Harry Styles: Real Person [BOOK ONE]

Chapter One: The Club

Harry Styles approached a girl at the bar.

He came to this club often. Often enough that he knew the manager personally and the manager knew that when he was coming, all young females and paparazzi-type people needed to be put to the back of the line until he had left, just in case. Harry preferred to drink alone and without the screaming of hormonal teenagers or flashing of light bulbs.

But this girl at the bar was very obviously neither a fan nor paparazzi. He knew this for a fact.

The girl had still had her jacket on and her curly brown hair tucked in, as if she was ready to bolt out the door at any moment. She put her purse on the seat to her right and angled her legs to left to make it clear she didn’t want any company. As Harry walked up behind her he noticed that she was writing something in a notebook. He took a breath and put on his best smirk before tapping her shoulder.

She turned around and looked at him with surprise and questioning. She had large, full lips that, when he saw them, confirmed what he already knew.

“Hello!” he said, making his voice deeper, as if he needed any help in that department, “can I buy you a drink?”

“Um, no. I’m good thanks” she said raising her eyebrows and gesturing at the full glass in front of her. Harry eyed the glass; it had a cherry in it. The bartender only put cherries in non-alcoholic drinks.

“Oh, come on. That’s no fun. Why don’t I get you something else? A martini maybe? You look like a dirty martini girl” Harry said, making a show of eying her up and down before smirking once again.

The girl rolled her eyes and turned so that she was completely facing Harry. Harry got a strong sense of hostility from her. “Ok, listen,” she said, “I don’t know what you think is going to happen here, but you should probably give up now before you really embarrass yourself.”

Harry was taken aback. Partially because he realized that the girl had an American accent, and partially because he hadn’t expected that to happen. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh please,” she said, crossing her arms defensively, “I noticed how the guy outside was little so little girls in, I’m guessing that has something to do with the fact that you’re here, but just I don’t know why you think that out of the few females in here that I’m the one you’re going to hook up with tonight.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, too stunned to speak.

“What? You don’t think that I know who you are? I’ve seen you in magazines, in newspapers. I know that the type of girl you go for is one of those,” she pointed to a tall, very attractive blonde girl in black dress that looked more like swimsuit talking to a man on the other side of the bar but obviously staring Harry down, “so maybe you should go try your luck with her instead of wasting my time.”

Harry cleared his throat, willing himself to speak. “How do you know that’s why I came over to talk to you?”

“Because,” she said matter-of-factly, “you thought for some reason that I would be the type of girl who would want to hook up with you tonight. You wouldn’t have come over here if you thought there was any way I would’ve turned you down, because that would ruin your image right? Something about me made you think that I was the type of girl who would sleep with you before even telling you my name. Which you still don’t even know, by the way. So what is it? What about me made you think I’m that girl?”

Harry was stunned into silence once again. He figured that this girl would be hard, but not this hard. But he wasn’t giving up yet. He had to clear his throat again, feeling her big brown eyes glaring into his, before he managed to blurt out, “Your lips-“