off the record; harry styles

Chapter 2

My hands wouldn't move from my side. Here I stood, in front of his door. I could feel my hands start to sweat from how tightly closed they were.

I could do this. He was just another person. I didn't need to be scared of someone I hadn't even met yet.

I took a deep breath, straightened my shirt, and lifted my hand up to meet the door. I knocked a few times, my heart beating faster and faster with each rap on the door.

I could hear shuffling behind the door, signaling that he was about to open it. The lump in my throat wasn't going anywhere and my anxiety filled my whole being.

"Whoever it is, fuck off," he cursed through the door.

Had he not been expecting me? That only made things a million more times awkward.

"I-I'm here for the interview. It's Genevieve...my boss reached out with your people to–" I started to say before being interrupted.

"Stop talking." he snapped. I could he him unlock the door. It opened to reveal him.

His long dark brown hair curled to about shoulder length. His dark green eyes were swirling with hate. Tattoos littered his body. He was wearing a holey band tee with sweatpants. He was gorgeous in a way that I had never seen in a man. It almost made me step back just to admire him.

Maybe that's why girls gushed over someone like him. Seeing photos was one thing, but being face to face with him was another.

I usually never got star struck when it came to celebrities. But I would be lying if he didn't make me a little nervous. He had been on ever cover of every magazine for years.

All of this made me think though; how could someone so beautiful be filled with so much anger?

"You can speak now if that means you'll stop staring," his deep British accent rang through the room causing me to look up into his eyes.

His domineering presence filled the room. His frame towered over me in a way that made me feel insignificant. Like I was small.

"As I was saying, I'm here for the memoir. I'll be the one writing it." I tried explaining myself again.

"I'm aware of that."

"Well, where would you like me to set up–" I started to say before I was interrupted again. I guess he had a thing for doing that.

"The couch is fine," he stated pointing to the couch in his huge apartment. It was the penthouse so I should have expected it to be this nice, but it way gigantic. It was filled with large windows overlooking the city. We were partially in the clouds.

He glared at me as I stood there taking it all in. I was going to be here for however long it took for him to talk, so I might as well grow accustomed to it.

Feeling his eyes on me, I quickly shuffled to the large grey couch in the middle of the living room. As nice as the apartment was, it was littered with clothes, empty bottles and smelled of smoke.

I softly moved a shirt from the couch in order to make a spot for me to sit at. It was very uncomfortable. All the money he has, and he can't afford someone to clean the place up? I tried to ignore it and be as polite as I could.

I pulled my laptop out of my bag, placing it on the glass coffee table that was trashed with all sorts of substances. I then grabbed my phone from my pocket and went to my voice memos so I could record our conversation for later use.

"I wasn't aware that I was going to be recorded," he scoffed as he sat down on the chair across from me. His voice caused me to jump as it echoed through the room.