Rebel Rebel |harry styles| - ongoing

ONE

David Bowie: Rebel Rebel

A/N: Hi!! If you've come here after reading Always You, welcome back! If you're new, then welcome! This story is in no way related to Always You, the characters are totally different as is the plot. Here's a bit about Essie and Harry as I see them... 

Essie

"Well Tony if I'm late then I'm late. I'm not to blame, one of your assistants took my Fujifilm X-T30 to the studio and never returned it.", I didn't like doing shoots on Saturdays and much less on sunny ones that smelt of getting lost in unfamiliar parts of Los Angeles and taking photos of murals and odd characters passing by. All areas of Los Angeles were unfamiliar to me, to be completely honest... I had many gigs in this city over the years, but I rarely stayed long enough to get familiar with it.

"Fine Essie, just hurry please. You know I hate coming off as unprofessional.", Tony wasn't my boss and he was usually particularly good about not acting like one. He was one of the first photographers I met when I started freelancing and we made a deal to refer clients to one another if we felt we weren't the best fit for the job.

I struggled a bit finding the right key to his studio, but I was in and out before you could say 'cheese'. L.A. traffic brought out the worst in me and I managed to get more colourful with my cursing every time. Fortunately, the location of today's shoot was near Tony's studio. Flashing my credentials, I ran through corridors and bumped into people trying to find my set.

"Sorry I'm late everyone. There was a mix-up with the equipment. Is everyone here?", I burst into the room filled with retro furniture and started unpacking my cameras straight away, not waiting for a response from the handful of people that turned their attention towards me.

"You must be Estee. I'm Jeff, Harry's manager. Harry's just getting dressed, he'll be out shortly.", a short man with an American accent extended his hand for me to shake.

"Essie, please. I'm not usually late to these things, but it is a Saturday, after all. Tell him to find me when he's ready, please.", Jeff nodded and disappeared behind one of the doors leading out of the set. My cameras were set, the lighting was ready, and the only thing left for me to do was play my 'good luck song'.

"Doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo. Doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo. Doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo.", Bowie's Rebel Rebel rang through the empty space and I started taking trial shots of the retro chairs and green-screens making sure the photos would come out the way I'd envisioned.

"Well that's one way to start a shoot,", a deep voice vibrated behind me, "I'm guessing you're the rebel? I'm Harry.". Startled, I set my camera down and turned to face the owner of the attractive voice.

"I go by Essie, usually, but Rebel is fine too. Would you mind sitting in that chair over there?", Harry was dressed in fishnet stockings and little heeled shoes, his entire tattoo covered chest was exposed and, even though I was no stranger to attractive men, I had trouble focusing. He sat and crossed his legs, resting both arms casually by his side. I loved working with clients that didn't need many instructions on how to act or where to turn. The best photos usually happened organically. There wasn't anything I despised more than those plastic shoots that required everything to be completely organized and every move predetermined.

"Bollocks. Gary, could you come 'ere a second, please?", something wasn't quite right with the lighting now that Harry was in his place... his body cast a harsh shadow over the wall and the lighting technician started moving the umbrellas around until we got a perfect, shadow-less, shot.