Empire // h.s. au

Bullshit Charities

Harry Styles 

Charity galas were the worst and best part of my job. They were the worst when I knew the charity was absolute bullshit and just to make a rich person richer. But the best part when it actually helped someone. 

I may be a dick, but I'm not a completely heartless dick. I genuinely did want to help people, especially because of how wealthy I was. I had too much money and not enough do with it. Which is why I gave over a million dollars a year to charity. It was important to give back to those who didn't have a lot. 

But, not tonight. This charity was absolute bullshit. I knew it was just so John Pope, the charity chairman, could be a billionaire instead of a millionaire. 

Yet, I still needed to go, show my face, and make it known that I wasn't a recluse like everyone seemed to think. 

Apparently, preferring to stay at home and work was 'unhealthy.' At least, that's what my housekeeper, Marilyn, said. She was the one who had forced me to come tonight. 

She had been going on and on about how I needed to meet people my age, and not continue to only hang out with 40 year old men, Louis, and Alexandria. I guess Louis and Alexandria were my age, but I also worked with them. So, it was different than just 'normal' friends. 

But what really defined normal? 

Because normal really didn't seem to define me anymore. 

"Ready, Mr. Styles?" Bruno said, turning around. I looked out the tinted window to see crowds of paparazzi and the richest of the rich getting their pictures taken. 

It was now or never. 

"See you at midnight, Bruno," I answered, opening the door. The second I stepped out, my name was being called from a million different directions. 

"Harry, over here!" 

"Harry, is it true you have fifteen homes?"

That was completely untrue. Who the hell owns fifteen homes? I sure didn't. 

I blocked out the rest of their words. When I first got 'famous' per say, some of the gossip and words were bothersome. I didn't like to hear all of these things going around about me that simply weren't true. It, in the oddest way, almost hurt my feelings. I'm not a sensitive guy. At all. But untruthful things, that people thought were true, was difficult to hear. 

As I walked in, I kept my head down and avoided being photographed. It was the oddest thing to wake up and see your face on the newspaper. So, I avoided it at all costs. 

"Harry Styles!" a familiar voice called me, so I actually looked up. I saw Louis Tomlinson standing next to his new intern, Samantha. 

Here's the thing about Samantha. She was a rude, stuck-up, know-it-all. but she was also a bloody hot rude, stuck-up, know-it-all. 

She was wearing a dress that Louis had obviously gotten her and her hair was clearly done by herself. But she still looked stunning. Probably the most beautiful woman in the room.

Not that I'd ever admit that. 

"Louis!" I grinned, shaking his hand and hugging him. "How you doing, mate?" 

"Just fabulous, you remember Samantha, correct? Eleanor couldn't attend tonight," Louis explained, gesturing to Samantha. Her eyes hardened when she looked at me, but she kept her all around face calm and good-natured. 

"Hello Sally," I smirked, knowing full-well she'd respond with her usual sassy response. 

"Hello, Mr. Smith," she grinned, her face looking falsely innocent. I rolled my eyes, but was slightly amused. Sure, she pissed me off. God, did she piss me off. But this name game we were playing was getting sort of fun. I loved hearing the names she kept coming up with. It was a bit of an amusement for me. 

"Ah Louis, your employees really need to learn a little thing called respect," I said, a smirk still president. 

"I'll work on it," Louis said dryly, rolling his eyes. He said he liked Samantha and that she worked hard. Apparently her resume and interview had been outstanding. 

"How's work going?" I asked, avoiding the conversation. 

"Great, Fashion Week is coming up, you'll be attending, yeah?" Louis asked me, crossing his arms. 

"I'm going to grab a drink, " Samantha said. "You boys want anything?" 

"Whisky," I answered.

"I'll have the same," Louis said. Samantha sauntered away, her hips shaking and her shoulder's moving. I slightly smiled to myself as she walked away, but hid it from Louis. I'd never admit this to anyone, but she impressed me. Never before have I seen someone actually stand up to me. 

But she did. 

"Back to your question, yes I will be attending. I mean, I'm sort of obligated, eh? I'm expecting front row, mate," I smirked, clapping him on the back. He chuckled.

"Front and center," he said, shaking his head, then he winked. "I'll make sure to seat you right next to Cara." 

"Fuck you," I said, a slight chuckle erupting from my lips. Cara and I had a slight fling, that ended as badly as it began. Then there was the whole fact that she was now a lesbian. Definitely not an ego booster. But, eh, she was a fun time while it lasted. 

Louis just laughed and looked up at the stage. We were at your typical hotel ballroom. Which wasn't exactly my ideal place. Plenty of people filling an overly expensive place.

John Pope approached us, his wide, fake smile on his face, and his eyes glazed from the excessive amount of alcohol he has already consumed. 

"Harry, my boy," John boomed. He considered himself a 'father figure' to me, when in reality I loathed the guy. He was too loud and too selfish for me. I disliked him. But he made my life a lot easier if I was nice. So I dealt with our monthly lunches and his stupid galas. 

"Hey John," I said, putting my hand out. We shook hands and I introduced Louis. Then the awful small talk began. You know, the 'catching up' stuff and the business talk. Actually, I liked the business talk. But not with John. 

"So, I hear you're pulling the Johnson investment," I mentally rolled my eyes. John had a habit of poking his nose in places where it did not belong. "Sure that's a good idea, bud?" 

"It is, I wouldn't do it if I thought it would be bad for my company," I said, trying to sound as good heart-ed as possible, while in reality I was ready to punch the guy.

"Hello boys, and Mr. Pope," Samantha said, handing us each a drink. Her smile was radiant as she stared at us. 

For the first time I have ever seen Samantha, I was thankful for her presence. 

 A/N: Sorry for the lack of update! Once I finish Replay (my other story) I'll be concentrating more on this! Expect slow updates until then!