2. Perfection's Child

It's been thirteen years since Harry and Maisey have welcomed their first daughter to the world: Hazel Lillianne Styles. Her life starts out rough when Maisey experiences complications in labor, but takes a turn for the best when a big-time modeling agent sees her photo on Twitter.
Suddenly, she becomes the "It-Girl" for the younger generation-- at only thirteen years old. Harry firmly pushes away the spotlight on her beautiful daughter, but Maisey encourages it. Will it cause tensions in their marriage?
Society is rocked by the sudden upbringing of this unique child and all they want is to see Hazel continue on to become something big (like her father). Can she handle the spotlight? Or will life become suddenly ordinary for this little girl and her family...? For Perfection's Child.
***Sequel to Close to Nothing***
(Ages 13+ recommended) [A One Direction Fanfiction]

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3. It's Not Me

The past week has been absolutely mental. Dad has been getting bombarded by Twitter questions of: "Post a photo of Hazel!" or "We want more Hazel!" It's kind of interesting to be wanted, but Mum reminds me to be modest. 

"They're just a little excited, that's all," she tried to explain to infuriated Dad. He has been angry for the past week at the photographer that posted that photo of me on Twitter, resulting in all of this chaos. In addition, Tommy has finally had something to make fun of me for: "Ooh, Hazel's so beautiful" or "We love Hazel..." 

Mum just tells me that he's flirting. I honestly don't mind it, but in all reality, I have no way to flirt back. 

"They've asked for an interview," Dad said grimly, storming down the stairs. "From Hazel." His jaw clenched as he looked at me. 

"Babe, it couldn't be that bad..." Mum grasped his waist.

"This is exactly what we wanted to avoid," his eyes grew reddened. I hated seeing Dad like this. He would simply go mad trying to protect his family-- eyes like an overly-protective lion. "We can't avoid them any longer!" His raspy voice cracked a little.

"Who asked?" Mum took a paper from his hand, scanning over the print. "Covergirl?!" She widened her eyes at the paper, then looking at me. 

Dad frowned, nodding, "You're growing up too fast." He wrapped me in a hug, crying softly. I'd only seen Dad cry a couple times, but they were for good reasons, like if him and Mum were in a fight. 

"I'll always be your little girl, Dad," I smiled up at him, then buried my face in his chest. "No matter what."

"I'm just afraid that all this attention will affect you," he said solemnly, green eyes glimmering with tears.

"How so?"

"For example, criticism," he swallowed. "From the press or non-fans... It really gets to you,"

"Dad..." 

"I'm serious, Hazel. I don't want you to change," his usually joyful eyes were filled with sorrow. 

"I promise I won't," 

"Harry, maybe just one interview," Mum offered, wrapping an arm around him. "If we give them a little bit of what they want, maybe they'll back off somewhat."

"I guess that's true," Dad pressed his lips to Mum's. They didn't stop for about a minute, so I finally had enough.

"Dad," I stomped my foot. He jumped, slowly drawing away from Mum. I envied how madly in love hey were. They had gotten married the year after I was born, and have hardly had any disagreements since, though it was rather annoying how they'd get lost in eachothers' eyes. 

"Right," he chuckled. "I guess one interview wouldn't hurt."

"Even if something does happen," Mum began, putting her arms around Dad and I. "We'll get through it together. The three of us."

*

*

*

"Right this way, Miss Styles," a kind woman guided me down the hall of Covergirl HQ. She gestured me into a secluded but modern room at the end of the hallway. In it, a square, cream leather couch and an arm-chair seated next to it. A simple coffee table held beverages and snacks. In front of everything was a spotlight-- for video enhancing, I presumed. "The interviewer will be in here shortly. Help yourself."

"Thank you," I smiled, sitting gingerly on the firm couch. I felt really out of place, especially since they forced everyone else to stay behind until the interview was through. I popped a cracker into my mouth, followed by a swig of tea. I was especially hunger, due to the fact I had been so nervous earlier this morning. 

