Beachwood [H. STYLES]

Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

"I hate you."

It's the morning after the emotional night I had endured. I don't remember much aside from the fact that I smoked a blunt and wrote some song about Noah. Although my body feels weak and face is puffy from the tears, nothing is worse than hearing Cameron yell at me right now. I had finally told her about my encounters with Harry, although not under the circumstances I would like.

About an hour ago, the blonde stormed into my apartment with her set of keys and abruptly woke me up. My face, alongside Harry's, was plastered all over the tabloids; TMZ, E! News – almost every medium that updated the public about the happenings in Hollywood. My initial reaction was panic, but I convinced myself that it was fine, that's it's the usual after effect of hanging out with a renowned artist. The pictures weren't bad, only snapshots of us leaving his car and entering the garden. Since, I've spent the past hour telling her everything, but she still isn't dropping the matter.

"I didn't feel the need to say anything! We see him every day at the café ... only this time it was voluntary." I quickly mumble the last part of my sentence, filled with guilt. I genuinely wanted to tell Cameron about my meetings with Harry recently, but I didn't feel the need to gush about something so meek, assuming that it was a one-time thing.

"Nope, I'm not having it. You know I'm right; you should've told me. I'm your best friend!" she tries to hold a serious look, but a smile almost creeps up her face. That's the thing about us; it's impossible to stay mad at each other. We hardly ever argue and even if we did, it would last five minutes before we start hugging each other again. Which is exactly what is happening now. The blonde grunts and runs up to me in my bed and pulls me into a hug. "I hate how I can't stay mad at you" she mumbles and gets under the covers with me. I only laugh and wink as a response.

"When are you going to see Harry next?" she asks, fidgeting with the duvet on her.

"I don't plan to. Not on my terms at least. I'm living life like usual, Cam ... he's just been wherever I've been the past few days and needed company for a bit" I smile. I'm not too bothered as of right now. It was fun, hanging out with Harry. I may have been a little prejudicial and assumed the worst of him at the beginning but based on our flow of conversation at the garden, I liked talking to him. I didn't wrap my head around it too much though, thinking it was a one-off.

"You don't just hang out with a guy and randomly not do it again" she begins, looking at me with a stern look.

"Uh, you do when he's well-known. He's got plenty of company. Look, what I'm more worried about right now are those tabloids saying I'm some homewrecker for breaking Harry and Carmen up ... Wait. Camille, I mean. We didn't even talk about her!" I begin to defend myself when I don't need to. A majority of those articles spoke about how Harry and Camille have been in a two-year relationship but those pictures of him and I might have been the confirmation that they are broken up – that I am the girl Harry 'left her for.' Fake news at its finest.

I know I wanted to make it in this city, but not like this. Luckily, they only had shadowed pictures of my face that weren't clear enough to make out that it's me. But Cam knows me too well.

"Don't worry about it, babes. Got to get used to this when you're famous!" she begins to laugh, trying to lighten up my mood and ask always, it does. Before I could reply, the speaks again.

"Speaking off ... has Harry been with Camille lately?" I pause at her question and think. Suddenly, a wave of guilt rushes over me. I know I shouldn't assume that they did break up, but I haven't seen Harry and Camille at Beachwood in a while. In all the two years he's been going there, he'd never been alone until the other day. Odd.