too young for this { harry styles }

Chapter 35.

~

Harry was carrying the two suitcases into the huge lobby of the golden looking hotel. It was literally golden.

"You can, like, look around while I deal with this," he grunted in his English accent.

I gave him a nod, trying to take the suitcase from his hand, but his grip was too tight and he was too stubborn. "Couldn't even be compassionate if I tried." I muttered, feeling his breath on my face.

He smirked. "You're correct. Now go do whatever you do."

"Whatever I do," I repeated it with ironic laughs as I walked away from Harry at the counter.

Harry was being weird. Distant even. It was like he took my advice about unloving me.

I'd love to say the hotel was normal sized because money and its expenses were still quite new to me, but unfortunately the hotel was dripping with expensive things and employees that looked like they could do anything.

In the corner of the lobby, which was basically the whole first floor, there were many men standing in suits discussing something at a table. Your usual Starbucks was behind them, along with a bunch of little shops for groceries. There was a huge glass wall 50 feet away from me, and behind that glass wall was a perfect view of a beach and an indoor pool. The pool was crowded with people of different ages and different ethnicities. The kids, who looked to be about 5 years old, made me cringe as they jumped in the pool and pushed each other's heads into the water, It reminded me too much of rehab, so I turned back to the men in their suits.

They weren't necessarily attractive, but they weren't average either. They all looked like wannabes of Tom Cruise when he was in his late twenties. They all spoke in English, but the accents varied from Greek to American to British. They must have been speaking about the trail of hotels, but I had no idea why they would in the lobby.

So official, so creepy, I couldn't help but stare at the from afar. I didn't notice a that girl with a soft brown color of hair and her grey eyes following me until it was too late to be afraid of being noticed. She was pretty, but there was something wrong with her. She wasn't fully there. I know that sounds crazy, but she didn't look to know what everything means.

She was sitting on a couch alongside the table of men talking about towels at hotels. Her eyes following my every move, I fought my urge to scream due to my short tolerance with staring and questioning.

Eventually, my eyes meeting her grey ones with only 20 feet between us, she looked away and started doing something with her bag. She was pulling out a purple iPod and headphones. I was fine.

I sauntered over to the Starbucks, still full of confusion at the strange girl. Whilst there, the woman with thick eyebrows gave me a questioning look after I ordered my coffee.

My name. She wanted to know my name.

I flushed from nerves, but felt someone's breath on my neck as I struggled to answer her.

"It's Madison. Get me a grande coffee with vanilla creamer," his fake American accent made me want to burst into laughter. "And my name's Justin."

His face held a smirk at the woman, but she eventually found herself to nod and take the credit card he had now held out for a while.

I turned on my heels with my mouth open from my disbelief at what just had happened. "Justin," I chided, "Whens the new album coming out, Justin?"

I wasn't think of Justin Bieber, though he is the most prominent Justin, besides Timberlake, that is. I was thinking of one particular Justin I remembered from before I attempted. Before everything.