Money is an ordinary thing for Harry Styles. He was born into it, was taught how to easily make it, and how to spend it wisely. His life has been given to him on a silver platter and he loves it. He started Songbird Studios because of it. It did so...
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"Violet! Violet! Violet!" they all shout.
I smile, standing in front of all of them. The wind pushes my hair back and the late afternoon sun shines on my face. The microphone feels heavy in my hand while I soak in everything around me. I take a moment, letting my eyes close, and will away the sounds around me. I breathe in slowly and try to immortalize this moment in my brain and senses.
I open them again and see the green in front of me. He stands against the stage, next to security. Nodding at me, reassuring me that I'm meant to be here. He smiles and I feel safe.
I look to my left and Zayn stands on the side stage, a wide smile on his face as he claps for me. My mom stands next to him, tears lining her eyes, with my dad holding her hand in his. My brother stands next to my dad, cheering and sending me a thumbs-up.
This is what I've always wanted.
"Violet! Violet! Violet!" they continue.
I smile, looking out at the crowd, and slowly raise the microphone so it rests against my lips. My eyes meet the green ones in front of me before speaking, "Are you ready to go home?"
"Get up," a voice says. "You need to go home, c'mon!"
At first, I thought that the voice was my imagination or that my dream was actually reality. But I finally open my eyes and immediately I'm met with green ones, the same ones I met in my dream, frantically looking back at me. He shakes my body lightly, jolting me out of my tiredness and urging me out of bed.
"You need to go!" he jumps out of bed, collecting clothes scattered around the room and pushing them in my direction. "You can't be here."
"What?" I manage to say, placing my hand on my pounding head and squinting at him.
"You," he begins, pausing for a second to fling my thong at my bare chest. "Are not supposed to be here. I have plans today and you need to leave."
"Right now?"
"Yes, right now!" he shouts, tugging on a pair of running shorts.
"Why? Is your wife coming home?" I joke, swinging my legs to the side and planting my feet on the floor. I look over at him to see the serious expression on his face, he's standing completely still and staring at me. Not in an 'oh wow she looks so hot naked in my bed with mascara smudged under her eyes' way, but in an 'I've been caught' way. "You're not married are you?" I exclaim, my jaw partially dropping.
"No! And even if I was, it's none of your fucking business," he snaps at me, resuming his frantic rush over to his bedroom.
"Jesus Christ, you don't have to be an asshole about it. It's just a question!" I roll my eyes, watching as he grabs a t-shirt from a drawer, pushing it over his head and flinging his silk shirt from last night at me.
