Best selling author Harry Styles is kind, sweet and charming. He's all someone would ever want and more.
Journalist and workaholic Nina Garcia is smart, caring and most importantly stubborn.
They formed a relationship.
Had a kid.
5 years later th...
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My daily routine was one that would never change ever since I started working for the local newspaper 3 years ago. My schedule was hectic and I was always busy which is why I'd always come home around 6 or 7- sometimes even later.
3:30 a.m: wake up and shower 3:45 a.m: slip into something professional 3:50 a.m: brush my hair 4:00 a:m: brew some coffee to-go while I wait for Genesis to look after Lenny. And by 4:15 or 4:30 a.m: I'm out the door to my job down at the Times.
Soon, it would be 5 a.m and I would sit down around as we'd pitch story ideas or anything that would interest readers all over. This was usually the time we'd either get praised for our ideas or yelled at.
"Goodmorning, we're back together for another issue. Michael, let's start with you, what'd ya got?" Editor-in-Chief Holmes said.
Holmes was a man in his 50's. Grey haired with a bald spot on top of his head, glasses, thick New Yorker accent and always tired looking with deep bags under his eyes. He was divorced with 3 grown children and without a doubt, he was intimidating. He'd made everyone in this office cry, including me. Several times, actually.
Whether your work was poorly edited, written or just plain bad, Holmes wasn't afraid to say it to your face in front of everyone and he wouldn't let you live it down once he did.
I once had to stop Harry from coming down here himself to cuss the man out.
"You can't keep letting that son of a bitch do this, Nina. It's not fair to you and I hate seeing you like this." Harry would whisper to me as he held me in his arms.
With my head in his chest, I would cry and try my best to keep quiet as Lennon was in the next room. I'd never ever want her to ever see me cry.
"I swear, I'll go down there myself and beat the shit out of him" Harry would say. "Need me to do it for you? Because I will. I promise, I will."
I had to remind him that as much as I wanted him to do so, I needed this job.
I'm just a writer, but hopefully in the future I'll be promoted to editor.
"Doctors in the downtown St. James Hospital were caught stealing thousands of drugs from the pharmacy and selling them illegally," Michael suggested from across from me. I watched as he nervously fidgeted with his hands as he pitched the rest of his ideas. His blue eyes darting back and forth between Holmes and his palms.
I watched as Holmes frowned at Michael for a few seconds before he finally spoke.
"I like the first pitch. Don't want you to write it though, you'll fuck it up" Holmes says turning towards a woman at the end of the table.
"Amy, she's yours. We'll call it 'Doctors or Drug Dealers?'" He says putting out his hands out as if he's picturing it. Amy immediately scribbles down the stolen idea. "Michael, think of somethin' else and have it to me in an hour. Your ideas are pure shit." He mumbles.
