Soundtrack Of My Summer

Harry Styles. You know him, you love him.
Guess what?
He's not who you think. The fame has gotten to Harry Styles. So of course he needs to keep a good boy image, right? Exactly.
After a mix up at an office he and the boys are shipped off to Georgia for the summer. Sadly, Mr. Styles takes a job he swore he wouldn't ever do again.
So what happens when he begins to fall for a Georgia Peach with a few little secrets..
She changes everything for Harry. He realizes what he needs, wants, and loves.
Friends are made, secrets are uncovered, painful memories remembered, and passion strikes the air.
Harry only has one summer to forgive, forget, and fall for someone.

But he might have to wish it all goodbye.


1. Un-Perfection

I strutted quickly through the blood red painted halls framed with black and white photographs of New York City. I hated this place more than anything, but Paul said an image consultant would help me. Apparently our heads were wrapped up in fame and that needed to change.
The clicking noise of my iPhone sounded as I refreshed my mentions, smiling at a few comments. So many sweet things from people that loved me, perfect until ruined by one thing.

A hate message.I'll never understand why making people feel bad about themselves made others feel better. It just didn't make sense.

 I sighed at the cruel words and slipped the device back into my Chinos. The walk from the lobby wasn't long, as Amanda's office was on the same floor. I arrived at the glass door that had Amanda Kindes, Image Consultant engraved in a cool white cursive. 

"Ah, hello Harry." Amanda greeted, not looking up from the mess of papers on her desk. "Erm.. Hi Amanda." I replied awkwardly. I sat carefully on the red and gold chair which was the same color as the narrow hallway. Finally she glanced up to me and folded her bony hands together. A fake smile sat upon her drawn on lips. Amanda couldn't be younger than fifty six, so there was no interest there.


She looked fine for her age. Frosted blonde bob, watery blue eyes, thin as a twig, basically how you'd expect a woman of her status and many years to look. "So Harry, I'll be honest.. I was a bit, no, very surprised about your choice for community help." Amanda admitted, pushing her thick framed glasses up her nose. A thin leopard strap attached to the glasses was revealed through her thick hair. Yes, the community help. She'd thought that doing a community service would help my interaction with non celebrities. I had chosen the easiest for my busy schedule, supporting a charity. How hard could it be? All I had to do was show up at a few meetings, make a speech or too, and donate some money.

"I'd have thought quite a few people would have chosen that actually." I replied. She chuckled softly and said," Well okay." It was confusing, I had honestly thought that a lot of people would have chosen that. "So Harry, here's the packet of information." She slid a Manila folder across to me. I opened it and spilled the contents onto the desk. One folded slip of paper had an address to a town in Georgia and another read Checklist For Recording Studio. " What's this have to do with a charity?" Amanda raised a perfectly tweezed eyebrow. "Charity? You signed up to be a voice coach to a group of unpolished singers."

A voice coach? "Amanda that can't be right!" I croaked. "Harry you checked off clearly voice coach. Which surprised me after your twenty minute explanation of why you would never help anyone sing." She laughed darkly. Had I really chosen voice coach? I had sworn to never help anyone sing...well after last winter. Why would I? I knew how it'd end. I'd fall in love and she'd leave, enough said. "Well let me redo my form. I'm not coaching." I demanded bluntly. "I'm afraid that can't be done. You see, we send in the forms to a top notch base of secrecy. Getting it back would take up to four weeks." Amanda sighed. "As you know, Mr. Styles, you have to start in two weeks. So you will be leaving for Macon, Georgia in four days." I groaned and leaned back in the stiff chair. "What will I be doing?" "Coaching about five or six artists over the summer." She replied, getting bored with repeating this. "Okay." I said blankly. I shifted in my seat and stared expressionlessly at the older woman. I gathered the information pack and slipped my raincoat on.

"Where are you going?" Amanda questioned.

I ignored her question and jammed my earphones in, turning on shuffle. "I won't be coming back. You can contact Paul if you want to get anything through to me." I explained, sounding like a robot. But that's okay, right? That's what everyone wanted me to be, a perfect robot. An exact replica of the next good pop star. 'Hey, media, guess what? I don't want to be like everyone else!" I thought dryly. I turned up the music and jogged down the perfectly red hall. Of course I was aware of the presence behind me, it was Amanda. She was yelling things in my direction, trying to get me to stay. My jog turned to a sprint as I crossed the perfect beige carpeting in the lobby, through the perfect shining doors, and into my perfectly black Range Rover.

I stared at the big blotches of rain on my windshield, noticing even the small droplets seemed to be perfect and clear, falling in a straight pattern.

I took a sharp, jagged turn onto the highway, spilling a bit of diet Coke onto the white leather interior in the process."Oh well, I'll leave it." I breathed angrily.The sugary stain looked horrible and ugly against everything so neat. It was good though, finally something unperfect.

Like me.

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