fight for control ↠ harry styles [b1] ✓

CHAPTER 5

Harry Styles

Niall's event was today and to say the least, I was excited for him. This was one of the biggest things he had done throughout his career and I was extremely proud of him. This idea of his had been on his mind for quite some time now, he talked about it a great amount, but never actually pulled through with it.

He simply didn't feel like he could do it then something clicked in him.

Nevertheless, it was today. And it was going to be amazing.

The press had already arrived quite early, ready to film everything. There was so much buzz around this and him which was lovely. Niall was one of the most hardworking people I had known – also one of the least twatty friends of mine. Perhaps he was the only normal one.

For the special occasion, I whipped out one of my own suits. It was a purple one with golden designs on it, custom made for myself. Usually, if I liked my pieces a little too much, I went as far as creating one for my own needs. I found that to be one of the best ways to promote my work as well. With that suit, I wore a white shirt and a pair of boots that reflected golden when the light hit them. My nails were painted black and my rings – as per usual – were comfortably wrapped around my fingers.

I started the event, which was nice. I liked to be the centre of attention and felt as though I deserved to be there. Everything honestly went fine up until the part where Kensington's line was due on the runway. Don't get me wrong, there was nothing bad about her being so confident and sure in her work, I just felt little under her stare sometimes. I truly did believe that others had those emotions inside them when she was around, too.

She wore trousers in a brown colour with an A shaped leg which somewhat kept her open toed heels hidden. The material of the bottoms crawled around the middle of her body tightly along with a branded, black coloured belt. She wore a black blouse that had three quarter length sleeves and a deep V cut cleavage. Golden jewellery decorated her exposed chest as well as her wrists and fingers. Her brown hair was let down and curled nicely as it completed her look.

She looked professional and up to standard. She gave off the vibe that she held power and was extremely strict. She almost looked like she was unapproachable – which probably was her intention.

One more thing that I noticed – which I didn't want to voice to anyone, barely even wanted to admit it to myself – was to do with her overall look. Not fit wise. More so body wise. I genuinely wasn't one to be overly worried about people who I didn't care for, yet something deep in me sent out nothing but warning signs.

I didn't ever body shame people, it was wrong to do. And I didn't shame Kensington either. Simply, over the years, I had noticed how she got thinner each time we crossed paths.

We were not friends – not even acquaintances. Not business partners. Simply each other's competition. There was nothing I knew about her, other than information that was out in the public which honestly wasn't all that much. She could have been just going through a rough patch or whatever which resulted in affecting her health – if she had problems.

Who was I to say she had problems? Who was I to 'detect' she was losing weight? For all I knew, that may have had been her goal.

Not that it should have mattered to me. Like mentioned before: we were not friends, we were not acquaintances, we were not business partners. Her as a person shouldn't have mattered to me and it didn't.

I just noticed that about her.

Then suddenly, a nudge to my side caused me to snatch my eyes away from her and look to the side.