Salute » Harry Styles

Chapter 14

∞ Chapter 14 ∞

"I am still going to say this again and I will keep saying it for the rest of my life; that was fucking amazing!" Gemma exclaims, giving me another high five for the hundredth time today.

I roll my eyes at her. "Gemma, you have been saying that since yesterday!"

It was just yesterday when the March to the City started. It hasn't aired on the news yet and I am definitely hoping the Curly Haired Bitch watches for sure.

After the March, more bitches came in the City and shoved the women into trucks before driving off to the SI. Lily and Demi went back to their homes. Gemma dropped Eleanor, Leigh-Anne and Jesy off to the places they're staying at before driving back here.

"I mean, can you blame me? You and the other girls looked sick up there!" she exclaims.

I chuckle slightly. "We were pretty great, weren't we?"

"So modest," she says sarcastically and we both laugh.

Anne walks into the room, smiling weakly at us. The dark circles underneath her eyes are noticeable and I can't help but pity her. She doesn't deserve to go through this, nor does Gemma. They are both one of the sweetest and genuine people I know. Then again, I don't know many people...

"What would you girls like for breakfast?" Anne asks.

"Don't worry, mum. We'll make something. You don't have to strain yourself," Gemma says and Anne smiles appreciatively at her.

"Thanks darling," she says and joins us in the living room. The telly is on, the channel now on the news.

"I thought you hate the news, Gemma. You usually watch some other show," Anne comments.

"Well everyone's saying that there is this big thing that went on yesterday in Center City and its being aired this morning," she says, glancing slightly in my direction.

"Oh well then let's see what the fuss is about," Anne says, chuckling slightly.

I give her sympathetic eyes which she doesn't seem to notice. I mean, who would want to live a life where their son betrays not only you but also the whole world, the women race. And then there's the 'husband' who is absolutely mental and abused your children when they were young. Anne deserves more credit than she receives.

Before I can open my mouth, not only am I surprised but also Anne and Gemma are shocked to see the Curly Haired Bitch standing by the doorframe of the living room. Black sweatpants hang low on his hips while a simple white shirt is on his upper body. His stupid, fucking curly hair is disheveled, the hairs standing in every direction.

"Harry... I-I thought you would be at the Building like usual," Anne says, giving him an odd look.

"No one is in the Building this morning. I called this morning off for everyone because Bill said there's something major happening on the news," he mumbles, pushing past all of us as he sits on the very far end of the couch, staring at the telly.

"It's on," Anne says. Gemma increases the volume, listening to the news reporters' words.

"Why didn't you tell Anne that we were the ones behind the March?" I whisper quietly to Gemma.

"I don't want her worrying anymore. She all ready has a lot on her plate," Gemma whispers back and I nod, paying my attention back to the telly.

"In the evening yesterday, something truly... odd took place in Center City," a man says at a large black desk with another presenter beside him. "All of the women from the Salute Institution had been released but there were no officers on duty. The officers were found drunk, vomit everywhere because of the massive hangovers they received at dawn. But, here's Tom Wilde from yesterday at Center City."

The camera shifts over to another news reporter from yesterday's scene –which was probably taped earlier.

"I am here today with other pedestrians who were on their daily duties when they saw the little performance the entire women from the local London Salute Institution put on. Four unidentified women were pulled out from the crowd with masks as they covered their faces, chanting speeches that gave the rest of the women empowerment. Locals are worrying that because of this, will women finally find the courage to stand up for their selves? Will they ruin what was perfectly built by Master Harry Styles for the past years? Here is the footage from the women yesterday," the news reporter says.

The camera shifts again to the recorded performance by Eleanor, Jesy, Leigh-Anne and I.

Gemma squeezes my hand as we watch the performance.

But I don't watch the telly; I just watch the Curly Haired Bitch's reaction. His jaw is clenched, his fingers tapping repeatedly against his knobby knees. I watch as his brows narrow down in both anger and confusion. His teeth pop out, chewing nervously on his lower lip.

"There you have it, folks," the other presenter says as the camera shifts yet again after the performance was played. "The women who were in the Center City are now being punished; all of them back in the London Salute Institution, where they belong. But just because the women here are locked away, doesn't mean that peace is set everywhere else in the world."

I look at the telly in confusion.

"Turn the sound up," the Curly Haired Bitch demands of Gemma. She obliges, increasing the volume yet again.

"Reporters have said that in Australia, Canada, America, Europe and other places, the Salute Institutions have been chaotic. The women have been screaming, demanding to be let out, to be set free. In some places like Canada, the women have gone for violent measures, beating the officers. Even beating some to death. But the one question is on everyone's mind: What are you going to do about all of this Master Harry Styles? This is Shawn Jacob, reporting to you," the presenter says before the channel switches to the next piece of news.

"Fucking hell..." the Curly Haired Bitch mutters.

"Did you girls know about this?" Anne asks as a blank expression sets on her face.

"No, we didn't mum. This is news to us too," Gemma lies. It is for Anne's sake that she is lying.

"Oh okay..." she mumbles.

"Cindy and the Crew will be here shortly," the Curly Haired Bitch mutters, walking away from this room.

"What? Why the hell are they coming?" Gemma asks, shooting right up.

"They have to get her ready. We're going somewhere," he responds.

I get up, glaring right at him. "I am not your little dog that follows you everywhere. I am not going to any fucking place, especially if you're there."

He walks back into the room, standing inches away from my face. He smirks evilly at me. "I do not give a shit, princess. You will listen to me and you have no fucking say what so ever. After all, you are my girlfriend."

And like that, he walks out of the room.

"I-I'm so sorry, Jade. I wish I could do something but..." Anne murmurs, standing up as well.

I sigh. "Anne, this isn't your fault. Don't blame yourself."

"Well, look on the bright side, you get to get all dolled up!" Gemma says, trying her best to lighten the mood –which I thank her dearly for.

I shrug. "Who is 'Cindy and the Crew?'?"

Gemma rolls her eyes at the mention of them. "A bunch of stylists that only come once in a while. I have no idea where he's bringing you, but it must be special if he wants them here just for you."

As if on cue, the doorbell rings. Gemma groans, standing up and answering the door.

Waiting there is a bunch of both men and women, their hair styled perfectly and makeup caked on their faces. They look so... fake and creepy.

"We are here for Jade Thirlwall?" a brunette says in a high-pitched voice. I wince at the frequency of her voice.

This is going to be hell for me...