Suddenly, the door opened, and in the frame stood a well-tanned woman with flawless blonde curls that passed her shoulders, a tall, slim frame and voluminous eyelashes that shaded her ice-blue orbs. She was dressed in a well-fitted dress that went to mid-thigh. A model, I figured. She stood on six-inch heels, walking effortlessly to the armchair and taking a seat.

"Hello, Hazel," she gave me a bright smile, shaking my hand firmly. "I'm Meredith, I'll be interviewing you today."

"Nice to meet you," I said quietly, horrified at what she'd ask me.

"Don't be scared, darling," she comforted me, signaling the camera crew that had just arrived behind her. The camera machines were hugely complicated, chords running every-which-way. I didn't know from which lens to look at. "So, Hazel. What is it like being the teenage daughter of singing sensation Harry Styles?"

"Er, I think I take it for granted," I admitted. "It's a luxury most days, but hectic at times."

"I bet," she nodding with a half-smile. "Do you have any of the talent from your Dad?"

"Well, we used to sing together when I was younger," I recalled the times Dad would set me on his lap while Uncle Niall strummed his guitar, singing love songs to Mum. We hadn't done it for a while, though I missed it. "He used to tell me that I sounded like a high-pitched version of him." I gushed, my face growing a little red from what I could tell on the monitor.

"Why don't we hear any of it, anymore?" she begged, eyes wide. "We'd love to hear you sing, Hazel!"

"Nah," I shrugged. "I've probably lost it, anyways."

"You never know," she pointed out. "Next question from @bradfordbabe69: Hazel, are you single?"

I felt my face turn hot, so I looked down at my hands to avoid the severe redness that was soon to come to my face, "Er, yes." I nodded with pursed lips. I had almost immediately though of Tommy, but scolded myself silently for even letting his image come to mind.

"Okay, next question from Anonymous: What's the most important quality to you?"

"Probably just staying myself; not letting people change who I am naturally," I said, rather smartly. "I mean, there's only one of me. So I might as well make a good image."

"Good answer," she nodded, winking. "Lastly, a questions from myself: How would you feel about being a representative for Covergirl?"

Shocked, I looked up from my folded hands, meeting her icy eyes, "What?" I asked stupidly, regretting it as soon as it slipped my lips. 

"You know, like being the teenage face of Covergirl," she repeated, a grin creeping to her mouth.

"Oh, um, er..." I had no idea what to say. Dad said that he wanted me out of the press, Mum said only one interview...How could I say no, though?! "It sounds great, but..."

"But?" she knitted her brow.

"My dad, he er... Would prefer to keep me out of the media," I said reluctantly, frowning. My gaze, again, dropped. "Though it seems to be loads of fun."

"It's hard work, but definitely worth it," she smiled. "Maybe we'll have to talk to Harry about it, first?"

I nodded, pursing my lips, "I'm guessing."

"Well, thank you," she shook my hand again. "Miss Hazel Styles!" She signaled the crew who turned off the cameras and spotlights. I realized how much I had been sweating and secretly hoped it didn't show up on camera. 

I excited the room as quick as possible, slipping through the door-frame like some sort of cat. I had to ask Dad. If I had said yes, he'd have killed me! As I hurried down the hall, a familiar voice caught me from behind-- it's tone gave me shivers of nostalgia.

"Hazel, you've grown," 

I turned to face my dad's ex-girlfriend. Taylor Swift.

"Taylor, what are you doing here?" I said, almost rudely. She'd given Dad loads of hate after he broke up with her, so I never was quite fond of her. 

"Well, I'm the representative for Covergirl," she beamed, wrapping me a in a bone-crushing hug. "Last time I saw you, you were in the womb!"

"Wow," I replied, blankly-- doing my best to be friendly, but it was near impossible. "Nice seeing you--"

"Taylor," Dad's voice rang out from behind us. Taylor whirled around, almost face-to-face with a pretty angry Harry Styles. "Stay away from her."

He grasped my arm, pulling me along with him.

What the heck just happened?

 

(A/N:  Sorry that this is such a short chapter, but I have many more surprises in store for this story! Keep reading, loves.(; <3)

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