When Harry Met Hannah

Chapter Four: Hannah

There are many different types of angry that people feel for various reasons. There is the I'm not crying because I'm sad kind of angry where of course you cry because you're so mad there is just no other way for your anger to come out. Then there's I'm going to hit you if you don't leave right now, which of course would be quite a few steps above crying-angry. Then you have the Oh well, I'm mad but whatever anger. Where yeah, you're mad but you talk it out and move one. Hannah had been all of these types of angry at one point in her life or another. But today, it was hitting mad. Just a few short moments ago, Hannah had stormed out of the meeting with the boys from One Direction, Ford, Avery, and Clark and marched herself right to her office where she calmly closed the door and flopped down in her chair where, she was pretty sure, she could feel the smoke rising off of her head like a female version of Hades in Hercules. The meeting had begun wonderfully. Hannah had eventually found her feet and trailed in behind Harry, closing the door and offering each gentleman a refreshment while Clark got the visual presentation running. As they had previously agreed, he'd left the presentation as it was and Hannah could tell each man was enraptured with Clark as he presented his ideas. Ford's overall goal was to capture the life story of each band member in a memoir. Ford argued that while "many tenn bob magazines have penned your favorite color and underwear preference, they have not published the personal story. The struggle, the dreams, the life of you boys. That's what I want to do." Ford enunciated his words with a light pound of his fist on the table.

"Correct Mr. Ford. We also have numerous photographers that we can contact to include photos of you now. Different than the usual band pose. Something more candid and real. By signing this deal, you would be presenting yourself to your audience on a much more human, touchable level. Something that, until now, we haven't seen from your brand." Clark palmed the clicker to the projector and paced around the table, looking each member in the eye. "Your fans adore who you are as a group and each of you has a following for various reasons. We would like to give each of your fan base something they can tangibly have of you and what better way to do that than through your own memoir?"

"So, let me get this straight." Niall leaned forward on his elbows," each of us would need to conduct a different interview with you, Ford, and then you will turn that product into a book. Each of us gets our own? Not one huge, OneD book, but an individual memoir focused on us one at a time?"

Hannah had perched herself in the back of the conference room in one of the spare chairs. Niall, Louis, and Liam all looked to Ford for an answer. Harry, Hannah noticed was slumped down in his chair playing on his phone. If he had any clue what was happening in the meeting Hannah surely doubted it.

Ford looked to Clark for confirmation before he spoke. "My plan is to conduct interviews with you, along with your friends and family. Again, I want this to be as authentic as possible. We would use photos of you as a child all the way up to who you are today. Interviews would be scheduled around your time and availability of course. But the end product would be four separate books, with four separate release dates, yes."

Niall leaned back and smiled toward Liam and Louis. "I like it mates, what do you think?" Louis and Liam also voiced their agreeance and began flipping through the papers in front of them. Hannah glanced at Clark to see him smiling and Ford leaned back in his chair conferring with Mr. Avery about availability and travel needs. Harry continued to stare down at his phone.

"Harry," Liam prodded, "what do you think?" All eyes fell on Harry, who continued to play on his phone. "Harry," Liam prompted once more. This time

Harry looked up with a deadpan expression, "No." The word was muttered so softly that Hannah barely heard it.

"What?" Louis asked.

"I said no," Harry repeated louder this time.

"Why not?" Niall asked, the look on his face one of pure confusion and disbelief.

"Because, I don't want someone prodding around my personal life." Harry answered unsmiling. If her were joking he sure had Hannah and his bandmates fooled. "Especially not by someone like him," Harry gestured with his phone toward Ford, "who specializes in dead American presidents and conspiracy theories."

Ford's mouth hung agape and Hannah looked from Ford to Clark who was equally shocked. Clark's eyes met Hannah's and she could see the pleading in them for her to step in and intervene. But what was she supposed to say? Do? Hannah shook her head slightly, silently telling Clark she couldn't stand up to Harry there was just no way possible. Clark's eyes widened and he paled slightly, probably realizing that it was over. Niall, Louis and Liam all sat back in their chairs silently. Hannah knew in a few moments they would make their exit and Clark would lose the deal, the author, all of it. Hannah couldn't let that happen, she had to do something. Slowly Hannah stood up and approached the front of the conference room where Clark was standing. She cleared her throat and began to speak.

"Mr. Styles, Liam, Louis, Niall. The team here at Clark and Walker want to give you the best possible experience when working with Mr. Ford. Ford is an author who is incredibly experienced at conducting interviews and digging for the truth, that's part of what makes his novels so intriguing." She had their attention now. Even Harry's eye were trained on her. She couldn't look at him for too long though, lest she forget what she was saying and make a fool of both her and Clark. She trained her eyes on the painting at the back of the room and continued going. "Truth, however, is only discovered when the holder of said truth wants it to be known. Should there be any sort of information you wish to be withheld from your memoirs, all you would need to do is let the editor know when you receive a copy of the manuscript. Because this is about you, and presenting you in the most candid light as possible, we do want to dig for details that your fans may not already know, otherwise this is a fruitless effort." At that Hannah looked pointedly at Harry, whom she knew had the most secrets to hide.

Rage sparked in his green eyes which looked as though they blazed an emerald fire.

"Fruitless?" Harry asked. He began to rub his chin pensively. "Alright then. I wouldn't want your life to be fruitless Ms. Martin, so I'll tell you what. You can write mine. You'll have your memoir of the great Harry Styles and I won't sound like I'm already in my grave when it's all said and done. How does that sound?" Harry leaned back in his chair, crossing an ankle over his knee and lacing his fingers together. A position, no doubt, that Hannah believed Harry took when he thought he had won an argument.She could see the challenge in his eyes and she was about to retort and accept his challenge when Clark chuckled, as did the other member of the band. 

"Ah, Mr. Styles, you see, Hannah is just an assistant and while she is knowledgeable of writing and her skills do exceed many here in the office, she isn't an actual author nor is she qualified for this type of project." Though true, Clark's words had stung. Hannah never considered that he thought her incapable or unqualified to be a writer. Isn't that what she was here learning to do?

Harry frowned at the expression that must have crossed over Hannah's face.

"Right, well, I don't give a damn if she's a novice or has won ten Pulitzers she is going to write mine and Ford can write for Liam, Niall and Louis. We all win that way. Otherwise we walk and you get nothing. Have your people call us when you've decided. We can work out the details then. C'mon mates, we've got a plane to catch." At that, Harry jumped out of his seat and left the conference room with a stunned Niall, Liam and Louis in tow. 

Hannah's anger grew. A novice? She has a degree in literature AND journalism! She knows how to write and she a pretty damn good writer. The fact that both Clark and Harry thought her skills laughable mad her steaming mad. Upon their exit, Clark turned to Ford asking him to stay a moment longer, while picking up the phone to call Walker, his older brother. Hannah continued to stare at the door where Harry exited. She couldn't do it. Wouldn't do it. Hannah knew he was throwing his little tantrum because he didn't want people digging into his wrap sheet. He didn't want everyone to see his dirty laundry and while many times that is just because people prefer privacy, Hannah knew that in Harry's case he was ashamed of what they would find.