The Devil Wears Gucci - Larry Stylinson

1. Clothes, shoes, diamond rings

Harry woke up two minutes before the alarm on his phone went off. He knew he didn't have to set an alarm because he always woke up around eight a.m. However, he definitely did not want to be late today.

He spent his couple of extra minutes in bed; curling his toes and allowing himself to enjoy the warmth of his bed. When the alarm officially announced eight o'clock on the dot, he got up.

After showering, he got dressed with the outfit he had carefully chosen three days before: khaki chinos, white convers and a neatly ironed plaid shirt. He let his curls air-dry and swept them to the side. He had thought about doing his hair differently, but he didn't want to risk his first impression. He guessed the same hairdo he had worn since... well, forever, was a safe choice.

Harry was pleased when he looked at himself in the mirror. He looked professional but not boring. Maybe the convers were too informal, but he didn't have any dress shoes, anyway. As a journalist, his style did not mean much to him.

Once in the kitchen, he loaded the toaster twice. He also prepared two teas: one in his favourite mug, the other one in Ed's thermos. As he ate his toast with peanut butter, his flatmate, Ed, came rushing into the kitchen.

"Thanks so much, mate," he said as he grabbed the toast, that had jam spread on them, and his thermos.

"No problem," Harry answered calmly.

"You're the best," Ed replied and left the kitchen.

Just before leaving the flat, Harry heard Ed yelled, "Good luck today!"

Harry smiled and finished his small breakfast.

Ed was a high school friend of Harry's. They went separate ways after graduation, but then crossed paths again, little less than a month ago, when Harry moved to London after graduating from university.

Today was Harry's first job-interview since he arrived to London. To be honest, he wasn't an expert on the field but he wanted to give it a try. After all, how hard could it be working at a magazine? Yes, it was a fashion magazine, but even fashion magazines needed journalists. Right? Plus, he needed the job. He wanted to stop being a burden to his mother, who had been paying for Harry's living so far.

Harry had some time to spare, so he cleaned the small kitchen. He tidied up the living room as well. Their flat wasn't very big, but it was located in downtown London and the rent wasn't exorbitantly high.

After washing his teeth, he grabbed his favourite red back-pack, containing his resume, and left his place.

It was a five-block walk to the address he was given. And once he was there, he realized it probably was the tallest building he had ever entered to. The lift was bright and fancy, and he pressed the button for the floor 50 once he cleaned the sweat from his hands.

When the lift arrived, the doors revealed a bright place with crystal doors and big windows. Behind the front desk, on the wall, there were big, steel letters that spelled the name of the magazine: RUNWAY.

Harry addressed the lady behind it, "Hi, I have an appointment with Liam Payne. My name is Har..."

Before he could finish, he heard "Harry Styles?"

"Yeah?" Harry saw a young man with brown eyes and short, brunet hair on one end of the main hall.

"Is this a prank from human resources or what?" he curtly asked.

"Er..."

"I'm Liam," He forced a smile, "Nice to meet you. Follow me,"

Since Liam had already turned around and started walking, Harry quickly made his way next to him.