The Photographer

Chapter 1: The Assignment

The next morning, Harry woke up feeling cheerful and energetic. He stretched and started his morning routine. He packed his one suitcase, grabbed his camera and then went out to his van. Harry looked up to the sky. Ah, what a beautiful morning. He thought, taking a deep breath. Harry climbed into his van and turned on the music player. The first chords of the song Eyes On Fire by Blue Foundation echoed through the van. With a smile Harry crank up the car and pulled off.

He followed the robotic female voice of his GPS to the location of the photo shoot. After a 20 minute drive, Harry arrived at a tall, glass building. The building was wide at the bottom, getting slightly smaller as it rose up into a dome shape. What an interesting design. Harry thought. He climbed out of his van with the camera and all the needed equipment. With a deep intake of breath he went inside.

When he went in, a red-haired woman sat behind a desk. She was blowing onto her equally red nails, she'd obviously just painted. She also was chewing gum quite obnoxiously. Harry sighed and walked up to the desk. "Er, Hello Ma'am." He said with a slight smile. The redhead looked up, clearly charmed by his looks.

"Yes Sir, may I help you?" She said while somehow still chewing the gum. She returned his smile. The woman obviously liked him.

Ignoring her looks he continued speaking. "My name is Harry Styles. I'm a photographer, here to photograph One Direction. Their manager Burt Green called me for the job."

The redhead turned to her computer and her fingers moved rapidly across the keyboard. "Yes, yes. I see the appointment Mr.Styles." She turned her attention back to Harry. "Take the lift up to floor 10. Then go to room 3a." She smiled. Her teeth looked like perfectly squared pieces of gum.

Harry thanked her and quickly stalked his way to the lift. He was glad to be rid of the presence of the redhead. He gave her bad vibes. Pressing the button to open the lift doors, he stepped in. Then he pressed the 10 button and waited patiently as he ascended to the floor. Harry hummed a tune to an unknown song as the lift creeped it's way steadily to floor 10. Soon, the doors opened to a hall lined with grey carpet flecked with red. Tan walls with many awards hung on them beckoned Harry forward. Harry stepped out of the lift and headed down to room 3a.

Harry finally reached the room, he knocked on the door. After about 30 seconds the door opened to reveal a stout man with white hair and very, very, bushy eyebrows. The mans plump face stretched into a smile. "You must be Harry, right? I'm Burt Green." The man stepped back to let Harry in.

"Yes Sir, I am." Harry stepped into the room. The room had dark, red carpet and white walls with a dark wood paneling. Two black couches faced each other with a small coffee table in the middle. On the coffee table sat 6 teacups and a kettle.

Burt closed the door behind Harry. "Sorry, the boys are a little late. You know how these young Boybands are. Always horsing around, never getting anywhere on time." The man chuckled with a wave of his hand like he was dismissing someone who wasn't there. "Anyway, would you like some tea? It's black." He said gesturing to the coffee table.

Harry nodded. Even though he had no other plans that day, he still was irritated at the fact that the band was late. He smiled regardless of his emotions . "That's fine Mr.Green. I can wait. Sure, I'll have some tea. Blacks my favorite."

Burt chuckled. "My hair may be white but I'm not that old. Call me Burt, Mr.Green is my father. I have some work to do in my office, you make yourself at home until the boys come." With that he exited the room.

Harry sighed. I hope they aren't irritating. Harry thought as he poured himself some tea. He relaxed on the couch and sighed. He decided to scroll through his emails as he sipped his tea. Harry had nothing too important. Some offer for a discount oil change, a few McDonalds coupons. Nothing but your standard emails. After about 10 minutes, the door opened.

"Oi, mate! That wasn't funny! Ya could've made me break my neck!" A thick Irish voice sounded. "Yea, well I didn't did I?" Replied a light, but masculine voice. Two boys stumbled in hitting each other playfully. One was a blonde with an enormous smile on his face. The other was short, with brown feathery hair and crinkles by his smiling eyes. "What am I going to do with you boys?" Replied a taller boy, as he walked in. He too had dark hair, his eyes looked closed as he smiled.

Harry sat down his tea cup and stood. This should be fun. He thought as he cleared his throat. The boys stopped horsing around and looked at the taller male. A polite smile spread across their faces. "You must be the photographer, yeah?" Said the male with the feathery hair.

Harry returned the smile. "Yes, I'm Harry. The Photographer."