Labels || H.S. [#Wattys2020]

TEN

Reagan woke up feeling at peace, her body and mind already knew that it was her day off. There was no frantic need to throw on clothes and run out of the house, there was nothing menacingly looming over her head. Those first few moments where she woke up and realized it was Saturday and she actually had a day off, she felt more at peace than she had in months. The birds chirped outside her window, and she stretched satisfyingly in her comfortable bed. She just felt so good, there was even a smile upon her face, that is until she checked her phone.

(4) Messages from Harry Styles

"What?" she said out loud. Her heart quickly started beating and she felt the room closing in around her. She didn't want to be that girl, the one that got dragged into all of that celebrity gossip and drama. This was not her life. She was supposed to be invisible, she was supposed to be under the radar, that was her thing. She just knew that this was not right, that this was not her fucking phone, that this was not her. She was still asleep, she was stuck in a dream that could be the plot of one of those horridly cliched fan fictions that Kennedy read day and night. She just had to be, she could find no other logical explanation for what she found before her, but her phone went off again and she knew she wasn't dreaming, this was very much real and very much her life.

"Fuck." She muttered as she went through her messages.

9:09 AM: Good Morning Rae!

9:15 AM: You're still not up?

9:17 AM: Wake up Rae!

9:18 AM: Come on Rae get a move on then!

She reread every message and still reread them again. She just couldn't understand what Harry Styles could possibly want with her. Yeah, she was his campaign manager, but that didn't really mean anything. There was no pretense for them to be hanging out outside of work, none at all. So why was he so fucking insistent? Could it be that he liked her?

She physically shook her head, roughly, hoping it would knock that nonsensical thought right out of her brain. How could he like her? She was a fat, weird, nobody. She was lucky if somebody even acknowledged her existence, she was practically invisible. Then again, it was better than being seen and being laughed at. She was nothing like Harry, he was and always would be out of reach for her. She couldn't ever imagine him lowering himself to her level.

After a few minutes of debating what to respond, she figured that the most professional response would be a simple 'good morning' and went on her way to take a shower. When she got back into her room she chose a simple floral dress and a jean jacket. She looked at the tags and flinched a bit as she saw a bolded '16' on her dress and a thoroughly outlined '2X' on her jacket. She ripped the tags off and got dressed.' They were new clothes, they should have made her felt better, not worse. But, again, Reagan was no ordinary girl. As much of a confidence boost as the beautiful dress might have been, she would always remember the white tag with the pronounced size.

She ran a hand through her hair and thought about not dying it for a while, that maybe the peroxide she used to make herself blonde was making her lose her mind because there was no way anything would ever happen between her and Harry. He was famous, the fucking talk of the town. Voted one of the hottest men on the Earth, always kind to everyone, and even though sometimes he was a little weird, everyone could forgive him because he was Harry fucking Styles. She looked at herself head-on in the mirror, her brow furrowed and a scowl prominent upon her glossy lips. Her hand darted for a hairbrush, but the jacket she was wearing didn't really give, her arm stiff and inflexible. She sighed in frustration as she tried to stretch out the jacket a bit, to no avail.

"Fuck it then," She said angrily.

Her phone rang at that precise moment and she jumped. She swore again and picked up the phone angrily, about to say something but Harry beat her to it.