Back for You

Emma is 20 years old and working as an intern at a English newspaper. She thinks her dream job is to be a journalist, but really she just like writing about the celebrities.
One day she get's to interview the british-irish boy-band One Direction, but it doesn't go to well due to her natural clumsyness and bad luck. On one of her worst days ever, a beam of sunshine lays on her, and she gets to meet the boys one-on-one. Can the clumsy, not-so-attractive, celebrity-obsessed girl finally get her chance with the cool guys?

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6. Chapter 6

Emma's POV.

Realizing that all of Niall's kind gestures, all had been for the sake of me and Harry getting together, made me realize, that over the short amount of time I had known Niall, I had kind of developed a small crush on him. I was the type who didn't fall often, but once I did, I fell quick and hard. It wasn't a huge crush, but my heart still sunk to my stomach as Harry spoke the words. They're trying to set us up. They echoed in my head, as I walked back to my apartment.
All this time, it had all been about Harry. It was clear, by the expression on Niall's face, when he saw me and Harry together, that Harry had been right. And I had been all wrong. Not even once had Niall looked at me and though, "whoa, she looks pretty cute, I want her for myself." I was a treasure, for his friend, that he finally found, and I really meant nothing to him, but his friends happiness. 
I know, I'm being dramatic, but as I said. I can't help it. Even if its just a little crush, it hits me hard, every time, and it often knocks me to the floor. Where I stay for quite sometime; that being the reason, why I never had many boyfriends. It just wasn't worth it. 
I returned of my flat, placing myself in front of the tv. They were showing re-runs of Friends. Like it was never a re-run. Luckily, that was one of the only shows I could stand watching over and over again. I kind of soothed me as I began of feel like my old self again. Not the girl who was so ordinary that One Direction just had to be friends with her. Not the girl who had a minor crush on famous singer Niall Horan, and certainly not the girl who had to pretend to like Harry.
When Harry told me his theory, it all made sense. Why a guy like Niall would even look at me in the first place. Even though it hurt me for a moment, I quickly saw an easy way to earn some credit at work. I mean, if that was the only thing I was getting out of this... whatever this is, I might as well take advantage of it. Not only would I be getting the exclusive of all stories about them, but I would also get to know them better personally, making my articles way more personal. It was a win-win. Maybe I could even get to know Niall better.
Now all I had to do was stick it out with snobby-Harry over there for a few months. Hopefully less.

I went to work Monday morning to tell my boss about my accomplishments. She seemed thrilled at first but then she looked drop dead serious again.
"What did you do?" She asked. She sounded like a mom, trying to get her kid to confess right after he broke a lamp. 
"What do you mean?" I said trying to sound innocent. Of course I didn't tell her about Harry or the deal we made, only the part where I got all the interviews.
"Oh you know exactly what I mean," she said sounding angry but teasingly, "nobody, especially not an intern, gets the exclusive on a boyband like One Direction! ... Did you seduce them?" She asked getting a crooked look on her face. Was she looking dirty at me?
"NO!" I yelled grinning, just as I was gonna tell her about the deal. But should I really tell her, that what was soon gonna seem like a relationship to the rest of the world, really only was a scheme, so Harry could get a time out? Could I really trust her with information like that? I mean, she is after all a reporter - a good one - who will do a lot to get a good story. If she knew, wouldn't she just reveal it?
I bit my lip trying to come up with an explanation. I couldn't tell her I was gonna date him. That seemed weird. She would think I was a gold digger. 
And then it hit me. So would the rest of the public. (That hit me too by the way. That the public was gonna find out. Not just the four other boys in the apartment). If I was writing all the stories about One Direction, everybody would probably think I was only with him just to get those stories. Which was completely true. But they didn't have to know that. How was I gonna solve that?
"Then how did you do it?" She said raising one of her eyebrows. I almost turned around without a word, before I remembered that it would be impolite. 
"I'm gonna explain, but I'm gonna have to go figure out how to explain first," I said, "I'm sorry, I'll be back soon!" I yelled as I ran out of the room. 
"Don't go crazy on me Wilson!" My boss yelled after me, half sitting half standing by her desk, as I looked back at her.
She better be able to help me... Or I would be in biiiiiiig trouble. 

