fight for control ↠ harry styles [b1] ✓

CHAPTER 4

Renleigh Kensington

Interviews were weird.

I always thought they were set out for celebrities so that they could interact with their fans, promote their movies or songs and whatever else. I didn't fit into any of those categories as a CEO of a company. What did I have to promote? I didn't have the clothes with me that I designed or worked on with other people. That wasn't the way I did business.

I wasn't a celebrity. I was a normal person, working, sometimes nine till five, other times for only an hour a day.

Nah, I'm messing.

I was a proper head in the game boss. I never slacked. If I found myself in that situation, I went harder on myself – I did extra work: I stayed later, I planned further into the future. There was no way my company would ever go downhill.

Well, unless an unexpected death wanted to crawl up my back and decided to take me. Then again, there was little to no chance of that happening with Danielle always being around. She would scare it right away.

But like I mentioned – interviews were weird.

For me, anyway.

It was stupid as well. No one told me – or my assistant – who would be on the show with me so I couldn't even prepare my facial expressions that would look appropriate for when I'd have to look interested. All that they sent through was that I wasn't going to be on my own with the interviewer.

"Are you going to keep the blazer on?" one of the makeup people who worked at the studio asked. I just sat there and minded my business as my finger scrolled through the social media app that was opened. My eyes slowly glanced up the person, her all black outfit made mine seem very out there and rich in colour.

"Yes," I replied simply. There was barely any emotion behind my voice which made me seem like a cold bitch although that was not my intention at all. She quickly nodded then hurried away so with a small sigh straight out of my lips, my head turned back down.

"Renleigh, they said the show is about to start," my assistant popped up this time. My right leg was crossed over my left as I picked off the fluff of my yellow-y-mustard-y dress pants. They were high waisted so they hid most of my stomach which was covered by a black bodysuit. It had a very daring V cut, it went down all the way to the band of my trousers and they showed a bit of my boobs. The two buttons on the blazer were black so those matched my top and my nails. And my clutch.

"Alright. Let's get on with it," I placed my phone in the bag then gave it to Danielle. I placed my feet on the floor as my hands pushed me up from the seat then I turned around to look in the mirror. My hair was in a low-bun, I had a middle parting and two strands of hair framed my face. The makeup – that I didn't do myself because I was a useless piece of shit when it came to this part of getting ready – was much more than what was piled on my face on a day to day basis but it still looked snatched. With all the camera and studio lights and whatsoever it was crucial they hid all my undereye bags and blemishes.

I didn't wish to see them again on social media outlets and in newspapers. Well, that is if they ever made it out there. I never looked for that kind of stuff.

Like mentioned before, I wasn't a celebrity. I didn't think of myself as one. Therefore, there was no need for me to be all over social media. Unless my business was promoted.

"How do I look?" I questioned.

"Show your teeth," Danielle asked so I did. "Look up," she instructed so I moved my head back a little. "Ok. You're in the clear, Miss Kensington."