Prologue

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This is a Harry Styles A.U fanfiction, which means that none of the actions in this book relate to the actual Harry Styles. This is also a collaboration by two authors, Christina and Maddie.

Harry

Dark, clean sheets were draped and hung from the ballroom ceiling. In the center of the grand room, a chandelier dangled from the ceiling, and created delicate rectangles of light to shine on the floor. Everyone that night was clad in elegant shades of black, socializing with other business owners. As I sat back, I admired the fancy guests who glided across the floor, holding champagne and clutching onto the companion next to them. Not a single person remained out of place in the isolated gathering; except for the several workers who wandered around the room in uniform and trays.

I could not help but feel exhausted by just looking at the desperate people, who bustled around the lesser important humans and diverted their attention to the hosts of the grand event, my parents. I leaned against the cushioned chair, spreading my fingers over my knees as I intently watched them greet their guests who ecstatically entered through the foyer. It was another charity event for my father's business that I didn't bother to ask about, it became such a common occasion that I forgot to care about who or what it was exactly for. So I continued to people watch, as my friends that sat next to me at the fully clothed table threw playful elbows at each other while carrying on about something I didn't bother to decipher.

"Harry," one of them said in a chastened laugh; the voice was Sam. He lowered his voice so no one else would pay much mind to him. "Check out the girls at the table over, they can't get a drink from that waiter." For some reason, they all treated the situation like it was a comedic show.

I rolled my head against the chair in an impatient manner before I complied to his wishes. I payed attention to the overly decorated girls that spewed demands at the worker, who indeed refused to give them alcohol. It was evident that they were underage, possibly even younger than I was, but it didn't stop me from waving over the closest waiter I could find that cluttered around the perimeter of the kitchen like the rest of them.

The worker whose name tag read, Xavier, warily strolled to my table, and curtly nodded his head with a fragile grin. I didn't bother to return the gesture, and ignored my ignorant friends who made tiresome comments to people who passed. The workers all wore the same, separate clothing from the rest of the guests, making them easier to spot. And as I took in Xavier's appearance, I was proved correct when I noticed the dark green fabric vest that secured around his torso, and the black slacks that were delicately ironed to the seam. It was difficult to keep a straight face when engaging in a conversation with him, considering the green outfit resembled vomit and his disheveled hair looked horribly knotted.

"Mr. Harry Styles, can I get you something?" He asked, addressing me formally like the other workers usually are required to do. He then pulled out his black notepad, flipping the worn cover to the back of the scroll.

"Just a bottle of wine for the guests at that table," I said, gesturing with a nod of my head to the lounge that held the young, disappointed girls. The worker shifted his attention back to the females, as they made matters worse by laughing immaturely.

Over at their table, they scooped up the small beads of decorative glitter that was annoyingly spread over the tablecloth. With every irritated cell in my body, I intently watched as they sprinkled the sparkly substances over each other's heads; they began to whimper with excitement once they saw my eyes lingering helplessly on their childish behavior.

Xavier looked back at me, and I could tell by the semi-sour look on his face that he noticed their engrossed infatuation with the glitter. I waved him off whilst squinting my eyes, traveling my vision back to his notepad that hung open with small, illegible scribbles on it.

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