"So I asked why he didn't wanna watch the movie, and he was like, "just because" and then I totally freaked out! I hate when people say that," she explained to me. I was just sitting there waiting for her to be done. 
"Okay, Steph, that's really interesting, but that's not why I'm here," I said trying to sound polite, but I was too focused on just getting my question answered. I hated hanging out with my sister. She always had a hard time not talking about herself.
"Then why are you here? You only always come to sit and listen to me talk, and then you leave," she said looking at me confused. She was kind of right, I realized. Whenever I came - to be polite - I never said anything, hoping my sister and mom would get done with their talking faster, so I could leave sooner. I just didn't realize that I had gotten so predictable. 
"Because I want you to help me with something," I confessed. She looked amused, by the thought of me asking her for help.
"Are you coming crawling back?" She teased her eyes sparkling with amusement. She was enjoying this. 
I sighed. "I guess I kind of am," I said not looking at her anymore. She laughed.
"Okay, spill out," she said, and I was glad to learn that my sister had matured since I last talked to her. Which reminded me, that it had been a long time since I'd been here the last time.
"Okay, so I for myself tangled into this ... Kind of big mess," I said, mumbling the last few words out as fast as I could, hoping she wouldn't here it. Which was kind of stupid, because now I had to repeat them. 
"I heard you," she, luckily, stated. I forgot that my sister had super-ears.
I nodded trying to hide my relief. 
"What kind of mess?" She asked getting back to the point.
"I got this really good deal where I get the exclusive on a band, but I'm gonna me spending a lot of time with them, and I don't want everybody to think I'm only hanging out with them because I get the stories," I explained leaving out all the details. I didn't know who my sister was currently obsessing over, but I didn't wanna take any risks. 
"First of all, you're leaving something out. Important details, I can't tell by the way you wrinkle your nose, " she said. She didn't look like a blond teenage girl anymore, but more like a criminal inspector. Like a young, female, pretty Barnaby. Her eyes were focused and not flinching. I touched my nose. Did I really wrinkle it?
I hesitated. She knew me all to well. She could tell just by looking at me. I've always hated that.
"True," I said and bit my lip. How was I gonna say this?
"Spit up!" She demanded. And so I did. I told her about the press conference, the private interview, the dinner afterwards, the lunch-interview Saturday; where I was the one being interviewed, and then the weird event at their house Saturday.
"Wait. The One Direction?" She almost whispered.
"Yes," I whispered mimicking her voice. She looked at me with an annoyed look before a smile spread on her face. And then her loud scream filled the room. I covered my ears with my hands. I should've seen that coming. 
"OH. MY. GOD!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE FRIENDS WITH ONE DIRECTION AND ARE BEING SET UP WITH HARRY STYLES," she screamed at the top of her lungs. I giggled. Why didn't I react like that?
"So what seems to be the problem? You're gonna date Harry Styles! Do you like him?" She said calming down, moving closer to me. Was she gonna hug me? I shivered. 
I hadn't told her about my crush on Niall and that I really didn't like Harry. I hadn't really gotten to that part yet, but I guess I had to tell her, in order to tell her what my problem is. At least about not liking Harry. 
"Well, you see..." I said not knowing how to get the words to leave my tongue. 
"Wait, I don't see a problem with all of this, this is amazing! A dream life? What are you complaining about this time?" She asked frowning, and putting her hands at her hips, while she tipped her head. Was that how she saw me? I didn't complain all the time. 
"Will you stop?" I said pulling the stop. "It's a legit problem."
"Then tell me," she dared. 
"Okay, you see," I said hesitating. I couldn't figure out if it was necessary to tell her about Niall. It wasn't important. 
"I don't really like Harry, but I figured we both could get something out of the situation, so we decided to make a deal," I explained. "I get the exclusive on all upcoming announcements, and then he could get the boys of his back. I'm pretty sure they want him to get something out of a relationship with me, or else they could've just chosen one of his eager fans to date him, so I figured if we just were together for a couple of months, and then broke it off, the boys would leave him alone."
"Seems like you thought it through," she said looking impressed. "So what do you need me for?"
I looked at her smiling. 
"Because there was one thing I forgot about. If the press finds out about our relationship - which I know they will - and they see that I write all the articles, people will either think that I'm using him or that I'm a gold digger... So how do I make sure I can still keep writing articles and "date" Harry?" I asked. She didn't looked questionable for one second. Even before I was done talking it seemed like she had already figured it out. 
"Easy," she said, "Hannah Montana," she said looking like that wasn't a weird thing to say at all. 
"What?!" I said squinting my eyes. I was a few years too old for Hannah Montana, or so I thought, when it came out, so even when Stephanie was watching it, I never did. Only occasionally did I sneak a glance of the tv. I only had the slightest idea of what it was about.
"You get the best of both worlds," she sang as if it was obvious, "a cover up," she continued, looking like it was the most natural thing in the world. 
"You mean write under another name?" I asked, trying to think the plan through. It could work. Tell my boss that I needed to write under another name, or else I couldn't write at all. She would probably agree to that. 
"Yes," she said nodding while she started looking at her computer in front of her.
"Thank you," I said distant, getting up to leave the room.
"I suggest something pretty like Stephanie," she yelled after me, but before I could respond with a clever comeback, I was out the door and on my way to the office.

