wedding buddies ↠ harry styles ✓

SIXTY THREE

Harry Styles

The coffee brewed in the coffee machine, the strong smell of it completely filling the kitchen. It was raining outside, and looked cold – colder than usual. I pulled my navy-blue dressing gown together and tied it on my stomach, my body covered in goose bumps as I only had a pair of socks and boxer briefs on underneath. A yawn escaped my lips as I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my palm, the coffee maker stopped making noises soon after and it was ready to be poured into my mug. The mug, that my girlfriend got me from America, alongside a ton of other little bits and bobs even though she said she'd only gotten me like three things.

The thought of that made me smile and also dizzy, though I blamed the alcohol for that.

With the steaming mug of coffee in my hand, I turned on the floor heating and the heating in the house. If I was cold, I knew for a fact that my girl will be saying how she's freezing her tits off as soon as she'll be out of bed. Once I was sitting down in front of the TV and turned it on, my phone began ringing, obnoxiously loud.

With a sigh, I accepted the call. "Hello, Caitlin."

"Good morning, sunshine," she greeted me, her voice dripping from sarcasm. It wasn't exactly how I imagined the first conversation of the day going but hey ho. "Hope last night was worth it."

"Yes, it was worth it," I replied. I sipped on my coffee, the bitter taste sliding down my throat and then lingering on my tongue after.

"The paparazzi thought so, too," she told me as a matter of fact. Though, I wasn't really arsed if I had to be honest. The paparazzi always ate up all the shit I did, whether it was bad or good. "I made a few phone calls this past week, as you know – or at least I hope that you do. Interviews are set up and ready to roll, starting on Monday."

"Great news," I mumbled, my lips on the edge of my mug. I lifted it a little and the hot liquid filled my mouth which I then swallowed. "Is that all you wanted to tell me?"

"That girlfriend of yours..."

"What about her?" I asked, my eyebrows pulled together in confusion and also out of curiosity.

"She's going to have to give an interview with you. That is if she's planning on being with you for longer than I think she will."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I let out a dry chuckle, though I certainly did not find it amusing when she tried to accuse Carrington of whatever she thought she was trying to get out of being with me. "Also, why would she need to give an interview with me?"

"She is with you, living the life you live. People will want to know more of her whether she likes it or not," she explained. "I did a little research on her, way back-,"

"Caitlin, seriously?" I asked. A sigh left my mouth as I leaned my head back on the couch.

"I had to since you didn't tell me anything about her. My job, as your manager, requires me to ensure that your career is growing and you can be as successful as possible. You being in a relationship should not matter to me, however, because of the situation you are in, meaning all the media and fan attention you get, I have to make sure that you don't do or get involved with anything or anyone problematic."

"I know how to behave, I'm twenty-five years old, for Godness sake!" I groaned.

"Yeah, well, I'm still your manager, and I have been for a while now. You do as I say with a little input from you, and we all live happily ever after."

"I thought of getting a new manager so many times," I wondered loudly.

"And you never do," she laughed. "I know how much you hate me, Harry. And the way I always butt my nose into your business. But let's be real here. If it wasn't for me and my amazing skills at being a manager, you probably wouldn't be working on an entire line with Gucci. Correct me if I'm wrong, though."