One Direction Imagines and Preferences

Your Friend Uses You To Get To Him BSM Harry

Picking at her food, Y/n looks around the kitchen table without lifting her head. She knew this topic would arise again, of course it would. There was no backing out of the topic.
She finally sighs, sick of the question being asked millions of times by her family.
"I just don't want a Sweet 16. Okay? I just don't." She mumbles, twisting her spoon upon her plate.
"Why don't you want a Sweet 16, Y/n? You only turn 16 once, you can't make it up!" Gemma screeches, dropping the fork held in her hands onto the plate.
"I know" Y/n shrugs, "I just don't want one."
Even though Y/n said it so casually, she really does want a Sweet 16. She always wanted one. She grew up planning out every bit of her Sweet 16, where it would be, how nice she would dress, all of her friends there. But the truth was, being Harry Styles' little sister caused a lot of fake friendships. Being in highschool, Y/n is surrounded by 15 year old fangirls for One Direction, and they would always use her to get to Harry.
She didn't mind not having friends, it was definitely better than having fake ones. She's fine with just her family, but she does want someone to have a good sleepover with time to time. Or someone to tell everything to. It was hard not to have anybody like her for who she is.
"Being your older brother, I would like to say that I really want you to have the best Sweet 16 you could ever imagine." Harry smiles, taking a bite out of his potatoes.
She sighs again, moving the food upon her plate with her spoon. Her temple was being held up by her fist, implying she is done with this conversation. It'll depress her if it doesn't end.
"Baby," Anne whispers, "I really thought you wanted one."
"You know what mum, but I don't. Okay?! I do not want a Sweet 16! I don't want anything to do with a Sweet 16! Don't you understand that?!" Y/n yells, slamming the table with the side of her fist, finally reaching her breaking point.
If someone else mentions it, she will break something.
Everyone at the table flinches, their mouth agape at her sudden out burst. She's never one to yell, much less punch a table, so they all knew instantly that there was something a lot deeper than what she claims.
"But you have Clair, and Tiffany and Courtney, and you have us. We don't need something big, what about I take you and your friends out to London, right in the heart of it?" Anne suggests.
Y/n can't keep it in any longer. Her eyes become glossy, and she swears her heart is beating faster than any other time before.
"Yeah, mum. That'd be fantastic. Take me to London. Just me, because I don't have any friends. Claire, Tiffany and Courtney? They aren't my friends anymore." She frowns.
Gemma quickly reaches over to Y/n, placing her hand softly on her back, rubbing the skin soothingly.
Y/n knows it's her way of saying sorry.
"Awe, sissy. I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," Y/n groans, "this happens all the time. This isn't anything new."
Harry looks concerned at his baby sister. Nobody should be use to losing people, especially best friends.
"Why's that, Y/n?" Harry asks.
Y/n gives him a look, a look of hatred and frustration.
"Well," Y/n sighs, placing her hands on the surface of the table so she can stand up. She shakes her head, closing her eyes slowly, "I was born your sister."
The entire room starts to spin, a clang on Harry's chest squeezing against him, because he knows now. He knows why she didn't want a Sweet 16-because she couldn't.
"Great." Harry mumbles, placing his head in his hands.
"She didn't mean that, Harry. You have nothing to do with it. She's just mad." Gemma says quietly.
He shakes his head, rubbing his hands along his face in frustration. Sighing, he slumps against his chair, stiring his food lazily along his plate.
"She did mean it. I'm famous. I'm in a damn boyband, girls her age like us. They're probaby-shit-I can't believe we never thought about this."
He squeezes his eyes shut, fingers clenching around the metal of his spoon.
Anne gasps, her hand slightly touching her heart, "You're not saying people u-use her, right? Not my baby."
Harry rubs his eyes, his jaw clenching just thinking about how bad he's making her school life.
"I have to fix this" he whispers to himself, sliding his chair across the floor, causing a high pitched screech to echo throughout the room.
"Y/n?" Harry whispers, lighting knocking on her door with two knuckles.
"It's open" he hears her mumble.
Cracking open the door at first, Harry can tell she had been crying, but not too much. Her eyes were red and glossy, but her skin wasn't red, and her voice wasn't scratchy like they usually are when she's severely upset.
She's looking out the window, the soft sound of music playing in her room. Her knees are up to her chest, a pillow laying on top to place her chin comfortably on it.
"Hey" he says softlt, taking a seat on the other side of her windo bed.
"Hi." She whispers.
"Look I-"
"It's not your fault, Harry. Not at all. I'm sorry I blamed it on you."
"But it is my fault. It's all of our faults. We never noticed what would happen if you went to public school, we never thought of all the horrible things."
Y/n shrugs, "I only have two more years. I'll survive."
Harry smiles slightly, placing his hand ontop of hers. He has to do something to make it up to her. He wants her to have a Sweet 16 no matter what, something better than all of her fake friends.
"Lets go to New York" Harry suggests, knowing that it has always the place she wanted to go. Ever since she was a litfle kid.
Her eyes light up, her mouth dropping wide, stunned at the idea.
"W-what?"
"I don't care if you don't want a Sweet 16. I'll give you a full week off of school and we all go to New York. Right in the center of the city."
"H-Harry, that's so-so-so much money and so much time I don't-"
"No. We are going to go to New York City. I care for you, I'll do it."
Tears of excitement start to pile in her eyes, and she quickly throws herself in her brother's arms. She squeezes him tight, smiling against the fabric on his shoulder.
"I am so lucky to have you as a brother. I love you so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you."
Harry smiles, arms perminately around her back, his thumb rubbing right against her spine.
"Anything for you, my sweet sister. Hapy birthday."