They Say No

Corryn Crislette has wanted, more than anything in her life, to see the world. She wants to sail across the seven seas, and feel the breeze sweep her hair off her face. But with an over-protective stepmother and stepbrother, this is nearly impossible.

Harry Styles just wants a break. He wants to get away from the media, paparazzi, and attention. But how can he possibly do so when he is part of the biggest boy band in the world? His management order him to date another girl who he would never love, and will never approve of someone else in his life.

What do Corryn's stepmother and stepbrother, and Harry's management say?

They say no.

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3. Two.


I cry into my pillow, wondering why Lucile was so cruel to me. She does not understand my love for the outdoors, though I have never been out. I want to see the world, more than anything. Then, I will die happy.

Lucile and Jay have gone to sleep by now, but I am still awake. I am awake, wondering how I will see the outside. I will do anything. I do not care what Lucile says about the dangers, because I have spent too much of my life stuck in a stuffy house to care at all. I will go outside soon. Somehow.

I just don’t know how yet.

I chuckle lightly to myself, thinking of how stupid this seems, but how much I want this. I wonder what is out there, if there are girls my age who look like me, dress like me. I wonder what boys there are, and what the look like. Jay is not my brother, so it is not wrong when I say I find him good-looking. I wonder if every boy out there is good-looking like Jay.

I get out of bed, smiling as the moonlight shines into my bedroom and look at my calendar. Two more days until my nineteenth birthday. Maybe then, Lucile will let me leave the house. I honestly do not understand why she will not let me leave. There are only grass and trees for an entire mile from the house. I doubt a single soul knows we live here. I heard Lucile once saying that this house was private property, so that must be why we are so isolated. I hate being isolated.

I have come to realize that I hate a lot of things, but maybe that would change if I could get a new perspective on life. Not that it will be happening soon, or for another two days at least. I cross of one box on my calendar, marking the end of another long day. One day closer.

I set the pen down a switch on my desk lamp, climbing back into bed with a book in hand. It is Romeo and Juliet, written by Shakespeare. Jay recommended that I read it, and so far, it is intoxicating. I ready quietly, enjoying the story of the two forbidden lovers, until there is a soft knock on my door.

“Come in.” I say gently, knowing it is Jay. He always has a quiet knock.

Jay steps inside, clad in his long pajama pants and a nice white t-shirt. He sees me and smiles, coming closer to me.

“Hi,” he says, then glances at the book in my hand and grins. “Are you enjoying that?”

“I am,” I giggle lightly, admiring how his blue eyes shine brightly from the desk light.

“I came to talk to you of today’s supper.” He tells me, setting his hand on my arm. I suddenly feel uncomfortable, because Jay has never talked to me about these things before.

“Go on.” I say cautiously, watching his blue eyes intensely. He bites his lip, preparing to speak. “I understand how much you want to go outside,” he says, “and I know it bugs you a lot. So,” he pauses, an uneasy yet cunning smile on his lips. “I’m going to help you.”

I am shocked at his words.

I want to ask him if he is joking, if he is just playing with me. But I am speechless.

“On your birthday,” he continues, “I’ll convince mum to let me take you to town. But you’re going to have to stay with me. Okay?”

“Okay.” I nod, though I want to jump and scream with joy. Finally. Finally I will see the world.
Finally.

“Now go to sleep,” Jay laughs, taking my book and setting in on the desk. “You read too much.”

He kisses my forehead and winks at me before leaving my room, as if he had not been there in the first place.

I wait until I no longer hear Jay’s footsteps, then pick up my book again.
 



Lucile wakes me up roughly, shaking my shoulder hard and good. I groan and turn over, the see her blue eyes staring into mine.

“You were to be down for breakfast two hours ago!” she yells, making me wince. My ears are sensitive as I have just woken up.

“I’m sorry.” I say, looking away. I see Lucile look down at something on the other side of the bed, and followed her gaze. She has seen my book.

