Lust, Lies, and Forbidden Ties ✵ h.s.

✵ twenty-five ✵

     The first two days of the week had gone by rather smoothly. Over the weekend, I basically spent time with Oliver, while also preparing for my busy week. Of course, I understood why fitting everything into a week was necessary, but I was also slowly losing steam, and it was only Wednesday. On Friday we were supposed to finish at lunch time, but it was still a day and a half a way, and I wasn't sure if I could handle that. Yesterday, I hadn't been there for the photo shoots, nor for Monday, but Mrs. Woods said the Presidents of Vanity Fair, Another Man, Rolling Stones, The Sunday Times, and a couple others didn't want me sitting in with them. I thought it was fair, but it meant I would have to be with Harry, who, even though we had a great day last Friday, had been nothing but grouchy anytime we were in the same room together.

"No. I'm not doing that."

"Mr. Styles, it's not that bad. You just have to wear these for a couple of shots."

He looked absolutely furious, and I had only just walked in to the studio. When I saw what they wanted him to wear, I could kind of see his reasoning, but I was sure he could pull anything off. It was a fuzzy sweater, and white jeans that had what looked like dark blue paint splattered all over them. Deciding that it wasn't my issue to deal with, I sat in a plush chair, pulling my phone out. Glancing over it as Harry tried to continue to fight, I had enough of it when he said he could get them fired. It was always his go to line, and while I was sure he did have that much pull in a company, I felt that it was completely unnecessary when he was the one being difficult. Setting my phone on the table, I walked over, Harry not looking pleased, but I could tell the man working was thankful that someone was willing to intervene.

"Harry, you have to wear this," I told him.

"I'm not wearing that."

"You're being rude. Put it on, and let's get this going. If you continue to refuse, lunch will get shoved back, and then we will be finished later in the day."

"You can't tell me what to—"

"Do your job," I scoffed. "You're not going to get any award from them if you're being rude and incompetent."

He rolled his eyes, clearly displeased, but I was glad he took the clothes from the worker, and walked off to the curtains where he could change. The man thanked me gratefully, asking who I was. Quickly explaining my position, he seemed to understand, and even thought it must have been cool to be around Harry, but I said he was angry almost all the time, so it wasn't that fun.

"I look stupid."

"Stop complaining," I told him when he approached, taking his clothes when they were handed to me. "Let them fix your hair, and we can get this moving right along."

He sighed, following someone to do his hair while they worked on staging the area. I just sat reading on my phone, only pausing when Harry sounded like he was beginning to get unreasonable. Every time I glanced at him, he must have been reminded of what I had said, because he would quickly go back to doing his job. It was followed by a costume change, Harry agreeing with the less eccentric sweater. They did head shots for that one, and then switched his outfit again. It continued on for a couple hours, and I had nearly finished the book I was reading when we were done, Mrs. Woods walking in just as Harry changed back into his own clothes.

"Next stop, as long as you guys are finished," Mrs. Woods stated.

"We are," I assured her. "Thank you."

She nodded, thanking the crew that was working. They then thanked us before we left, Harry falling into step beside me. He didn't say anything, but we got to the elevator, Mrs. Woods asking if we preferred to go to lunch now or after Vanity Fair.