Royal Mess || Harry Styles a.u.

•een

Harry.

I'm late.

Of course I'm late on the first day!

"Please hurry up!" I practically beg the taxi driver.

"Yes of course, Sir. I'll just deploy my extensions and climb over these cars." He growls sarcastically. I really don't have time to sit in traffic now.

I sit bouncing my leg nervously. Maybe running will get me there faster? I look out the window and see that the building is about a block away. Please be worth it.

I hand the driver a wad of cash and sprint out of the car. I've always despised running, so the trip from the taxi to the building is quite difficult, but I make it. I rush through the doors and head straight towards the elevator. On my way up I check that I have all the music I need for today. The doors open and I rush down the hall. I stop in front of the door and look at the Premier Dancers sign. This is it. My dream come tr-

The door swings open, causing me to stumble backwards. All my scores scatter over the floor. Before I can catch a glimpse of the culprit, she's already running down the passage. I can tell she's one of the dancers, because she's dressed in ballet tights and a black leotard with ripped sleeves.

"Mr Styles! Would you care to join us maybe?" I snap my head to the door. Madame Moreau is glaring at me.

"Y-yes. Sorry I'm late, there was traffic." I hastily pick up my papers and rush over to the piano.

"I do not care about the traffic. Then you should have left your home earlier. No excuses are acceptable. Be late again and you're out." She says sternly, eyeing me. I hear the class laugh quietly causing me to blush.

"Yes Madame, I understand. This won't happen again." I avoid eye contact and place my pages in order on top of the piano. My shaky hands making it difficult.

"Alright, let's begin." Madame announces. I watch as all the dancers move to the barres. There seems to be about twenty girls and five guys. They all look so intimidating. I better stay low and not embarrass myself again.

Madame motions for me to begin and I start the intro. She starts explaining what to do using all these french words. I'm seated facing the room, so I notice when the girl who ran into me earlier sneaks through the door and walks over to the front position at the barre. She doesn't even flinch at the look she receives from Madame. The blonde immediately falls into pace with them, flowing perfectly to the music.

I've practiced and memorized my pieces, so I continue to inspect the class. Everyone is built about the same: tall, skinny and muscular. My eyes focus on the girl again. I admit that I'm glad I didn't confront her when she ran into me. I would have been all flustered and nervous. Heck, I'm nervous around everyone, but it's worse when the person is a pretty blonde ballerina.

Her eyes connect with mine and she smirks when she realises that I was staring at her. I feel my cheeks heat up and I snap my head down. Thankfully I haven't missed a note.

For the rest of the class I avoid eye contact with anyone. It's difficult, because the girl keeps staring at me, smirking.

"Alright five minute water break, then it's lift time!" Madame announces and smiles. "While you're all hydrating, I'd like to introduce our new pianist." She motions her hand for me to come over. Please no. I really hate standing in front of a crowd. Playing is different, because the piano is between the audience and me.

I reluctantly stand up and walk over to her. I keep my head down to hide my red cheeks.

"This is mister Harry Styles." Everyone claps. "As you may have noticed, he is amazing. He will hopefully be with us for a while." She smiles at me and I nod my head, nervously smiling at her compliment.

"Thank you, Madame Moreau." I quietly thank her and rush back to my seat.

I jump when I notice the blonde sitting on my spot. She grins at me and I grimace back.

"Hey mister Styles. I was just inspecting your scores." She says.

"Like you would know anything about that." I mutter under my breath.

"Excuse you?" She scoffs, abruptly standing up.

"I-uh.. You weren't suppose to hear that. I'm sorry." I cringe. She takes a step closer to me, backing me up against the piano. Her bright green eyes stare up into mine. I feel her body heat against me. She smirks again.

"You better be sorry, pretty boy." And just like that she walks away, to the floor.

I am left in shock, still leaning against the piano. I really hate having conversations, in general really. I always say things without thinking and I stutter and mess everything up. Why can't I just be a confident guy who flirts with girls and sweet talks his way out of trouble? I sigh and take my seat.

The next hour passes excruciatingly slowly. I don't know how these dancers do it. I've been sitting down and I'm out of breath. I crack my fingers and start to pack up. Madame reminds everyone about tomorrow's class and leaves. Most of the dancers stay behind to stretch some more. They are really dedicated, I'll give them that. It's the same with me and piano. There's no such thing as too much practice.

I grab my bag and head for the door. Blondie is right next to the door, doing the splits against the wall. How even? I try to avoid her, but she grabs the front of my shirt in her fist. I stop in my tracks and take a deep breath.

"Please let me go?" I ask timidly. She lets out a taunting laugh and grips tighter.

"Please let me go, who?" She raises her eyebrow. She keeps her eyes on mine. I can feel my cheeks getting hot. I was really not expecting to be bullied at my new job, but apparently every class has a blonde bitch.

"I don't even know your name!" I argue. "You want me to guess?"

"You can call me Di." She winks and lets go of my shirt, bringing her leg down from behind her. I keep eye contact with her before coughing and practically sprinting out the door.

On my way home I decide that I need to grow a pair. I need to stop letting girls half my size embarrass me. I honestly thought everyone grows up after high school. Apparently not. Now that I think about it, she doesn't even look 18. That's impossible, I thought all the Premiers are adults.

I reach my complex and head up the stairs to my flat. It's not even 2pm yet, so I decide to spend some time practicing pieces for the rest if the week's classes. This is a very respected job in the industry and I'm not going to throw it away. I make a mental note to call Gran later to tell her how it went. I know she's been worried all day.

I change out of my dress pants and blazer, into sweatpants and a white tee.

I walk over to my music room and take a seat at my grand piano. I start playing and instantly forget about all the stress of today. Playing piano is my calm in the storm of life.

While playing, I silently pray that tomorrow goes better.

=====

Hii :-)

uhm so I hope that was okay? By the way, if you didn't catch on, her name is pronounced 'die'.

This is just the beginning, I have lots planned *maniacally laughs*

Love youuu ♡

L .x