The Rockstar Next Door (h.s)

"I'm not a fucking groupie for god's sake, I have a signed contract proving that I'm your damn neighbor," I hissed, keeping my arms firmly onto my chest as if his intimating eyes weren't already enough to make me feel little. Harry arched his brow, a sly - but playful grin lingering on his face.

"Bullshit, you're either Group A groupie or Group B groupie. Group A-"

"Excuse me?"

"Listen - Group A is the kind of groupies that stalk us everywhere we go, places we eat, and even people we hang out with. And Group B is the kind of groupies that pretend they don't know who we are, and try acting all mysterious and special towards us but we all know it's an act and they just want us to love them." Harry snorted.

I rolled my eyes, in utter shock that the band across from us is gonna be a pain in the ass the whole time here.

"Oh Styles, I'll never fall for you," I announced, earning an underlying smile from him.

"Yeah, we'll see about that."

***

Elena moved to LA with her best friend to not just finish college but to finally write a new chapter in her life. Harry Styles, the lead singer (with daddy issues) of the uprising band The Walking Daydreams, also happens to be the asshole living across the hall.

Never in her life did Elena think she would run into the big bad Styles, let alone live right across the hall from him. Living across the band is exactly what her conservative parents warned her about - never to associate with people that either has piercings, tattoos, or a bad mouth.

Except that's the holy trinity of what makes Harry Styles.

***