Harry styles prompts

Famous {3}

A/N: For whatever reason, I was thinking of Marilyn Monroe earlier. And so I wrote Harry just as I would've written her.

Summary: Harry is famous. What a wonderful thing.

Pairing: Fionn Whitehead and Harry Styles

Harry let out a small and shaky breath as he looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was fluffier than usual, all over the place and in desperate need of a good washing. His eyes were dull and dead and nothing like they used to be as dark bags formed under them. His lips were pressed together tightly, a large frown etched on his face. His face was skinny. Ugly, or so he thought. He hated everything that he saw staring back at him. This person wasn't him. This person represented two things; Everything that he hated and everything that everyone else wanted out of him.

The fans were amazing. They were the reason he kept going. The reason he performed in such shit conditions, the reason he sat through hours of interviews being questioned about the same damn things over and over again. The reason he spent hours in the studio, some days having it pay off and some days having it be pointless because nothing even came out of it. The reason he could deal with being away from his family for such long periods of time. The reason he kept his mouth shut when the tabloids were making up another rumor that made him look like a womanizing brat and when the paparazzi thought it'd be okay to stalk him and take pictures of him even when he was feeling so low.

Performing was so fun most times. He could connect with his fans and spend two hours on stage where he belonged. He could sing his heart out which is what he loved to do. He could sing his own songs, the one he created from nothing but experience and creativity. He could even sing his favorite songs from other artists! He could forget his problems for just a few hours and he could focus on one of the single most important things in the world to him: Music.

The gifts, HA! They were great. People sending him things just because they wanted his attention, they wanted him to notice them. People sending him things with hopes that he'd promote the product. People sending him things in hopes of getting famous. It was annoying and amusing all in one.

The money was great as well. He'd tried in the past to pretend that it didn't matter to him, that he could do without it, but that was simply a lie. Being a millionaire at the age of 23 isn't on his complaint list and never will be. Being able to buy whatever he wants whenever he wants isn't a terrible feeling. Being able to throw cash into one charity after another definitely isn't a bad feeling. Impressing people with his expensive Gucci outfits and his many fancy cars and his one of a kind furniture- It was simply spectacular.

Being a role model for so many people, well that'd always been a dream of his. Having your words mean so much to so many people...That's amazing. A blessing and a curse, really. Your every word means something. Words are so easy to twist...Words can be interpreted in so many different ways. It's so easy to overthink every little thing that you say when you've got that kind of power under your belt, but what's worse is that it will always be so much easier to underthink.

The attention could be hell at times but it was also comforting. The followers on all the social media, the articles being written about him every second, which he read when he was feeling bored. Having fans was incredible. Being loved by strangers was incredible. Making new friends was such fun. Everybody wants to be known. They want their name known, they want their art to be shown to the world, they want people to see them. Even Harry himself had wanted that! The only problem with this, though, is that they don't really see him. They see a version of himself that even he doesn't like to see. The one he's forced to see when he looks in the mirror nowadays.