"Rosie Dunne," I said. 
"And tell me why again?" My boss said squinting at me. 
"Because, in order to get all the exclusive stories, they wanted me to write under another name," I explained, "security stuff, you know," I lied.
"I've never heard of that before," she said leaning back in her chair, like she gave up on a puzzle she couldn't solve, "but then again, I've never heard of anybody - especially not an intern - getting exclusive on all announcements." She frowned. "But I guess you're special," she continued leaning back on her desk.
"Sooo...?" I said carefully.
"Fine! Do it," she said throwing her hands in the air. 
"Thank you so much, Maria," I said almost jumping. Even though it wouldn't be my name getting all the credit, I would still be doing it, and then maybe sometime in the future, I could reveal that I was the one behind everything. 
"This better be good," she said as she waved me out of her office made out of glass.
"I promise," I said, not sure if I could actually keep that promise, but what else could I say?

That night Harry called me - I have no idea how he got my number - saying that the boys had been asking about me, and that we probably should see each other tonight, or tomorrow. I was sitting in my pajamas, celebrating my brilliant plan with a bowl of ice cream. I told him tonight would be fine. I putted my phone on speaker, as I got dressed, so I could tell him about the missing piece of the puzzle, and that I'd already solved it. Of course he hadn't even thought of it.
"Ready," I told him taking one last look in the mirror.
"Great, I'll come get you," he said. 
"No, I'll walk, it's really not that far," I said shaking my head as I got my keys. 
"I have to get you, the guys think I'm being impolite," he said on the phone. That made sense.
"No, they'll understand..." I said, but he cut me off, as I walked outside, locking my door behind me.
"I'm already here," he said as I turned around, and right there in front of me, a car had pulled up right in front of my flat.
"That's fast," I said hanging up the phone, as I started to walk towards the car.
"I have my moments," he said smirking at me. He was sitting in the driver seat with one hand on the steering wheel, while the other was untangling his curly hair. He was wearing a black leather jacket, and he actually looked kind of good in the dim light of the car. No. No, no, no, no. I jerked myself out of my starring and walked over to open the door. 
"Surprisingly enough," I said as I took a seat in the car. 
"Funny," he said nodding his head in my direction.
"Me? Oh I wasn't being funny," I said trying to sound serious, but I was really bad at stuff like this. I could never keep a straight face, no matter how hard I tried.
He grinned, but the rest of the - short - drive to their flat was quiet. 
"Wait," I said right before he got out of the car. "What are we gonna do when we get in there? Are we gonna go to your room or just sit in the living room? It would be easiest in your room, just because we wouldn't have to act all the time," I was mumbling and he cut me off, no wonder.
"Let's just go in there," he said getting out of the car.
"No wait!" I whispered getting out of the car too. I had to run to catch up with him.
"I can't go in there without a plan," I said panicking.
"You'll survive," he just said before he opened the door to their flat. What a jerk.
We said hello to all the guys again, and they all seemed really, over the top, fake nice, but luckily Harry just told the boys that we were going to his room. 

