Same Mistakes (A One Direction Fanfic)

(Katrina’s P.O.V.)

I heard screams in the distance and rolled my eyes. Stupid celebrities were everywhere. I kept walking, trying to get to my room. I heard a door slam shut to the right, and yes, it was my door. I glared and opened it, looking around in anger.

There was a boy in my room with dark curly hair and emerald green eyes. He shot me a small smirk and I glared at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing in here? Get out,” I commanded. His face fell a little.

“I’m hiding,” he answered in a husky, British accent. I scoffed.

“From who?”

He laughed as if this was a joke. “Would you mind shutting the door babe, they might get in here,” he said. I felt my jaw drop in pure amazement that this guy was such a douche.

“Who do you think you are?” I asked.

“You mean you don’t know?” he asked in confusion.

“Obviously not. That would be why I’m asking, retard,” I snarled. He laughed.

“I’m Harry Styles, nice to meet you.”

“Well, Harry Styles, I suggest you get out of my room before I kick your sorry ass out,” I growled. His eyes shot up his forehead.

“Fine. I guess you have no idea who I am. I’ll give you anything to let me stay here? And what do you mean your room?” he asked. I could see how that was confusing. We were, after all, in a public building and it did look like a conference room to anyone else.

“Fine. Give me one hundred bucks,” I said holding out my hand. He scrunched up his face in confusion. “Right, you’re British. One hundred pesos? Is that right?” I asked. He laughed.

“Pesos are Mexico. I think you mean pounds, love,” he said. I cocked up one eyebrow. “Fine. One hundred?” he asked pulling paper out of his pocket.

I took a step back. “Whoa, you’re actually giving it to me?” I asked. He nodded and then sighed, pocketing the money.

“You ever heard of a band called One Direction?” he asked. I nodded, unwilling to tell just how often I heard about One Direction. Then I recognized the face and I felt my jaw drop and he smiled. “Yeah, I’m in it.”

Before I could so much as speak, screaming was coming from the hall behind me. There was a huge crowd of girls heading for the door. I shut the door behind me, blocking out the fans. “Well then I guess I’m stuck with you, Harry Styles,” I mumbled. There was a great deal of pounding on the door and he smirked at me.

“What’s your name?”

“Katrina Martin. Come here,” I said grabbing his wrist. I pulled him past the conference room and into a door on the left. I guided him into the small room that had a couch, a television, a mini fridge, and a desk. “Make yourself comfortable. It doesn’t sound like they’re leaving any time soon.”

He sat down on the couch and I pulled two sodas out of the mini fridge and tossed them to him. He took it gratefully and took a deep sip. “So what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see my manager. I’m late, the boys are already up there.”

“With Sal Martin?” I asked. His eyes widened.

“Yeah? You know him?”

“Harry, let’s think of this logically, shall we?” I asked sarcastically. “My name is Katrina Martin. You manager’s name is Sal Martin.”

“You’re his wife!” he shouted pointing at me. I shot him a disgusted look.

“I’m sixteen, freak. I’m his daughter,” I said. His cheeks burned slightly.