No More Pictures Please {Harry Styles Fanfic}

Chapter 7: Been There, Done That.

No More Pictures Please : Chapter 7- Been There, Done That.

That's Mrs.J right over there A.K.A Paige Turco.

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{Tyler's POV}

You know what? I'm here way too often.

Now where am exactly is the question. Where am I... Hm.

Oh that's right. My mother's fucking office.

My mother's office, with its tinted glass walls, useless white couches, lamps, tables, and plastic chairs that were quite unsuitable for slouching, although somehow I managed.

It was also incredibly hard to put my feet up on her slippery glass desk, but I managed that too.

Shortly after Louis threatened to allow the fans to eat Harry up whole, curls and all, we all made it to the movies relatively safe, although Diana may have tripped over Niall's foot once or twice.

The movie experience wasn't much to talk about, Harry simply hid his face in his T-shirt the entire time, a polar opposite to the rest of the man-child-boys, who were shushing us all at any point in the movie where they had a scene of only themselves.

Conceited idiots.

Anyways, after that, I decided that I would go shopping or something, and of course all the boys loved the idea of that, but even so they ended up dropping me off at a mall, saying something about taking Harry to a bar.

I could picture Diana, she wasn't much of a drinker although she was surely old enough to, the only sober one in a mess of five boys. I suddenly felt bad about leaving her there, but maybe she didn't even go with them. No, she probably did, what with Niall all but strapping her to his wrist.

When I got to the mall, and I had the absolutely fantastic idea of tweeting about the movie and my mall plan, and due to my idiotic actions, I was greeted by parasites, blabbering unintelligible questions and asking to confirm bullshit rumors. Bullshit. On the few occasions the paparazzi said something rude enough to piss me off, it had not ended well. You can imagine what I did after that.

That was my brilliant act that landed me here.

Here with the not-so-lovely sight of my mom's eyes narrowed, claws out, and lips pressed into a line so tight you'd think they might break. Not that this was unusual, this look was something I've seen many times before. In fact, it was almost routine.

I go out, do something. She calls me in the most stern voice she can muster. Then, I ditch whatever it is I'm doing, and drive over to her office, practically shutting the whole building down. She yells, I listen, then I disrespect her with a sarcastic remark. She rubs her temples, politely asks my to fuck off, and I leave, assuring her that I would be better next time, leaving the building back to its original chaotic state.

I know I said that my mom enjoyed my badass reputation, but she was overly paranoid that the media would finally get sick of my bitchiness and toss me aside. But hey, if I don't have my bitchiness I've at least got some talent.

I mean, what would happen if you took the crazy outfits out of Lady Gaga? Life wouldn't be the same.

"What is this?" She practically shouts through clenched teeth, smacking a magazine down onto her beloved designer desk, right beside the spot where my feet lay not-so-comfortably, although I'd never let her know that.

But I think she may have been more angry about me disrupting the cleanliness of her desk and the papers scattered about than whatever story was printed in this magazine.

Boo hoo.

I lean over slowly, and carefully pick up the thing. The cover consisted of me, caught in the act of flipping off some paparazzi. Eh, been there done that.

"Come on. Is that the best they've got?" I pout, faking hurt. And here comes the rubbing of the temples.

"Tyler. You've got to at least somewhat manage your reputation, I mean really? Was that necessary?" She exclaimed, falling into her chair and lowering her eyebrows, which made the makeup crinkle.

"Yes it was necessary and you know it. Now can I leave?" I ask, standing up and grabbing my purse.

"We are not done. I want you to stay with Harry, pull him along. But no serious relationships. Keep stringing him along, I won't allow you to toss this one aside like the rest." She asserts, waving me out, my sign to fuck off. But what's one more rude comment?

"I don't have to listen to you. And what if he doesn't even like me? Surely you're rich enough." I reply, crossing my arms, to which she begins laughing. But it sounded more like a bitter cry coming from my mother.

"Tyler. He does like you. All of them do. That's all I'm telling you to do, keep it going. We need this right now, you both have been on the front pages of everything for days! And those days will turn into weeks..." And that will turn into more money for me! I could almost her her say that under her breath.

"Whatever." I snap and stick out my middle finger, causing her to simply sneer, knowing well enough that that was my last resort.

"Hey. You listen to me. Drag him along. His managers know about it too, but we've decided to keep it a secret. I'm afraid that he is a horrible little actor."

Once those words leave her lips I stomp through the door, causing some poor intern to panic and drop all her papers. That bitch! Was she eavesdropping?

I turn to face her, and she's in a hurry, picking up all the things she dropped and avoiding my eyes.

"Hey. Were you there the whole time?" I ask, and she begins to walk away.

"I said, were you there the whole time?" What with my mom telling me there was really no even possibly future for me and Harry, I was in a pretty pissed mood. This girl was just icing on the cake.

Not that I even saw a future with him.

"N-N-No I'm uh, I'm Mrs. Jones new assistant." She looked up from behind her glasses and sucked in a breath. I could tell what was going though her brain, that she'd fucked up, and that she probably just lost her job. Almost anyone that so much as said hello to me was always fired, my mom hated having me interact with any of the workers here.

"Just go." I towered over the petite girl, especially in these heels, and she scurried away, loosing papers all the while.

When I reach the outside, I see the familiar faces of my usual bodyguards, waiting patiently for me at the doors.

"Afternoon boys." I greet them, and I make it to the car in one piece and without a single foul word or rude gesture spared to anyone. It's fairly quiet still.

In the back of my now drifting mind I wonder where Harry is.

Actually, I don't even care. Just let me go to sleep.

Before my eyes fully close, I swear I hear my phone beep.

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I actually enjoyed this chapter. So now, you understand just how much of a b*tch Tyler's mom is.

You know I love you all, but I'd really love to receive any LONG comments about how I could improve, or what you liked...

So please. Comment, and vote. Leave a good lengthy comment about what you hated, any rants you might be holding back, what you loved, how I could improve, etc. I would completely adore that.

@shifts ILY BBY. You have stuck with me even though this story is pretty new. :)

~MISSY