The beginning (h.s)

Chapter 2

I groggily wake up and brush my teeth.

After taking a shower and getting ready I go on my laptop and research this Harry dude.

Well he is part of a band. He looks pretty cocky to be honest. I accidentally click on images and see pictures of him standing in the rain just so some of his fans can meet him.

Aww.

I think Harry is growing on me.

He is pretty attractive, I'm not going to like.

The door bell rings and I look at the clock, it's only 9:30 am. Who could it possibly be?

I sigh as I walk to the door.

I open the door and feel a feeling I can't quite describe after seeing the curly haired boy at the door.

What is he doing here?

"Hey um you left your stuff at the club." Harry says running his hands through silky brown hair.

"Thank you." I awkwardly say as I take my belongings from his hands.

He stands there for a few moments before saying anything.

Harry looks back.

"Oh crap." He murmurs.

He runs into my apartment and locks the door.

What the fuck?

" Sorry, there is some paparazzi outside."

I nod.

"Would you like something to drink or anything?" I ask.

He shakes his head and I take a seat next to him and his eyes wonder to my laptop sitting on my dining table.

He bursts out laughing.

What?

I look over and realize I left it on and he could see that I had searched his name up.

I run up to the device and turn it off. Turning red.

"I was.. I didn't know.." I murmered, getting cut off by him.

"It's ok, you don't need to explain. Some fans have done- well you don't want know what they have done." Harry said giggling with tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. I sit back down next to him, still in shock over what just happened.

I'm so silly.

"So so you think the paparazzi have left yet?" I asked being a as polite as possible.

"They probably aren't going to leave until the sun starts to set at night." He says looking around my blank apartment which Probably looks like a cardboard box compared to his flat in London. Anyways what is he doing in LA?

"So is this your apartment or-"

"Yeah. Sorry if it isn't huge and nicely furnished. Not everyone can afford to live in a mansion." I rudely interject.

Harry frowns, "I worked in a bakery before I starting performing and before that I cleaned shit off the ground in horse stables so you sure are one to talk. And I wasn't trying to imply anything I was just asking."

Oh.

"Sorry. I didn't know. I thought you were just a rich kid who thinks there better than everyone else." I laugh, but I soon regretted my choice of words because I saw the sadness in Harrys eyes.

"It's ok, so anyways what do you do for a living?" He asked, and from his tone I could tell he was just curious.

"Well I am a small time model.'' I said leaving out the part about my passion for singing. I'm probably nothing compared to his band.

"Well you are very pretty."

What?

"So do you have any food."

I nearly chocked on my spit when he asked this, bring back some Terrible memories.

This is why I don't invite people over.

"Not really." I shrug.

Harry's next sentence, was more like word vomit,"Howdoyounothavefoodwhatdoyoueat?"

"I usually eat out."

"Oh." He said with relief flooding through his eyes.

This is going to be a long day.