Chapter Four: If I Could Fly Part 2
*The Night of March 23rd*
*Harry Styles POV*
My guards quickly escort me out of my car and into the Le Muerice Hotel. Screams from hundreds of people, yelling and ranting from hostile paparazzi; they both still ring in my ears... I start to turn around to at least meet some of my fans. They obviously have been waiting outside for hours, or even days, judging by some of the tents and packaged food. But Paul (Who is almost like a father to me, been with me since the One Direction days) gives me the evil eye and stops me. This happens all the time. They stop me from "Overexerting myself". That's the most dim thing I've ever heard. Last time he gave me a good 'ol bollocking, that I need to take care of myself. I always reply with '"I really don't give a sh*t, mate. I chose this life the second I stepped on that X."' At this he just snorts. I know I can't convince him I'm right, but I'm certain I am. Singing is what I want to do with my life, and this is what comes with it. I try to make them understand that even if it might not make sense to us, to someone this could be their entire world. I could be their entire world, which is entirely weird to think about. I still feel like...just....me, Harold.
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Dancing Into His Arms (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)
FanfictionHe literally starts stroking his freaking chin, peering at me from under his dark sunglasses; attempting to look like that sexy bad-boy in the movies, I assume. But... I mean... what the heck, man? Just an hour ago you were skipping around on stage...
