Weightless (H.S. BWWM)

On Top

Ignore ignore ignore – that's been the motto since my nudes got leaked. It's next to impossible to do but I was managing fine until my PR team finally tracked me down. Jackson has had them calling nonstop since everything came out hoping I'd finally answer. The only reason I even picked up the phone is because Harry had me distracted with a fantastic foot rub. Typically, I'm too ticklish for him to go anywhere near my feet but in the days since the leak I've been so stressed it's like my skin there doesn't even remember being sensitive.

After Jackson scolded me for not answering anyone's calls he laid it on me that I would have to go on at least one interview to, in his words, "set the record straight." I made it known I couldn't care less about the record seeing as how my reputation isn't that great anyway but he wasn't hearing it. He wasted no time informing me that I'm a public figure now – a brand – and as such I have to explain myself to the public at large even when it doesn't seem right or fair.

I agreed to do the interview but I told him flat out that I'm doing this my way. I won't be railroaded with uncomfortable questions and I won't be reading off of a script. If I'm doing this at all I'm going to speak from the heart and tell nothing but the truth. After a long pause he agreed, although begrudgingly.

I don't understand what the big deal is. I write sex books for a living for crying out loud, I don't get how having nudes out there is such a shock. Why I have to go on national TV and talk about my cupcakes and sugar bowl is beyond me. I'm not the first person to have their nudes leaked whether by a hacker or a betrayal and I won't be the last. We, as women, typically all have the same stuff underneath our clothes so the fascination with seeing the newest nudes goes right over my head.

What's worse is the reaction I've been getting from the public. I'll never understand this obsession with tearing people down from the safety of your home. These people go and search for my nudes just so they can ridicule me and talk crap behind a screen – it's idiotic. You knew the pictures were out there before you looked them up so why wait until you see them to talk your shįt? Do you have to make sure they pass a hotness test first or something? The shįt is weird to me.

Harry's hand squeezes mine softly as we walk towards the stage. The interview is with an entertainment journalist on E News named Penelope Vargas, a pretty Latina with long blue-black hair and even longer legs. Her segment is one of the most popular because it's only on once a week and it's always live in front of a studio audience. Her show is kind of messy like Wendy Williams' but she seems easy enough to work with so far. We spoke directly to set this interview up and she commended me on handling my business on my own and expressed her condolences that we'd be meeting under such crappy circumstances. I liked that she was easy to talk to and seemed to understand my predicament but I've seen some of her interviews and she doesn't always play by the rules. I'll have my guard up even though she swore she'd be on her best behavior, going so far as to allow Harry to be with me during the interview as a sign of good faith. Of course I knew that was a crock of gas, that little gesture had nothing to do with "good faith" and everything to do with good ratings. Being able to say she's having Harry Styles and his slutty girlfriend on her show brings in way more views than just saying Harry's harlot is coming for an interview. My agreeance to the interview at all, however, relied on having Harry by my side and she's the only interviewer we spoke with that would allow it so here I am.

"Are you two all mic'd up and ready to go?" Penelope asks, ultra-white teeth gleaming to perfection in the light. The pressed knee-length skirt and crème blouse she's in make her look more serious than this whole thing really is. You'd think she was reporting on Congress not other people's lives but alas, here she is in all of her glory.

"We're ready," Harry answers for the both of us, then squeezes my hand again reassuringly.

I nod once, with a small smile across my painted lips.