Oxymoron Of Us

Chapter 4

I placed my black Adidas hat on top of my favorite flannel and with a bit of force I squeezed my suitcase shut. 

I have spent the last few days doing just about what you would expect when you have three days to get ready for a life change - running around in a frenzy. Somehow I managed to fill out a stack of forms, buy the instructed cosmetic products, and say good bye to everyone I know in just three days. I don't even remember if I had a chance to sleep during it all, quite honestly. 

"Y! Your ride is here!" Mom and Melanie yelled in unison from down stairs. When they heard I was getting picked up in a limo, neither of them let the window stay unattended. 

"Coming!" I yelled, taking one last look in the mirror before I headed out. Yesterday I decided to dye my hair a bleach blonde color, and I have to say the change fit me. Might as well try something new when everything else I knew was changing. I quickly adjusted a few curls and made sure the buttons on my jean skirt were centered. I placed my only pair of expensive sunglasses on my head, took a deep breath, and descended the stairs. I have to admit, I felt a bit like Cinderella walking down the stairs to the ball. My whole family was sitting in the living room, an unheard of phenomena, watching my rag to riches transformation unfold before their very eyes. 

As soon as I reached the bottom of the stair, my mom hugged me and said, "I'm so proud of you York, I know you will kill it out there. But just remember, no matter how much recognition you get, just be yourself. Never change."

Tears welled in my eyes and I prayed to god my mascara wasn't smearing. "Thanks mom. Don't worry, I'll always be your York."

All of  a sudden a shiny limousine pulled into our small driveway. Melanie squealed and hugged me, asking again when she could visit and when she could meet Harry Styles, even though I told her one hundred times I had no clue. I slowly pulled away from her and slid out the door into the soft summer breeze. I slid my sunglasses onto my nose and walked over to the limo, which was driven by a guy in black shades, total Men in Black style. He opened the door for me, took my luggage, and that was that. 

The drive to the airport was quiet, despite the rap music blaring through the radio. Thoughts whirled through my head and I shivered with excitement, but also dread. Even though I could tell this boy was a self-centered douche bag, I still found myself wondering what he will think of me. I'm not the prettiest girl on the block, I'm not Melanie...

I shook the thought away, not knowing what to make of it. Who cares what he thinks of me? This is a job, an extremely well payed job through both money and experience. I can't be bothered to try and impress Harry; I just need to do my job to the best of my ability.

The next few hours involved Black Shade Guy and I eating lunch in silence, sitting on a plane in silence, and landing in New York in silence. I walked out of the airport, standing in awe of the city lights and tall buildings as far as the eye could see. Taxis whirred through the streets, filling the road with yellow. After waiting for a bit, one of those yellow blobs skidded to a halt in front of Black Shade Guy and I, beckoning us to hop in. 

After that near-death experience of a ride, we arrived at the hotel that Harry was to arrive at later on tonight. Black Shades Guy finally spoke, saying that the tour bus would arrive at the hotel late tomorrow morning to pick the crew up, along with Harry himself. He also handed me a room key and told me he would see me later. So with that, I headed inside.

The hotel was magnificently decorated, the type of place you'd imagine the Queen of England herself staying at. There were crystal chandeliers, people running around in full suits, and intricate wood carvings on giant pillars. The luxury didn't end in the lobby; my room had a plush feather bed, a mini fridge, a pool, and a huge TV. I double checked the room key like five times to make sure I was staying in the right room; it seemed much too fancy for a humble make-up artist like myself. 

A few hours had passed and the sun had set. I decided to chill in the pool for a bit, which was situated right next to a big window. I decided to crack open a bottle of wine; not because I was really going to drink it (I am only 19 after all) but I just thought it was fitting due to my new fancy lifestyle. I turned on the bubbler and rested my head, eyes shut. I haven't felt this relaxed in a long time. 

BANG! BANG! BANG! 

I jumped high enough to touch the moon.

"Who the hell stole my room key!?" an angry voice called from the other side of the door. 

I sprang up from the hot tub, dripping all over the floor, and grabbed the door nob. I don't know who I was expecting to see; maybe a big security guy, maybe an important official, maybe even Josh. But no, I found myself face to face with a very angry, slightly sweaty, British boy. 

I blinked, staring with a dumbstruck look on my face. 

"Well what are you waiting for bitch get out of my room!" Harry yelled. He was pulling a fancy suitcase with him. His eyes looked as though they hadn't seen sleep in awhile.

My brain finally caught up with the situation and I realized what this jerk had just said to me. 

"What the hell, why are you yelling at me for? I was given a room key by that freak with the black shades and that was that! Stop being such an asshole!" There was no way I was taking any crap, especially not from a self-absorbed pop star. 

Harry blinked, seemingly taken back from my outburst. 

"What, not used to getting yelled at? Not used to a girl not falling at your feet? Well welcome to reality, a place where assholes actually get treated the way they deserve to be treated," I said crossing my arms. I looked down and realized I was standing there in nothing but a white bikini. Harry noticed and a small smirk played on his lips.

"Well...fine. Here," Harry said, handing me a room key. "This must be yours. Just please clear out of here as soon as you can. I'm tired."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh you poor soul." I started grabbing my clothes, shoving them in my suitcase in a haughty state. What a jerk! Why couldn't he have just gone in the other room? Was he really THAT high maintenance?

I quickly pulled on a long shirt I had packed for sleep wear; I did feel admittedly a bit self conscious. Just as I turned to go, I heard a voice behind me in a guiltily soothing British accent.

"Hey wait," Harry said, grabbing my arm. "You said you got here by a guy in black shades...does that mean you're part of the crew?"

I pulled my arm away in annoyance. "What's it to you anyway? I'm going to 'get out of this room as soon as I can' now. Good bye, douche bag. It was very misfortune of me to make your acquaintance."

Just as I was about to leave, Harry grabbed my arm again. I whipped around, exasperated and tired. "What the hell---!" And just like that, the jerk kissed me, right there in the hallway.

I just about jumped away, slapping him straight across the face. "WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU? First you yell at me then you, you KISS ME? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"

Harry looked at me, looking clearly baffled by my reaction. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with YOU? I, the Harry Styles just kissed you," he said smirking at me and leaning against the door frame. "You should be honored; I don't usually do it to average sixes like yourself."

My mouth fell open. "I can't believe you fucking said that!" I usually wasn't one to swear but this was just too much. Despite my resistance, I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. "You self centered ASSHOLE! I would never want to kiss you and your songs are trash! I'm only here for the money!" I yelled, water dripping from my still wet hair. 

To my dismay, Harry chuckled, gave me a salute, and said, "see ya around, Six." His door slammed behind him and I heard the click of his lock. 

I stood frazzled in the hallway for a few seconds, a horrible feeling welling in my stomach. Maybe this opportunity wasn't going to be the butterflies and rainbows I had expected.