loving you feels so right

2.

He knows exactly what this meeting is for, there's been multiple meetings for this- and quite frankly he's bored of them. Always the same scolding's and arguments that can be heard all throughout the building. Nothing unusual about that.

Harry groaned as he read the headlines of the magazines placed in front of him, nearly every single one had him on the front cover with some sort of bullshit line above or below it. He was getting just as sick as what his management was. Well if you could call them management, they're more like monkeys in suits- cant control or run a company for shit.

He often wonders, why did he get put with the shit management? why did they become arseholes whenever he had a good time? He's only just turned 23, who wants to have management taking control of their lives? Harry surely doesn't. There's always that little voice in his head telling him to leave, but he knows he can't- well not until his contract ends, he's got Liam's record label for back-up once he leaves.

"Please explain yourself Styles" The curly haired lad sighed, its how they always start.

"What's there to explain?" He replied disinterested.

"Why the hell are you everywhere and on every magazine? You're receiving bad press all of the time, not only is it having a bad affect on you, but, its also having a bad affect on the company." One of the men- Norman he thinks, snapped. Harry doesn't make it his job to remember unimportant people's names. Just usually listens to their orders, plans and gets on with it.

"I don't get what I'm doing wrong though?"

"Sleeping with different men and women all of the time and getting papped is what you are doing wrong!"

"What do you expect me to do?! I'm a 23 year old man, still wanting to have a good time after working my arse off every single fucking day!" He seethed, the anger running through his veins was making him shake, his fists were clenched by his side.

"You aren't a man, you're still a boy as far as your maturity levels are concerned. You may work your arse off all day but your womanizer persona sure doesn't make you look like a successful solo artist."

"I still want to have a fucking life! You literally dictate every single little thing I want to do or what I do."

"That's where you're wrong Harry. We don't dictate what you do, but we will be now." Norman smirked, the sinister look in his eyes would cause anyone to cower away. Harry began to worry, his anger slowly seeping out of his body.

"What could you possibly mean by that?" He asked shakily, heart hammering against his chest in anticipation.

A stack of papers were chucked into his direction, at last 20 pages scribed with ink. He takes a minute to deal with the anxiety flowing through him, the previous anger completely forgotten about.

"If you know what's best for you, you'll read and sign. You understand?"