The Puppeteer (A Harry Styles FanFiction)

Chapter 1

Jacelyn's POV

I unlocked the door to my home, pushing open the golden door.

"Mother? I'm home." I say, walking into the kitchen.

"Miss?" Our servant, Nancy, says to me.

"Yes?" I say, taking the steaming hot cup of tea she has handed to me.

"Your parents are at the slave auction." She says, hurrying back to the stove to continue dinner.

"Thank you, Nancy." The slavery auction is an annual auction where the city auctions off anyone who doesn't have a home and can't pay their bills to a rich family who provides them a home in exchange for manual labor. It's sick, really. My family bought Nancy at the last auction and she has been with us ever since.

"Nancy, you can take a break. I will finish dinner." I say to the old woman. Nancy is about 59. She isn't too old but my parents make her do so much, she looks 65.

"Oh no, Miss Jacelyn. I can finish it."

"I told you to call me Jacelyn, not Miss Jacelyn. It sounds too formal." I say, walking over to the stove.

"Please, Nancy. Take a break. I promise I won't tell mother and father." She looks unsure about it, but hands over the spoon.

"Thank you, Miss Jacelyn." She says, curtsying. I roll my eyes. I hate how the servants treat me like royalty. I'm no better than the rest of them. I'm still a person like them, I just happen to be a person with more money.

"Jacelyn." I correct her. I finish dinner, putting it on a plate for each of my family members before calling Nancy back in.

"Yes, miss Jacelyn?" I groan.

"Jacelyn. Um, dinner is done. You might want to stay here, I don't want mother to know I let you take a break." She smiles slightly at me.

"Thank you... Jacelyn." I smile at her.

"Of course, Nancy."

Harry's POV

The annual slave auction. Of course, I was not the one buying the slaves. I was the one being auctioned off as a slave.

"Next we have Harry Styles." The cuffs were tight around my wrist as I walked to the stage. I stood there with my head down, not daring to look at the group of buyers all murmuring about me before me. Various numbers are shout out at me.

"3.5 million." My head shoots up at the number and my eyes roam the audience until they land on a middle aged couple. Maybe in their late 40's.

"Sold." The man says and I am led off the stage.

After about another hour of auctioning, us slaves are led to those who own us.

"Hello, Harry." The man of the couple greets me.

"Hello, Sir." I respond, bowing my head.

"I'm Aaron and this is my wife, Ana."

"Harry." She aknowledged me, a small smile.

"Well, come on now." He ushered me foward into a small, but expensive looking, black car.

The ride home was silent, except for a few questions towards me along the way.

"So, Harry. How old are you?" Ana asks me, turning to face me in her seat.

"I'm 19." I state.

"Really? Oh, wow. We have a daughter who's also 19." She says, smiling.