Lucile hates books. She loathes the sight of them, and burns them when she can. I never read when she is home, because I have a risk of getting caught. The only way I get books is from Jay, who I must beg to get books from. He gives me the books he has finished reading for his school, and I have each book he has given me, hidden in a secret place.

But now, Lucile has found the book.

I go to grab it, but she beats me to it, ripping the book out of my grasp and throwing it to the ground.

“Please,” I whisper weakly, my eyes on the book. “Please don’t.”

I don’t know why she hates books. They are such beautiful things.

“You know better than to be reading behind my back!” she yells, slapping my cheek once. I am frozen. She has never slapped me before, and now I am terrified.

“But it is my book.” I argue, wincing when she raises her hand, and slaps me again.

“It is not your book.” She hisses, and her eyes widen with realization. “It’s not your book.”She repeats herself, turning to me. “Who gave you this book?”

I don’t answer.

“Who gave you this book?” she repeats louder, picking it up.

“J-Jay.”

Her fists clench and she lets out a scream, throwing the book at my door.

“You will never,” she starts pointing her finger at me, “never ever, read again.”

She picks up Romeo and Juliet, and leaves my room.

I would never get to finish now.


As lunch passes, I can barely eat with Jay glaring at me. I feel terrible for blaming him. But he was the only way I could have gotten a book in the first place. I knew no one else besides him and Lucile. We eat lunch in silence, and Jay leaves abruptly, dropping his plate into the sink loudly.

I notice the red patch on his face. Lucile must have slapped him as well.

It is only Lucile and I at the table now, and I feel her gaze on me. I have never felt so uncomfortable in my life.

I suddenly have a new fear of her.



Harry’s P.O.V.

“Just a minute!” I respond to the doorbell that has just rung. I grab my keys and unlock that door, groaning just a bit when I see Emma standing at the door. She has more makeup on the usual, almost like crayon. I chuckle at the thought.

“Hey, babe.” She coos, stepping inside my house. I see cameras clicking from outside. She holds one foot at the door, stopping me from closing it, then smashes her lips against mine, for all the paparazzi to see. I will kill management before I die.

“Hi, Emma.”

Emma drags me into my own house, kicking the door closed with one foot. She pins me against the wall and attacks my lips with hers. I swear, it’s all she ever does. I don’t know why I ever agreed to this. Dating Emma for publicity was stupid. But I couldn't quit now. I didn't want to be seen as an even bigger player than people already thought I was.

I flip us over so Emma’s back is against the wall instead of mine. Emma grabs my hair and rakes her fingers through my scalp. I must admit it pains a bit. Just as her fingers reach the top buttons of my shirt, I pull away, and see her dark brown eyes glittering with lust.

I just want a break from this.

“Why did we stop?” she pouts, trying to pull me in again.

“This is for publicity,” I hiss, “remember?”

Emma rolls her eyes and manages to peck my lips once more before I turn away completely. I watch as Emma walks to the couch, swinging her hips purposely. Though most guys would find her attractive, I don’t. She’s “dating” me for the same reason I am dating her.

Publicity.

She grabs my television remote and switches the television on, going through the channels. I just stare at her from behind, wishing I could truly love her. But I couldn’t. Because I didn’t choose her.

Management did.

Emma Jameson is a model for Calvin Klein. She signed a major contract with the modeling company and has loads of photo shoots. She is well known in the modeling industry and has ran her own fashion shows. She’s well gorgeous, but not my type. Any guy would love to get their hands on her.

But not me.

And so I stare at her, wondering what the hell I’m even doing, not breaking up with her. Not that Emma would care. She would just go find another guy to snog.

I sigh and go into to the kitchen, where I prop myself up on the counter top and grab a banana from the fruit basket nearby. I pray Emma will just leave me alone. I lean over a bit, so I get a view of the television. Emma is watching America’s Next Top Model.

Okay. She won’t bother me.

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