More Than This

Chapter 2: Into the World of Styles

(A/N): The words in italics and quotation marks are the main character's thoughts to herself. I tried to make this chapter longer to make up for the first; hope you enjoy it (:

-------------

Chapter 2: Into the World of Styles:

"My body guards are on their way! Let's go inside Starbucks for now." I glanced back at the curly-haired boy who got up from his position, revealing his ridiculously tall height comparing to my pretty short 5' and 4", putting his right hand on my right shoulder leading me in front of him before the mob got to us; but unfortunately, we didn't make it inside the building on time. Right when I attempted to yank the door open- just getting it to extend a few inches wide- the teenage girls pushed us against it causing the door to slam shut. Harry towered his bulked up body over my small, weak one, protecting me from getting hurt from the mad fans. I thought of how many girls around the world would like that to happen to them. "Great. I just got to this city a few hours ago and I'm already hated by this crazy 'fandom'". I know they'd be overwhelmed if they were in my place, but I was absolutely dispassionate about this whole thing, although it was "sweet" of him to do it. But who knows, maybe it's how he plays the game..

We stood in torture for a few moments- Harry posing for quick pictures with some fans- before a big guy with a Walkie-Talkie showed up from inside the place and opened the door for us-- for Harry. He had to push intensely contrary to the cluster of people where me and Harry stood, pulling Harry in, leaving me alone to get killed. I was formerly feeling people pull on my arm and some on my hand, noticing some of the trashy, hurtful words those girls threw at me, like: "attention whore" and "you want him all for yourself," when Harry promptly clutched my little hands and pulled me in, as well.

I let out a little laugh thinking about how much I even hated that guy and somehow ended up saving him-and his bones-from his own fans, but I really felt like crying. I already felt insecure and those girls' insults won't be helping me much. I now wanted to go home, away from the spotlight. "I wonder if the Paparazzi have been able to catch a photo of me, yet. Let's see what they have say about this," I thought. I sighed, inhaling the fresh aroma of caramel and coffee from the cold air.

I looked back at the door, where all the noise was coming from, noticing one of the security guards still standing at the door, blocking the teenagers from coming into the coffee place. "This chaos is too much for my normal, average self to handle," I thought to myself, with uneasiness. "I hated the spotlight". I immediately started regretting helping Harry out; "what's in it for me, anyway?"

Next, another body guard showed up with like 3 other security guards and started babbling things to me that I couldn't make out in the small, noisy place. Then it hit me they were trying to get me out. But before they laid hands on me or went any further, the famous singer gave them a quick explanation of what had happened earlier, barely audible in between the yelling of other people outside.

*****

Within a few minutes of the same riot still going on, the tired multitude of little girls and teenagers started leaving, hopelessly. I was surprised most of them left almost instantly, but I guess all that fan-girling and moving got them worn out. After all the girls were gone, the security warned us not to hang in there for a long time since the "Paparazzi" and other fans are still going to come look for us. "Us? Since when have I become 'important' to society? It's all this kid's fault. Wasn't he supposed to be out of the airport late, anyway?" The body guards made their way to a far-away table to wait on Harry, and then I decided to ask him:

"How come you're out of the airport so early? And why aren't you with the other boys?" I asked suddenly, catching the immediate attention of the green-eyed celebrity sitting across from me on the small table.