Spotlight |h.s|

Twenty Five

Harry Styles

Aubrey comes into my room in her robe with her makeup on, apologizing to my hair and makeup girl and shaking her hand to introduce herself before coming to me.

"Hi. I have a favor to ask you." She crosses her arms as she stands next to my chair.

I notice her hickeys are all gone, her makeup artist doing a good job at hiding them. Her hair has waves in it now and she has on some colored lipstick and shimmery eye makeup.

"And what would that be?"

"My makeup artist's boyfriend loves us, so I invited him here. He's in my room now, and he really wants to meet you and take a picture. I think he likes you more than me." She explains with a light laugh.

"So he has taste." I raise my brows.

"You're so funny, Harry. Such a comedian." She shakes her head at me.

"You took a picture with him in your robe?" I laugh a little.

"This thing covers me more than half of the clothes I wear, so yes," she shrugs, "Stay in yours to keep the theme going." She gestures to my black version of her white one.

"Okay, okay," I give, standing and getting ready to follow her out.

Aubrey turns to my hair and makeup girl, Kelly, "I'll bring him back."

"Okay, that's fine." She waves kindly to us as we walk out.

I'm a little bummed that I couldn't flirt with her like I normally would, having to keep up the boyfriend thing and all. That's normally my favorite part of these shoots. I just sat on my phone and ignored her for the majority of the time, not wanting to risk a slip up.

I also didn't want her to think I was interested in hearing her life story like some makeup artists tend to. I don't give a shit about who they are, and they never seem to grasp that. There's no reason to fill the silence with unnecessary chatter.

Once we make it out and walk next door, Aubrey grabs onto the doorknob, pausing for a moment. She stands there holding it in thought, not opening it yet.

"You're gonna be nice to him, right?" She looks up at me.

"Why would I be mean?"

"Because you're you." She says like I'm stupid.

"When have you ever seen me be mean to a fan?" I squint.

"I guess never. I just had to be sure because I like these guys," she says, "And you being mean would fuck up their opinion on me, too. Not just you."

Before I can respond, she opens the door and I see two black haired men standing in the room. One is shorter with glasses, the other taller with a phone in his hands to record a reaction and take pictures, I'm guessing.

I walk forward, Aubrey stopping and shutting the door, watching from behind me. She's so smiley about this. She gets like that whenever she meets a fan. She loves making other people happy.

I stand in front of him, giving him a small wave as he stares at me in awe, seeming at a loss for words. I stay quiet for a minute, giving him some time to gather himself.

"Oh my god, I love you." He skips introducing himself, hugging me abruptly and making me chuckle.

Yes, I let fans hug me. Fan hugs also don't count in my book. They're in the same category as acting hugs.

I hug him back, letting go after a few seconds and smiling down at him without showing my teeth.

"I'm Miles." He introduces himself with a shaky voice, realizing he forgot to do that earlier.