The stairs were grand, and it looked very elegant as we moved to the second floor. Harry looked bored and annoyed as he opened the door to his room. It was one of the last in the hall way, but it was quite big. I didn't imagine the rooms being this big. How big was this house? He threw the car keys on the dresser as he walked over to his bed, threw himself on to it, turning on the tv. I was just standing there with out moving. The door was closed behind me and I was alone in the room with a boy, who despised me, and that I didn't really like. Yay. 

Harry's POV.

She kept standing there for a while, and I was starting to get the feeling, that that was just something she had to go through every time she was alone with me. Whether it was starring at me for ten minutes, or standing and staring at me for 10 minutes. I guess I have to give her credit cause it only took her five minutes this time before she moved from the small hallway in my room.
"So..." She mumbled as she made her way to the couch in the corner of the room. 
"What?" I said flipping through the channels. I was so not ready to deal with all of this tonight.
"What do you usually do when you bring a girl to your room?" She asked. She didn't look dirty at me or anything, more like mocking or just simply interested.
"Not anything I'm planning on doing with you," I shot back. Her face turned red as she giggled, but not like she was embarrassed, again I was surprised by her reaction. She seemed superior to all my mean comments, like no matter what I said, she pretended to know better, or pretended that she didn't care. 
"I can imagine that," she said trying to choke her giggling, "speaking of that..." She got up and walked to the bed. Then she threw herself onto the bed, laying parallel with me - the exact same way as me, except she was laying right in front of the TV.
"What? Can't I watch TV now?!" I said frustrated. I tried to look at the TV over her head, but she keeps blocking my view. Finally I looked at her and now she was giving me the dirty look. 
"What are you doing?" I asked quietly. I was in shock. I had never imagine her looking at me like that. She didn't seem like that type of girl. 
"Getting you're attention," she said giggling obviously at my facial expression. "I can see it worked!" She said, straight up laughing now. 
I did not find that amusing.
"Talk," I just said turning off the tv. 
"Oh, okay," she said clearly surprised by my anger. I didn't even feel sorry, I was in a bad mood to begin with and now I had to hang out all night with her. 
"Um, I was thinking, we probably need to get to know each other... Just if anybody asks," she said sounding uncomfortable as ever. 
"You're probably right," I said, sighing, while I sat up. She also got up to sit as me, and then we just sat there looking at each other. I forced a smile to get the conversation going.
She giggled.
"So what's up with you?" She asked, "why are you so grumpy all the time?"
She asked as if wasn't such a big deal, like I was just acting like a spoiled kid, but as soon as the words left her lips I felt my heart tighten. Like when you get a cramp in the leg, and you feel like your muscle gets tied into a knot. I felt my lips closing into a line and I fell into a stare. I had been avoiding that question for weeks, and so far the boys hadn't really tried to make me answer it, nobody had. 
"Just miss my family," I said, dodging the questions, hoping she would let it pass like everybody else. They all thought that if they gave it time, I would probably tell them eventually - I've heard them talk about it - but I just didn't fell like talking about. Didn't feel like ripping up the, maybe not so, healing wound and relive all those painful memories. 
She squinted at me, looking directly at my lips. 
"Okay," she just said and laid down in my bed, with her head on the pillow and her body only on one site of the bed. 
"Okay," I mumbled, laying down exactly like her, surprised that she bought it. 

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