind us. He took pictures and he signed autographs and I swore he even called a few parents. It all took about ten minutes. He walked back to us after the girls were escorted out,

"Sorry." He said as he jogged towards us, "Didn't want them to think I was shoving them out."

Was he talking to me?

He cleared his throat,

"Allow me to introduce myself...I'm Harry Styles." He said as he offered me his hand.

I stared at him, still wide eyed, as my eyes dropped to his hand. My head snapped back up. He awkwardly pulled his hand back,

"Alright...uh..." He stumbled. I watched as he lifted his arm, his fingers stretched out to scratch the back of his neck, "And you are..." He prompted.

"You're wearing jeans." I blurted out, finally finding my words.

He pulled his eyebrows together in confusion. I quickly recovered,

"Sylvie." I answered "Sylvie Frank."

He smiled,

"It's nice to meet you Sylvie." He tore his eyes from mine long enough to look over at Dori and Cely who looked just as shocked as I did, "Hi." He quipped.

Cely thrust her hand out,

"Celine Fisher."

He shook her hand,

"Nice to meet you, Celine."

"Cely." She practically shouted, quickly quieting herself down when her voice echoed through the empty building, "Everyone calls me Cely."

Harry smiled and then turned his attention to Dori,

"Doreen Frank." She answered before he could ask. She gestured to me, "I'm her younger sister." She cleared her throat, "Everyone calls me Dori."

"Nice to meet you, Dori."

He turned his attention back to me,

"Would the three of you mind joining me backstage? They'd like to get to cleaning up so they can let the staff go." He explained.

All I could do was nod, stilted nods that made it seem like my neck was broken. I heard the bodyguard who'd originally asked me to stay snicker behind Harry.

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In my defense, he was wearing jeans. A pair of the best fitting jeans I'd ever seen. A t-shirt with the word SEX emblazoned on it in bold, black letters and a pair of trainers. It was the most normal I'd ever seen him, considering earlier on stage when he was decked out in so many sequins he'd probably caused several women to go blind while they sewed all of them on his custom Gucci suit. His shaggy brunette hair was drying now, but the curls still flopped all over his head in the kind of controlled mess reserved for celebrities of his caliber.

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